528 
While this air was sang, the emotions_ 
of the Prince were very visible; and when 
it was finished, unable to restrain them 
any longer, ina ne of enthusiastic 
remembrance, he rushed towards the sta- 
tue of the deceased Suworoff, and most 
ardently embracing it, exclaimed, “ To 
thee do I owe ail! pr 
This action drew bursts. of admirazion 
from the warriors that were present ; and 
the women wept tears of delight. to see 
such amiable sensibility i in so brave a bo- 
som. 
This Prince is as accomplished as he 
is valiant; and unites with a graceful 
person, a countenance -of the most he- 
roic cast, His complexion bears the 
marks of many climates, but his eyes are 
bright and piercing. His nose is aqui- 
line; and his mouth expresses all the 
sweetness and affability of his nature. 
His deportinent is modest, dignified, and 
engaging. Such a man is the Prince Ba- 
eration, the “ flower of Russian chi- 
valry,’ the admiration of. his enemies, 
Original Poeiry. 
‘ 
[July Ty 
and the friend of all good and great men» 
of every nation. 
After the fall of Dantzic, he saw the 
olive withering, which bound Russia to 
the English empire. It burst asunder, 
and the brand of war was lighted. His 
troops were again assembled, , but not to’ 
retread the plains of Italy, ‘nor to 
reascend the steeps of the Alps; he 
changed the march of his brave follow= 
ers, to meet a respected foe on the plains 
of Finland; and there, under Russian 
colours, contend with. the enemies of 
France, with the late friends of Rus- 
sia! Mysterious policy of courts, amaz- 
ing versatility of cabinets, whither will ye 
lead us!. The Prince Bagration, the con- 
queror of Britain’s foes, 1 is now in arms 
against her on the shores of Bothnia. 
When virtue so meets, then may hostility 
die; and there may peace again mingle 
the olive with his laurel; once more may 
it bind the united hands of the two great-: 
est empires in the world, England aud 
Russia ! 
ORIGINAL POETRY. 
A Pee 
LINES, 
OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF EEN- 
JAMIN GOLDSMID, ESQ. - 
By Mr. PRATT. 
Wy BAtTe ER has led thee to the fatal 
blow, 
Ah ! little boots it weeping friends te know ; 
The rich who lowd, the poor who bless’d thy 
worth, 
Whate’er the cause, shall. consecrate thy 
earth; 
‘The spot shall hallow, that receives thy 
dust, 
And many a pensive Virtue guard thy bust. 
Pity shall sigh o’er thy untimely bier, 
And Gratitude embalm thee with a tear ; 
Grief’s sacred progeny thy fate shall mourn, 
And orphans, widows, kneeling, clasp thy 
urn. 
Led on by Charity, this train shall bear, 
This angel train, the supplicating prayer 5 
To cherub Mercy shall that prayer be giv’n, 
Mercy, supreme among the host of Heav’n! 
She, juin’d by myriads in the blest abode, 
Shall breathe it on the bosom of thy God! © 
EE 
SO NUN EF... 
FOR FAVOURS THE WRITER HAS 
CEFVED AS “* A PQET.’ 
De Wor THY were the lyre that scorn’d 
to own 
The humble-seeming hymn of gratitude | 
(Or thrumm’d it careless) for the rich, un- 
sued, 
And glittering shower of generous bounty, 
blown 
RE- 
On its unletter’d minstrel. - Gently thrown, 
Each gift delighting fell; and oft re- 
view'd 
That pleasure hence shall be—tho’ Hope 
eludes 
His grasp, and Fortune wears a fous 
As when the Sun our ripening earth sur- 
veys, 
Till moisture shrinks from his relentless 
ZaZe, 
How kind those clouds which, passing, veil 
the scene! 
Just so Dependarnce keeps her eye severe» 
Fix’d on a heart that erst had virtues: 
there-—— ‘4 
But interposing now,. the Muse affords a 
screen! 
_ Bath, 1808. Louis. 
ants acer EG 
FRAGMENT. i 
I, LIKE the mother kind, shall grieve, 
Who, of her young despoil’d, all day, 
From rosy morn to dewy eve, 
Thro? woods and mountains, ‘takes her 
ways 
Till quite, o’ercome with fruitless pains 
_ Weary’c at length, she lays her downy 
Despairing, sad; and fills the plains 
_ All night with miserable moan. 
Tis thus when thou art gone, thy sire shall 
be, tie 
So shall he wish by day, so mourn by night _ 
for thee. 
THE 
