"In Wrafton Lane, as the villager strays, May apply their own keys, to our prose and our rhyme, I believe I have now adverted to every particular that can interest the readers of The Cave, and the contributors who are to amuse them :-it only remains for me to whisper a word or two at parting to its future Editor, which, by the by, there is no harm in the public's over-hearing. You will observe then, MY DEAR ANONYMOUS, the true-blue and loft banner which I have set as a token your future proceedings, in the character of Editor to The CAVE Now, I do not suspect you will desert your colors, but if you ever should swerve from following that honorable example I have set you, if you should be induced, either by ignorance or malevolence, to hoist the black flag of piratical attack upon private character, and family history, which may subject you to a sound raking fore and aft, nail your colors to the mast, and do not reverse the order of the bold Buccaneer +, by a" down with the black flag, and up with the blue!" for, deeply interested as I am in the success of your Periodical, I would rather see you buried under the rocky ruins of The CAVE, than sculking, with a sham repentance, and an altered flag, into the obscurity of its sheltering and obscure recesses; but I have no fear of you, en avant-proceed and prosper! for that is the sincerest hope of your, and your Readers very obliged, and obedient servant, Dry-den BEAUCLERC. Beau Sejour, Bunny Ravine, Saunton, * That is, when it FIRES the feelings, or the brain. P. S. EXTENSIVE PUBLIC, 1 AM under the distressing necessity of dismissing my diffi dence, and addressing you in my own shadow. When I returned to the Marino last night from a tea-party at Braunton (which always gives me a greater relish for poor dear Beauclerc's broiled bone, and brown stout) I found a dry-den with a vengeance. Like Cataline in the conspiracy, abiit, evasit, erupit, which means in English, that he had jumped into his new patent pocket Skiff, and gone to Lundy to fetch the Review; and the kind hearted old Seal was crying her eyes out on the hearth rug lately occupied by the poetical Spaniel. I therefore, obliged to speak for myself, and to state what my dear friend forgot in the agitation of leave taking. 1. An eminent amateur has engaged to set the songs, &c., and we promise the ladies (if possibly it can be done) a new air to add to their graces. am, 2. We purpose engaging the arts of etching and of lithographic engraving, to elucidate local allusions, and scenery. 1 remain, your "veiled prophet," Or in some brief and sudden storm Such as with crash our dreams between, The parlour was our dungeon keep, + But vainly for a sunbeam look- III. Close then thou volume so much conn'd, O'er music's death awhile be mute, Ye balls, in white or scarlet vest, Of mace or cue the flying jest, Within your nettled hammocks rest! And ye of old renown! Peers, knights and pawns of Tourney Chess, No longer now the combat press, Encircling either crown! Soft sofa's lounge, and hearthstone chair To breathe of ocean's bracing air, By Saunton beach and down. IV. Our stall it boasts no lofty steed, And Thou, the muse's gallant grey, The Muse may sport Fitz-James's feat- The dashing horseman gallops through, V. For see how fairly on our right Roll past the pool of Appledore, VI. Now, but our course we may not bend, From RENTON-BY-THE-FORD: For there was drawn the sword of right, |