ISIl.] 
Original Poetry. 
■« J,,# 
followed Christmas. This is now ob¬ 
solete. 
SOIL OF ENGLAND. 
Aymery de Peyral, in his Manuscript 
Citronicle of the Popes, says, litat Pni^- 
land is reinaikabie for the ttumber (tf 
saints, whose bodies it had pieserved 
frotn corruption. lie observes, that 
tliere is no soil so adapted to preserve 
corpses from corruption, as the soil of 
this country. A valuable discovery! 
PRODOMUS. 
Theodore Prodomus was a Greek of 
the 12th century, and called the Kiiros, 
or Kurios, as the prince of philosophers, 
lie is really the prince of verbosity, 
When (he says) one has once lost one’s 
life, when one is covered with earth; 
when one has descended to the habita¬ 
tions of the'dead ; when one has crossed 
the lake Acheron; when one has drunk 
only one cup of ilie wafer of Lethe, or 
only one enp of that of Corytus, or Styx; 
one is not acrain permitted to see the 
liglit of day !” Gaulniin reproaches him 
pleasantly enough with having t’orgottea 
Fhlegelhon ! Tlie speech of a general 
to his soldiers fills nearly a whole book. 
A girl, separated from her lover by a. 
shipwreck, asks lilin in forty verses, 
whether lie was alive, and had not for¬ 
gotten her. In recommending mOrcy, 
(he says) “ The table of the gods is 
humanity; their drinking aipj a man 
released from death; their supper j our 
well-being; their dinner^ common re¬ 
joicing.—So much fora Qr^culus loquat 
et inepte mrbosus. 
ORIGINAL POETRY. 
TO THE CRITICS. 
Bv Dn. WoLcoT, 
the late publication of his admirable Satires on 
the Car let-on House Fete, 
J^NOTHER bark, I give the mighty deep ! 
O vi^inds and waves with courtly kind¬ 
ness treat her. 
For should ye burst in fury from your sleep, 
Your rage, I fear, would quickly overset her. 
V/eak is her frame.—‘‘Yes, yes,” (the critics 
cry,) 
“ And slight her masts, and rotten all her 
rigging ; 
When will this rhymer quit the public eye ? 
When will his Muse, the sow, give over pig- 
‘ ging ?” 
Ah, cruel Critics, since your lucubration 
Is doom’d for pastry cooks, or trunks to line; 
Leaves, which the Muses mark with execra¬ 
tion, 
Methinks I need not blush to publish mine^ 
But when to iron fields of war, 
Stern lionoiir calls the hero far ; 
That heart by holy faith inspir’d. 
And breath to heavenly accents fir’d ; 
By prayers to angels songs allied. 
Shall turn the fearful ba.ll aside ; 
And infant lips with kisses burn. 
To hail their gallant sire’s return. 
So while to lay the tyrant lov/, 
Britannia’s graceful warriors go, 
O ! may such shades, when fate decrees. 
Receive them back to homsfelt ease j 
And beauty long with purer flames, ^ 
Than ever warm’d Laconia’s dames. 
Repay their toils in native skies. 
And love like Harriet’s be the prize. 
Newcastle. 
TO AN AFFECTIONATE AND MUCH SE- 
LOyED MOURNING FRIEND, ON THE 
DEATH or HIS CHILD, WHOSE MOTHEX 
ALSO LIES DANGEROUSLY ILL, 
#N READING . MRS. CHENEY’S PATHETIC 
VERSES SUBJOINED TO PfER DRAWING 
OF COLONEL CHENEY’S COTTAGE.— 
In possession of Miss M. Roger son ^ of New¬ 
castle. 
By Dr. Trotter. ’ 
"pEHOLD this grove, the bower of taste, 
By beauty’s pencil finely traced ; 
While li^ht and shade their tints bestow. 
Ho w meek the blended colours glow ! 
For here the kindred Muse lias stray’d, 
To consecrate the hallow’d glade j 
And every bird that v^arbles there.^ 
Proclaims within some happy pair^ 
By the Rev. John Procter. * 
why, my friend, these melting tears. 
And why these weeping eyes. 
To view tlie babe you dearly lov’d. 
So early win the prize } 
Ke came to view our dark abode, 
This despicable earth, 
But lik’d it Hot j then soar’d aloft. 
And tried a second birth. 
O I envy not his blest estate,. 
His happiness compleat; 
Where streams of pleasurCi joy, and'bliss, 
For ever, ever meet. 
