It is not intended to enter into any polemical discussion, as controversy is not necessary to the improvement of psalmody; but less than has been stated would not have shown the advantage to be acquired by the use of a more Christian sense to those who rely on Christ as their Redeemer. We know, from experience, how agreeable it is to the mind and senses to hear the praises to the Almighty sung by the proper rules of harmony, and with what spiritual animation the upright and sincere youth of both sexes unite in this delightful service.
With these views, I respectfully submit to the clergymen of the new churches to pursue the course which receives such universal approbation in St. James's Chapel, Mornington-place, Hampstead-road. The simplicity and effect must be strong motives to excite their attention, and I hope to witness its adoption.
THE THIEF
I tell with equal truth and grief,
That little C's an arrant thief,
Before the urchin well could go,
She stole the whiteness of the snow.
And morethat whiteness to adorn,
She snatch'd the blushes of the morn;
Stole all the softness aether pours
On primrose buds in vernal show'rs.
There's no repeating all her wiles,
She stole the Graces' winning smiles;
'Twas quickly seen she robb'd the sky,
To plant a star in either eye;
She pilfer'd orient pearl for teeth,
And suck'd the cow's ambrosial breath;
The cherry steep'd in morning dew
Gave moisture to her lips and hue.
These were her infant spoils, a store
To which in time she added more;
At twelve she stole from Cyprus' Queen
Her air and love-commanding mien;
Stole Juno's dignity, and stole
From Pallas sense, to charm the soul;
She sungamaz'd the Sirens heard
And to assert their voice appear'd.
She play'd, the Muses from their hill,
Marvell'd who thus had stole their skill;
Apollo's wit was next her prey,
Her next the beam that lights the day;
While Jove her pilferings to crown,
Pronounc'd these beauties all her own;
Pardon'd her crimes, and prais'd her art,
And t'other day she stolemy heart.
Cupid, if lovers are thy care,
Revenge thy vot'ry on this fair;
Do justice on her stolen charms,
And let her prison bemy arms.
SHAKSPEARE
In the Drama entitled Shakspeare's Early Days, the compliment which the poet is made to pay the queen: "That as at her birth she wept when all around was joy, so at her death she will smile while all around is grief," has been admired by the critics. In this jewel-stealing age, it is but just to restore the little brilliant to its owner. The following lines are in Sir William Jones's Life, translated by him from one of the Eastern poets, and are so exquisitely beautiful that I think they will be acceptable to some of your fair readers for their albums.
TO AN INFANT
On parent's knees, a naked new-born child,
Weeping thou sat'st, while all around thee smil'd.
So live, that sinking to thy last long sleep,
Calm thou may'st smile, while all around theeweep.
THE RUINED WELL
The form of ages long gone by
Crowd thick on Fancy's wondering eye,
And wake the soul to musings high!
Where are the lights that shone of yore
Around this haunted spring?
Do they upon some distant shore
Their holy lustre fling?
It was not thus when pilgrims came
To hymn beneath the night,
And dimly gleam'd the censor's flame
When stars and streams were bright.
What art thousince five hundred years
Have o'er thy waters roll'd;
Since clouds have wept their crystal tears
From skies of beaming gold?
Thy rills receive the tint of heaven,
Which erst illum'd thy shrine;
And sweetest birds their songs have given,
For music more divine.
Beside thee hath the maiden kept
Her vigils pale and lone;
While darkly have her ringlets swept
The chapel's sculptur'd stone;
And when the vesper-hymn was sung
Around the warrior's bier,
With cross and banner o'er him hung,
What splendour crown'd thee here!
But a cloud has fall'n upon thy fame!
The woodman laves his brow,
Where shrouded monks and vestals came
With many a sacred vow;
And bluely gleams thy sainted spring
Beneath the sunny tree;
Then let no heart its sadness bring,
When Nature is with thee.
A Siamese Chief hearing an Englishman expatiate upon the magnitude of our navy, and afterwards that England was at peace, cooly observed, "If you are at peace with all the world, why do you keep up so great a navy?"
A Siamese Chief hearing an Englishman expatiate upon the magnitude of our navy, and afterwards that England was at peace, cooly observed, "If you are at peace with all the world, why do you keep up so great a navy?"
THE SKETCH-BOOK
WRECK ON A CORAL REEF
I take the liberty of transmitting you an authentic, though somewhat concise, narrative of the loss of the Hon. Company's regular ship, "Cabalva," (on the Cargados, Carajos, in the Indian Seas, in latitude 16° 45 s.) in July, 1818, no detailed account having hitherto appeared. The following was written by one of the surviving officers, in a letter to a friend.
The Hon. Company's ship, Cabalva, having struck on the Owers, in the English Channel, and from that circumstance, proving leaky, and manifesting great weakness in her frame, it was thought advisable to bear up for Bombay in order to dock the ship. Meeting with a severe gale of wind off the Cape, (in which we made twenty inches of water per hour,) we parted from our consort, and shaped a course for Bombay; but on the 7th of July, between four and five A.M. (the weather dark and cloudy) the ship going seven or eight knots, an alarm was given of breakers on the larboard bow; the helm was instantly put hard-a-port, and the head sheets let go; but before it could have the desired effect, she struck; the shock was so violent, that every person was instantly on deck, with horror and amazement depicted on their countenances. An effort was made to get the ship off, but it was immediately seen that all endeavours to save her must be useless; she soon became fixed, and the sea broke over her with tremendous force; stove in her weather side, making a clear passagewashed through the hatchways, tearing up the decks, and all that opposed its violence.