Africa. rative of the most interesting events || the western coast. This would perwhich befel the British embassy fect the geography of northern from the time of its leaving England to its return; together with his remarks on the geology, natural history, and manners of the countries visited. It will be printed in quarto, and be illustrated by maps and other engravings, under the sanction of the Honourable East India Company, and be dedicated, by permission, to Lord Amherst. A Narrative is printing of Discoveries in Africa, by Mr. Burkhardt. He has for some years been travelling in the countries south of Egypt in the disguise of an Arab, and by the name of Shekh Ibrahim, under the auspices of the African Association. He is still, it is said, prosecuting his discoveries, and entertains sanguine hopes of being able to reach Tombuctoo from the East, and proceed from that city to SONNET. Dr. Turton has ready for publication, A Conchological Dictionary of the British Islands. A residence of some years in Ireland has enabled the author to bring forward a large accession of new and valuable matter in this department of natural history. The work will be in a portable form, and accompanied with a correct outline, from the author's own cabinet, of some individual of each genus and subdivision, mostly selected from such as are nondescripts, or not known to British collectors. An Oxford Encyclopædia, or Dictionary of Arts, Sciences, and General Literature, is preparing for publication, in twenty-five parts, which will form five quarto volumes. Poetry. EUROPE! how oft on thy ensanguined plains Have tyrants arm'd against the rights of man, Waved the red torch of war-unseen the chains Which a false glory carries in the van; Whilst Superstition, whose dark banner flows Clouding the mental ray, in Heaven's high name Spreads o'er the bleeding world a thousand woes, And truth and virtue sink in one devouring flame! Peace to the slumbering ashes of the brave! Thy plain, O Waterloo! be War's stern grave, And peace once more illume the smiling ball! Hence, ye vile sophists, in the demon's train! Angel of truth, arise, assert thy golden reign! TO THE HARVEST MOON. By HENRY KIRKE WHITE. May the stain'd earth, that weeping But in unclouded majesty thou walkest view'd their fall, on thy way. Pleasing 'tis, O modest Moon! By that blue arch, this beauteous earth, Oh! that this lovely vale were mine! When boundless plenty greets his eye, And Henry's oft-returning gleams How And thinking soon, O modest Moon! many To see the load, The last dear load of harvest home. Storms and tempests, floods and rains, Hence away, the season flee, Foes to light-heart jollity! May no winds, careering high, Drive the clouds along the sky; But may all nature smile with aspect boon, By peace be sanctified. There would unto my soul be given, A piety sublime; And thoughts would come of mystic mood, And did I ask, to whom belong'd Nature's most gracious soul! When in the heavens thou shew'st thy Yes! long as Nature's humblest child face, O harvest Moon! 'Neath yon lowly roof he lies, The husbandman with sleep-seal'd eyes; He dreams of crowded barns, and round His visionary views of joy! Hath kept her table undefiled By sinful sacrifice, Earth's fairest scenes are all his own He is a monarch, and his throne Is built amidst the skies! ODE TO THE MEMORY OF LORD NELSON. God of the winds, oh! hear his humble Spoken by Mrs. W. CLIFFORD in the cha pray'r, And while the Moon of harvest shines, thy blust'ring whirlwind spare! LINES, Written in a Highland Glen, and ascribed to To whom belongs this valley fair, That streamlet's murmuring! The heavens appear to love this vale; racter of Britannia, at the conclusion of the Written by Mrs. J. COBBOLD. Did not my kindling heart expand As ever and anon some hero's name, But when upon her plumes of flame My Nelson's flag of conquest rode, Maternal pride, maternal feeling glow'd; I felt each thought aspire With more than patriot fire, And own'd, in ev'ry wreath by Nelson won, A mother's triumph in her fav'rite son. When victory's exulting tone In silence told a hero's death, Loose to the winds I gave my scatter'd hair, And wept till sadness almost seem'd despair. Now time has dried the tear, And we can gaze upon that glorious light, That in its new effulgence shone too bright For grief's enfeebled eye to bear; And they who deepest felt my woes, Whose triumphs too were mine, "Twas here that light of honour rose, The eastern and the western world; Then let the patriot band. Unite in voice, in heart, and hand; Swell loud and full the choral song, And earth and air the sound prolong, Till Ocean's depths reply, And Rule Britannia echo to the sky. LINES To a Lady who refused to accept of a Knife from the Writer. A knife, dear girl! cuts love, they say— years with you Till that be done (and I'd as soon Save only-cut and come again. L. Harrison, Printer, 373, Strand. 2. SKETCH OF A MONUMENT TO THE MEMORY OF THE PRINCESS CHARLOTTE OF WALES 3. THE SENTIMENTAL TRAVELLER'S FIRST SIGHT OF CLARA 4. LADIES' EVENING DRESS 311 . 332 . 361 . 362 . 367 PAGE TO OUR READERS AND CORRESPONDENTS. Publishers, Authors, Artists, and Musical Composers, are requested to transmit announcements of works which they may have in hand, and we shall cheerfully insert them, as we have hitherto done, free of expense. New musical publications also, if a copy be addressed to the publisher, shall be duly noticed in our Review; and extracts from new books, of a moderate length and of an interesting nature, suitable for our Selections, will be acceptable. 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