“Whose mind was an essence, compounded with art | When the world stood in hope-when a spirit, that From the finest and best of all other men's powers

breathed Who ruled, like a wizard, the world of the heart, The fresh air of the olden time, whisper'd about, And could call up its sunshine, or bring down its And the swords of all Italy half-way unsheathed, showers!

But waited one conquering cry to flash out! "Whose humour, as gay as the fire-fly's light, When around you, the shades of your mighty in fame, Play'd round every subject, and shone as it play'd

Filicajas and Petrarchs, seem'd bursting to view, Whose wit, in the coinbat, as gentle as bright, And their words and their warnings—like tongues of Ne'er carried a heart-stain away on its blade ;

bright flame

Over Freedom's apostles--fell kindling on you ! “Whose eloquence-brightning whatever it tried,

Whether reason or fancy, the gay or the grave Good God! that in such a proud moment of life, Was as rapid, as deep, and as brilliant a tide

Worth the history of ages--when, had you but As ever bore Freedom aloft on its wave !"

hurl'd

One bolt at your bloody invader, that strife Yes—such was the man, and so wretched his fate ;

Between freemen and tyrants had spread through And thus, sooner or later, shall all have to grieve,

the world Who waste their morn's dew in the beams of the Great,

That then-oh disgrace upon manhood! even then, And expect 't will return to refresh them at eve!

You should falter, should cling to your pitiful In the woods of the North there are insects that prey Cower down into beasts, when you might have stood

breath, On the brain of the elk till his very last sigh ;'

men, Oh, Genius! thy patrons, more cruel than they,

And prefer the slave's life of damnation to death! First feed on thy brains, and then leave thee to die!

It is strange—it is dreadful ;-shout, tyranny, shout,

Through your dungeons and palaces, “Freedom is LINES

o'er !"

If there lingers one spark of her light, tread it out, WRITTEN ON HEARING THAT THE AUSTRIANS HAD

And return to your empire of darkness once more. ENTERED NAPLES.

For, if such are the braggarts that claim to be free, Carbone Notati!

Come, Despot of Russia, thy feet let me kiss

Far nobler to live the brute bondman of thee, Ar--down to the dust with them, slaves as they are- Than to sully even chains by a struggle like this ! From this hour, let the blood in their dastardly Paris, 1821.

veins, That shrunk at the first touch of Liberty's war, Be suck'd out by tyrants, or stagnate in chains !

THE INSURRECTION OF THE PAPERS. On, on, like a cloud, through their beautiful vales,

A DREAM.
Ye locusts of tyranny, blasting them o'er-
Fill, fill up their wide sunny waters, ye sails

" It would be impossible for His Royal Highness to diser From each slave-mart of Europe, and poison their gage his person from the accumulating pile of papers that shore !

encompassed it.”- Lord CastleReagu's Speech upons

Colonel M'Mahon's Appointment.
Let their fate be a mock-word-let men of all lands
Laugh out, with a scorn that shall ring to the poles,

Last night I toss'd and turn'd in bed,
When each sword that the cowards let fall from their

But could not sleep-at length I said, hands

“I'll think of Viscount C-sti-R-Gy, Shall be forged into fetters to enter their souls !

And of his speeches-that's the way.”

And so it was, for instantly
And deep and more deep as the iron is driven,
Base slaves ! may the whet of their agony be,

I slept as sound as sound could be ;

And then I dream'd-oh, frightful dream! To think-as the damn'd haply think of that heaven

Fuseli has no such theme; They had once in their reach--that they might have been free!

never wrote or borrow'd

Any horror half so horrid ! Shame, shame, when there was not a bosom, whose heat

Methought the P-e, in whisker'd state, Ever rose o'er the ZERO of -'s heart,

Before me at his breakfast sate: That did not, like echo, your war-hymn repeat,

On one side lay unread petitions,
And send all its prayers with your liberty's start-

On't other, hints from five physicians--
Here tradesmen's bills, official papers,

Notes from my Lady, drams for vapours-
1 Naturalists have observed thi, upon dissecting an eik,
there were found in its hend some large flies, with its brain

There plans of saddles, tea and toast, almost eaten away by them.-History of Poland.

Death-warrants and the Morning Post.

When lo! the Papers, one and all,

A playful young bear, and then mock his disaster As if at some magician's call,

By bidding him chuse out his own dancing-master. Began to flutter of themselves From desk and table, floor and shelves, I thought the best way, as a dutiful son, And, cutting each some different capers, Was to do as old Royalty's self would have done. Advanced--oh jacobinic papers !

So I sent word to say I would keep the whole batch in, As though they said, “ Our sole design is The same chest of tools, without cleansing or patchTo suffocate his Royal Highness !"

ingThe leader of this vile sedition

For tools of this kind, like Martinus's sconce,' Was a huge Catholic Petition :

Would lose all their beauty if purified once; With grievances so full and heavy,

And think-only think-if our Father should find, It threaten'd worst of all the bevy.

Upon graciously coming again to his mind, Then Common-Hall Addresses came

That improvement had spoil'd any favourite adviserIn swaggering sheets, and took their aim That R-SE was grown honest, or W-STM-REL-ND Right at the R-G-nt's well-dress'd head,

wiserAf if determined to be read!

That R-D-R was, even by one twinkle, the brighterNext Tradesmen's Bills began to fly

Or L-V-R-P-L's speeches but half a pound lighterAnd tradesmen's bills, we know, mount high; What a shock to his old royal heart it would be! Nay, even Death-warrants thought they'd best No far were such dreams of improvement from me; Be lively too and join the rest.

And it pleased me to find at the house where, you

know, But oh !-the basest of defections !

There's such good mutton-cutlets and strong curacoa, His letter about “predilections”

That the Marchioness called me a duteous old boy, His own dear letter, void of grace,

And my Y-RM-TH's red whiskers grew redder for joy! Now flew up in its parent's face! Shock'd with this breach of filial duty,

You know, my dear Freddy, how oft, if I would, He just could murmur, “ Et tu Brute !" By the law of last Sessions, I might have done good. Then sunk, subdued, upon the floor,

I might have withheld these political noodles At Fox's bust, to rise no more!

From knocking their heads against hot Yankee

Doodles; I waked—and pray'd, with lifted hand,

I might have told Ireland I pitied her lot, “Oh! never may this dream prove true; Might have soothed her with hope—but you know I Though paper overwhelms the land,

did not.
Let not crush the Sovereign too!"

And my wish is, in truth, that the best of old fellows
Should not, on recovering, have cause to be jealous,

But find that, while he has been laid on the shelf, PARODY OF A CELEBRATED LETTER.

We've been all of us nearly as mad as himself.

You smile at my hopes, but the doctors and I At length, dearest FREDDY, the moment is nigh, Are the last that can think the K-NG ever will die! When, with P-RC-v-L's leave, I may throw my chains

A new era 's arrived—though you'd hardly believeitAnd, as time now is precious, the first thing I do And all things, of course, must be new to receive it. Is to sit down and write a wise letter to you. New villas, new fêtes (which even WAITHMAN at

tends) New saddles, new helmets, and-why not net

friends ?

by ;

*

*

*

I repeat it“ new friends"-for I cannot describe I meant before now to have sent you this letter, The delight I am in with this P-RC-V-L tribe. But Y-Rm—th and I thought perhaps 't would be Such capering—such vapouring !-such rigour-such better

vigour ! To wait till the Irish affairs were decided

North, South, East, and West, they have cut such a That is, till both houses had prosed and divided,

figure, With all due appearance of thought and digestion- That soon they will bring the whole world round our For though H-RTF-RD House had long settled the

ears, question,

And leave us no friends—but Old Nick and Algiers. I thought it but decent, between me and you, When I think of the glory they've beam'd on my That the two other houses should settle it too.

chains,

”T is enough quite to turn my illustrious brains; I need not remind you how cursedly bad

It 's true we are bankrupts in commerce and riches, Our affairs were all looking when Father went mad; But think how we furnish our Allies with breeches! A strait-waistcoat on him, and restrictions on me,A more limited monarchy could not well be. I was call'd upon then, in that moment of puzzle,

1 The antique shield of Martinus Scriblerus, which, upon

We've lost the warm hearts of the Irish, 't is granted, P. S.-A copy of this is to P-RC-V-L goingBut then we've got Java, an island much wanted, Good Lord! how St. Stephen's will ring with his To put the last lingering few who remain crowing! Of the Walcheren warriors out of their pain. Then, how WELLINGTON fights! and how squabbles his brother!

Who, I doubt not, will write (as there's no time to THROUGH M-NCH-ST-R Square took a canter just lose)

Met the old yellow chariot, and made a low bow.
This I did, of course, thinking 't was loyal and civil,
But got such a look-oh, 't was black as the devil'

Mem.-When next by the old yellow chariot I ride,We are willing to worship, but only entreat

He had never been troubled with Friends or a Wife-Some were chisell'd too fine, some had heads 'stead
"Fine weather," says he-to which I, who must prate,
Answer'd, "Yes, Sir, but changeable rather, of late."
He took it, I fear, for he look'd rather gruff,
And handled his new pair of whiskers so rough,
That before all the courtiers I fear'd they'd come off,
And then, Lord! how GERAMB would triumphantly
scoff!

THE NEW COSTUME OF THE MINISTERS. For the Opening of the New Theatre of St. St-ph-n,