Note 1, page 167, lines 7 and 8.

-the sunbow's rays still arch

The torrent with the many hues of heaven.

rainbow, come down to pay a visit, and so close that you may walk into it:-this effect lasts till noon.

Note 2, page 167, lines 103 and 104.

He who from out their fountain dwellings raised
Eros and Anteros, at Gadara.

The philosopher Iamblicus. The story of the raising of Eros and Anteros may be found in his life by Eunapius. It is well told.

Note 3, page 168, lines 67 and 68.
she replied

In words of dubious import, but fulfill'd.
The story of Pausanias, king of Sparta, (who com-

Note 4, page 171, lines 142 and 143. the giant sons

Of the embrace of angels.

"That the Sons of God saw the daughters of men that they were fair," &c.

"There were giants in the earth in those days; and also after that, when the Sons of God came in unto the daughters of men, and they bare children to them, the same became mighty men which were of old, men of renown." Genesis, ch. vi. verses 2 and 4.

ADVERTISEMENT.

THE subsequent poems were written at the request of my friend, the Hon. D. Kinnaird, for a selection of Hebrew Melodies, and have been published, with the music, arranged, by Mr. BRAHAM and Mr. NATHAN.

SHE WALKS IN BEAUTY.
1.

SHE walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
2.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,

Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express

How pure, how dear their dwelling-place. 3.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,

So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

THE HARP THE MONARCH MINSTREL

SWEPT. 1.

The harp the monarch minstrel swepi,
The King of men, the loved of Heaven,
Which music hallow'd while she wept

O'er tones her heart of hearts had given,
Redoubled be her tears, its chords are riven!

It soften'd men of iron mould,

It gave them virtues not their own;
No ear so dull, no soul so cold,

That felt not, fired not to the tone,
Till David's lyre grew mightier than his throne!

2.

It told the triumphs of our King,
It wafted glory to our God;

It made our gladden'd valleys ring,

The cedars bow, the mountains nod;

Its sound aspired to Heaven and there abode! Since then, though heard on earth no more, Devotion and her daughter Love

Still bid the bursting spirit soar

To sounds that seem as from above,
In dreams that day's broad light can not remove,

IF THAT HIGH WORLD.
1.

If that high world, which lies beyond
Our own, surviving Love endears;
If there the cherish'd heart be fond,

The eye the same, except in tears—
How welcome those untrodden spheres!
How sweet this very hour to die!
To soar from earth and find all fears
Lost in thy light-Eternity!

It must be so: 't is not for self
That we so tremble on the brink;
And striving to o'erleap the gulf,

Yet cling to Being's severing link.
Oh! in that future let us think

To hold each heart the heart that shares, With them the immortal waters drink, And soul in soul grow deathless theirs!

Since thy triumph was bought by thy vowStrike the bosom that's bared for thee now; 2.

And the voice of my mourning is o'er,
And the mountains behold me no more:
If the hand that I love lay me low,
There cannot be pain in the blow!

S.

And of this, oh, my Father! be sure--
That the blood of thy child is as pure
As the blessing I beg ere flow,

And the last thought that soothes me below.

OH! SNATCH'D AWAY IN BEAUTY'
BLOOM.
1.

Oh! shatch'd away in beauty's bloom,
On thee shall press no ponderous tomb;
But on thy turf shall roses rear
Their leaves, the earliest of the year;
And the wild cypress wave in tender gloom:
2.

And oft by yon blue gushing stream

Shall Sorrow lean her drooping head, And feed deep thought with many a dream, And lingering pause and lightly tread; Fond wretch! as if her step disturb'd the dead 3.

Away! we know that tears are vain,

That death nor heeds nor hears distress
Will this unteach us to complain?

Or make one mourner weep the less?
And thou-who tell'st me to forget,
Thy looks are wan, thine eyes are wet.

MY SOUL IS DARK.
1.

My soul is dark-Oh! quickly string
The harp I yet can br ok to hear;
And let thy gentle fingers Aing

Its melting murmurs o'er mine ear.

If in this heart a hope be dear,

That sound shall charm it forth again

If in these eyes there lurk a tear,

'T will flow, and cease to burn my brain.
2.

But bid the strain be wild and deep,
Nor let thy notes of joy be first:
I tell thee, minstrel, I must weep,
Or else this heavy heart will burst;
For it hath been by sorrow nurst,

And ached in sleepless silence long; And now 't is doom'd to know the worst, And break at once-or yield to song.

I SAW THEE WEEP. 1.

I saw thee weep-the big bright tea: Came o'er that eye of blue;

Thou whose spell can raise the dead, Bid the prophet's form appear. Samuel, raise thy buried head! King, behold the phantom seer!" Ea.ch yawn'd; he stood the centre of a cloud: Light changed its hue, retiring from his shroud. Death stood all glassy in his fixed eye; His hand was wither'd, and his veins were dry; His foot, in bony whiteness, glitter'd there, Shrunken and sinewless, and ghastly bare; From lips that moved not and unbreathing frame, Like cavern'd winds, the hollow accents came.

Saul saw, and fell to earth, as falis the oak, At once, and blasted by the tnunder-stroke, 2.

"Why is my sleep disquieted?
Who is he that calls the dead?
Is it thou, O king? Behold,
Bloodless are these limbs, and cold
Such are mine: and such shall bo
Thine to-morrow, when with me:
Ere the coming day is done,
Such shalt thou be, such thy son.
Fare thee well, but for a day;
Then we mix our mouldering clay.
Thou, thy race, lie pale and low,
Pierced by shafts of many a bow;
And the falchion by thy side
To thy heart thy hand shall guide:
Crownless, breathless, headless fall,
Son and sire, the house of Saul!"

"ALL IS VANITY, SAITH THE PREACHER 1.

Fame, wisdom, love, and power were mine,

And health and youth possess'd me;
My goblets blush'd from every vine,

And lovely forms caress'd me;

I sunn'd my heart in beauty's eyes,
And felt my soul grow tender;
All earth can give, or mortal prize,
Was mine of regal splendour.

2.

I strive to number o'er what days
Remembrance can discover,
Which all that life or earth displays
Would lure me to live over.

There rose no day, there roll'd no hour
Of pleasure unimbitter'd;
And not a trapping deck'd my power
That gall'd not while it glitter'd.

S.

The serpent of the field, by art

And spells, is won from harming; But that which coils around the heart, Oh! who hath power of charming? It will not list to wisdom's lore, Nor music's voice can lure it; But there it stings for evermore The soul that must endure it.

WHEN COLDNESS WRAPS THIS SUFFER
ING CLAY.
1.

When coldness wraps this suffering clay,
Ah, whither strays the immortal mind?

It cannot die, it cannot stay,

But leaves its darken'd dust behind.
Then, unembodied, doth it trace
By steps each planet's heavenly way?
Or fill at once the realms of space,
A thing of eyes, that all survey?
2.

Eternal, boundless, undecay'd,

A thought unseen, but seeing all,
All, all in earth, or skies display'd,
Shall it survey, shall it fecall:
Each fainter trace that memory holds
So darkly of departed years,
In one broad glance the soul beholds,
And all, that was, at once appears.