They, by a strange frenzy driven, | fight for power, for plunder, and extended rule. We, for our coun'try, our altars, and our homes. They follow an adventurer whom they fear, and obey a power | which they hate. We serve a monarch | whom we love, a God whom we adore! | b с Whene'er they move in anger, desolation tracks their progress; where'er they pause in am'ity, affliction mourns their friend ship. They boast they come but to improve our state', | enlarge our thoughts', | and free us from the yoke of error! Yes - they will give enlightened freedom to our minds, who are themselves the slaves of passion, | av'arice, | and 1 pride. I Yes, - | such pro They offer us their protection. tection as vultures give to lambs', | | covering, and devouring them! They call on us to barter all of good we have inherited, and proved, for the despeL rate chance of something better | which they prom ise. | Be our plain answer this. :| The throne we honor | is the people's choice the laws we reverence are our brave fathers' legacy | the faith we follow ! teaches us to live in bonds of charity with all mankind, and die with hopes of bliss | beyond the grave...] Tell your invaders this; | and tell them too', we seek no change; and least of all', | such change | as they' would bring us. | a CHILDE HAROLD'S ADDRESS TO THE OCEAN. (BYRON.) O that the desert were my dwell'ing-place, | Mon'nårk; not monnuck. b Move in anger; not mo-vin-nang ger. • Pause in amity; not paw-zin-nam'ity. swer; not plain-nan'swer. e Plain an Rêv'èr-êns; not revuruncé. in whose ennobling stir I feel myself exalted can ye not | Accord me such a being? | Do I err ! In deeming such inhabit many a spot? Though with them to converse, can rarely be our lot. : There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,, ! There is a rap'ture on the lonely shore', | There is society, where none intrudes | By the deep sea', and music in its roar. | I love not man the less, but nature more', From these, our interviews, in which I steal | From all I may be, or have been before, | To mingle with the universe, and feel | What I can ne'er express', yet cannot all conceal. [ Roll on', thou deep, and dark-blue ocean roll ! | Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain; Man marks the earth' with ruin- | his control | Stops with the shore; upon the watery plain | | The wrecks are all thy' deed, | nor doth remain | A shadow of man's ravage, | save his own, | When, for a moment, like a drop of rain', | He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan', | Without a grave,/unknell❜d`, uncof`fin'd, and unknown. His steps are not upon thy paths, thy fields | | Are not a spoil for him, thou dost arise, | And shake him from' thee; the vile strength he wields] For earth's destruction, thou dost all despise, | Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies', And send'st him, |'shivering in thy playful spray, | And howling to his gods', 'where haply lies | His petty hope, in some near port, or bay, | Then dashest him again to earth':- there let him lay,. Roll on; not roll-lon'. b Důst. Port, or bay; not Porter Bay. Agen'. The armaments which thunderstrike the walls | Of rock-built cit'ies, | bidding nations quake, | And monarchsa tremble in their capitals, | The oak leviathans | whose huge ribs make Their clay-creator the vain title take | Of lord of thee', and arbiter of war; | I These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake', ! They melt into thy yest of waves, which mar,| Alike, the Armada's pride, or spoils of Trafalgar. | Thy shores are em'pires, | chang'd in all save thee — | ! Assyria, Greece, Rome', Carthage, what are they? Thy waters wasted them while they were free', | And many a tyrant since,; their shores obey | The stranger, slave', or savage; their decay | Has dri'd up realms to deserts: not so thou', } Unchangeable, save to thy wild waves' play, - 1 Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow Such as creation's dawn' beheld, thou rollest now. Thou glorious mirror, | 'where the Almighty's form | Glasses itself in tempests; | 2in all' time, | 1 Calm, or convuls'd in breeze', or gale', or storm, | Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime, | Dark-heaving; boundless, end'less, and sublime -| The image of eternity 'the throne | - Of the Invisible; 'e'en from out thy slime' | The monsters of the deep are made; each zone | Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread', fath'omless, lalōne,.| SP And I have lov'd' thee, o'cean! | and my joyl Of youthful sports, was on thy breast to be | Borne, like thy bubbles, on ward: | from a boy' I wanton'd with thy breakers: they to me, I Were a delight'; and, if the fresh'ning sea | Made them a terror't was a pleasing fear,¦ For I was as it were a child of thee, I And trusted to thy billows, far, and near, | And aid my hand upon thy mane' as I do here. I Trâf-fäl-går APOSTROPHE TO THE QUEEN OF FRANCE. (BURKE.) It is now sixteen, or seventeen years', since I saw the queen of France, then the dauphiness, at Versailles; and surely, never lighted on this orb, | (which she hardly seemed to touch) a more delightful vision. | I saw her just above the horizon, decorating, and cheering the elevated sphere | she just began to move, in glittering like the morning star-full of life', | and splen'dor, and joy. 'Oh what a revolution! and what a heart must I have, to 'contemplate without emotion, that elevation, and that fall!| I ! 'Little did I dream', | when she added titles of veneration to those of enthusiastic, distant, respectful love, | that she should ever be obliged to carry the sharp antidote against disgrace', concealed in that bo.som-| little did I dream that I should have lived | to see such disasters fallen upon her in a nation of gallant men',— in a nation of men of honor, and of cavaliers. | I thought ten thousand swords must have leaped from their scabbards | to avenge even a look' | that threatened her with insult. But the age of chivalry is gone..] That of sophisters, | economists, and calculators, | has succeeded; and the glory of Europe, is extinguished I for ever. Never, never more, | shall we behold that generous loyalty to rank and sex, that proud submission,that dignified obedience I that subordination of the heart which kept alive, even in servitude itself, | the spirit of an exalted free dom. The unbought grace of life, the cheap defence of nations, | the nurse of manly sentiment, and heroic enterprise, is gone! It is gone, that sensibility of principle, that chastity of honor, which felt a stain like a wound, which inspired courage whilst it mitigated ferocity, which enno'bled whatever it touched; and under which, vice itself | lost half its evil, | by losing all its gross.ness. | BATTLE OF WARSAW. (CAMPBELL.) O sacred Truth! | thy triumph ceas'd' awhile, Warsaw's last champion, from her height, survey'd, | He said- and on the rampart-heights, array'd | In vain, alas! | in vain, ye gallant few! a Pandour (French), Hungarian soldier. b Hůz-zår, one of the Hungarian horsemen, so called from the shout they generally make, at the first onset. |