GF RA hy MIS 2 2h 5 Hy EY Ig a a A A ili 
E:ngland’s View, 1603; Whitney’s Em- 
viems, 1586; and Bartholomeus de Pro- 
prietatibus Rerum, 1535. ; 
As aspecimen of the Translation, we 
shall quote the description of the Trout: 
¢¢ The Trout loves rivers in obscure retreats ; 
‘Thrown into standing water, she forgets 
Her former beauty, and neglects her love, 
And all the flesh will then insipid prove 5 
From hence remember, with a timely care, 
For Trout a running water to prepare. 
Near some wide river’s mouth a place pro- 
vide, 
And with smooth grass and turf adorn the 
side 5 
Let the clear bottom shining gravel show, 
And gently murm’ring o’er smooth pebbles 
flow. 
This situation always grateful proves, 
For still the Trout a murm’ring current loves, 
And still the same desires her bosom warm, 
Nor has she chang’d her manner with her 
form : fy 
For once she liv’d a nymph of spotless fame 
¥n an obscure retreat, and Truta was her 
name. 
It chanc’d that in a flow’ry path she strayd, 
Where a clear river with the pebble play’d, 
And just disturb’d the silence of the shade. — 
Truta now seated near the spreading trees, 
Enjoys the coolness of the passing breeze ; 
In the clear stream she casts her modest eyes, 
And ina fillet her fair tresses lies. 
While in this solitude she thus remains, 
And dyes her beauteous face with various — 
stains 5 
It‘ chanc’d the robber Lucius, through the 
shade, 
With eager eyes, perceiv’d the lonely maid 5 
He saw and lov’d her riches, or her face, 
For both her dress and form appear’d with 
equal grace. 
The nymph now heard the rustling with af- 
fright, 
She saw a man, and trembled at the sight; 
Swiftly along the winding shore she fled, 
And cry’d, and vow’d, and call’d the gods to 
aid. 
Truta despairing sought, with trembling 
speed, 
A rock that overlook’d the watery mead 5 
Hither she bent her course. the summit gain’d, 
And thought her virtue now might be main- 
tain’d 
Cheaply with loss of life: while here she 
stood, 
And just prepar’d to leap into the flood 5 
Lucius approach’d, and while he held behind 
Her flow’ry vest that flutter’d in the wind, 
Chang’d into fish an equal fate they bore, 
And though transform ‘d in shape, yet as be- 
tore, 
. The Pike of slaughter fond, and fierce appears, 
And still the Trout retains her female tears ! 
Peauty and virgin mudesty remains 
Diversified with crimson-tinted stains 5 
And, once the fairest nymph that trod the 
plain, 
Swims fairest fish of all the finny train.” 
The new and splendid edition of * Pa 
lestine,” by Mr. Rectnarp Hezer (a 
poem which has been already introduced 
to the notice of our readers in asmaller 
form), 1s accompanied by a fragment 
not less poetical, entitled “ Ihe Passage 
of the Red Sea.” A few lines, by way 
of extract, will speak more for its merit, 
than a lengthened commentary. 
‘¢ Yet not from Israel fled the friendly light, | 
Or dark to them, or cheerless came the night. 
Still in their van, along that dreadful road, 
Blaz’d broad and fierce the brandish’d torch 
of God. 
Its meteor glare a tenfold lustre gave 
On the long mirror of the rosy wave : 
While its blest beams a sunlike heat supply, 
Warm every cheek and dance in every eye. | 
To them alone—tor, Mizraims wizard-traim 
Invoke for light their monster-gods in vain: 
Clouds heap’d on clouds their straggling sight’ 
confine, 
And tenfold darkness broods above their line, 
Yet on they fare by reckless vengeance led, 
And range unconscious through the ocean's 
bed; i 
Till midway now—that strange and fiery 
form 
Show'd his dread visage lightening through 
the storm ; 
With withering splendour blasted all their 
might, 
And brake their chariot-wheels, and marr'd 
their coursers’ flight. 
6* Fly, Misraim, fly !’’—-The ravenous floods 
they see, 
And fiercer than the floods, the Deity. 
<¢ Fly, Misraim, fly!”—From Edom’s coral 
strand, | 
Again the prophet stretch’d his dreadful wand. 
With one wild crash the thundering waters 
sweep— 
And all is waves—a dark and lonely deep. 
Yet o’er those lonely waves such murmun 
past, i 
As mortal wailing swell’d the nightly tlast 5 
And strange and sad the whispering surges 
bore 
The groans of Egypt to Arabia’s shore. 
Oh! welcome came the morn, where Israel 
stood, 
In trustless wonder, by th’ avenging flood ! 
Oh! welcome camethe cheerful morn, toshow 
, ' 
The drifted wreck ot Zoan’s pride below ; 
The mangled limbs of nen-the broken car—= 
A few sad relics of a nation’s war: 
Alas, how tew!—Vhen soft as Elim’s well, 
‘the precious tears of new born freedom fell. 
And he, whose harden’d heart alike had borne 
The house of bondage, and th’ oppressor’s scorn, 
The stubborn slave, hy Hope’s new beams 
subdu'd, ee 
In faultering accénts sobb’d his gratitude.” 
POLITICS 
