4454. 
THE BEACON. 
PPHE scéne was more beautiful fat to my 
eye, 
&, Than if day in its pride had array’d its 
‘The land-breeze blew mild,'and the agure 
arch’d sky 
Look’d pure as the Spirit that made it ¢ 
The murmur rose soft as I silently gazed 
On the shadowy wave’s playful motion, 
From the dim distant isie till the beacon fire 
blazed 
Like a star in the midst of the ocean. 
No longer the joy of the sailor-boy’s breast 
Was heard in his wildly-breath’d num- 
bers > , 
The sea-bitd had flown to her wave-girdled 
RES ES! 
_ The fisherman sunk to his slumbers : 
One moment I look’d from the hill’s gentle 
slope, 
(All hush’d was the billow’s commotion, ) 
And thought’ that the beacon look’d lovely as 
hope, 
That star of life’s tremulous oceam 
The time is long past and the scene is afar 
Yet, when'my head rests on its pillow, 
Will memory sometimes rekindle the star 
’ That blazed on the breast of the billow. 
In life’s closing hour, when the trembling 
soul flies, ; 
And death stills the heart’s last emotion 
O then may the seraph of mercy arise, 
Like a star on eternity’s ocean! 
P.M. 1, 
ee 
SONG. 
Wave thy fair head, thou early flow’r, 
And the fleeting sunshine borrow ; 
For the scornfal wind and the driving show’r _ 
Shall lay thee low to-morrow. 
Fond beauty, whose love-lighted eye 
The smile of joy is wearing, , 
Cherish the beam; for love shall die, 
And leave thy soul despairing. 
The blossom of spring’s untimely birth, 
To the lingering storm is given; 
And love is a flow’r may bud on earthy 
But only blows in heaven. 
P. M. I. 
Patents lately Enrolled. 
fMarch 1j. 
'” SONNET. 
TO A RAVEN, ON HEARING ONE IN A 
STORMY NIGHT. _- 
Wwerat noise is that? What hoarse and 
dismal cry aaa 
Starts me from sleep, and vibrates in my 
ear? 
What form ill-omen’d sounds those accents 
drear ? 
Again it croaks: again it hovers, nigh: 
Again it screams aloud: and, flitting by, 
Against my window beats. Ah! bird of 
fear, < Regen 
Say, to what'end these boding signs appears 
What mischicfs you presage, what pending 
destiny. 
Hail, hated, dark-wing’d minister of fate 5 
Whose frequent moans, borne on the 
hollow blast, Weta 
Scarce Reason’s self can calmly contemplate, 
And Superstition hears with looks. 
aghast: ' 
My mind congenial greets thy dreadful 
_ | lay, : ; 
Welcomes the awful gloom, nor pants for. 
day. IU, 
| Se 
SONNET. 
TO A REDEREAST. 
GWEET little songster hither, hither 
bend 
Your casual flight : your airy path I trace 3 
And, leaning at this ruin’d column’s base, 
With curious eye your varied motions tend,’ 
And to your plaintive notesa pleas’d attention 
lend. ; ‘ 
Ab, may no feather’d foe your life efface! ~ 
_ Een truant school-boys spare your favor’d 
| race, . 
And man receives and greets you as a 
fren ie 
When hail and snow a long white landscape 
form, 
Dauntless you seek his hospitable door, 
Find a warm refuge from the ruthless storm, 
And feed where pity fondly strews the 
floor. ) 
Oh! were frail man to man but half as 
kind, 
Yon houseless shiv’ring wretch had shunn’d 
this wintry wind. cin (a OP 
PATENTS LATELY ENROLLED. 
—_ 
UR, JOHN DUFF’s (GREAT PULTENEY 
STREET), for an Invention of Snuffers 
on a new and improved Consiruction, 
communicated to Mr. Duff’ by a 
_ Foreigner. : 
N the drawings attached to this speci- 
fication, we have a perspective view 
of the inside of the snufiers; which exhi- 
bits a scraper turning on pivots, one ina 
socket, and the otlier underneath and 
_ perpendicular to it. There is a spring 
which presses through an opening in the 
“scraper, to force it rapidly back against 
a valve or hanging door; which has aw 
prominent peg facing the, scraper, by 
which it is pushed as the door of the 
snuters closes, and raises the valve to let 
the snuff pass into the receiver? it shuts 
again by its own weight. 
being of the same size as the valve or 
7 hanging 
The scraper — 
