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THE BIRTH OF BURNS.-A DRAMATIC SCRAP.
. And wear thou this,' she solemn said,
Did rustling play:
In light away.' Burns.
SCENE-4 Room in a small Hut; a Child lying in
a Cradle. Enter Nature, leading in Fancy, Rus. TICITY, and PLEASURE, as Fairies"; the Musés and GRACEs on either side of them. Then, enters MELAN.
CHOLY, slowly following.
Touch with magic art this clay,
He shall be my constant care.
All your charms at once combine;
We'll make a “poet of our own.”
Light of earth, and every scene!
Our's-instinctive to obey.
And then like the dew of the morn to the gale,
prevail, Tho' dazzling thy mind with the splendor divine. Rusticity. O, sweet is the rose-bud just op'ning its
blossom! And sweet is the scent of the hawthorn at e'en; And dear are their charms to the bard's pensive bosom,
As, wrapt in delight, he exales the bright scene:
But dearer, far dearer to me shall't thou be,
We'll liail thee the chief of the kings o' Scot's rhyme. Muses. Ever vieing, never dying,
Never cease t'exalt his name. Graces. Heaven regard our rustic bard,
Candour sound his future fame. Muses. Seraphic lyre! lend your fire;
Let ihe warbling lute complain. Graces. Love and Pleasure, yield your treasure;
Beauty barmonize his reign. Pleasure. If the sunshine of Fancy, the bliss of the The heartfelt desire for glory and fame;
If these shall have power thy soul to infuse, 0! why should not Pleasure siill brighten the flame!
Ah, Pleasure celestial! blest consort of Peace! Still valued by all, and enjoy'd by the wise;
O! ne'er in our bard shall its fluttering cease, And ne'er shall bis bosom its power despise.
Let the thunder of Fortune, of Envy, and Scorn, Point their darts' deadly venom to waken thy fear ;
But as long as thine eyes hail the beauties of morn, So long will I prove to our Poet sincere.
[They all vanish. Melancholy advances.] Mel. U work celestial! incomplete, unfinished ;-yet
so fair! 'Tis mive to blast thy rose of fertile bloom ;
Mine to o'erwhelm thy hope with grim despair,
Thus in thy soul I pour my baneful breath :
The prowling wolf with bideous cries of death
Re-enter NATURE, &c. as before.
Thy wither'd wrinkled brow, nor e'er presume, Great Nature's wrath impetuous to abide. [They all strike Melancholy with their wands ; she wreathes as expiring.]
AMWELL. MANY great men have signalized their love of the country by describing the beauties of the district in which they resided, and thus rendering it interesting to the sen. timental traveller. Amwell, a quiet village, two miles from Ware, in Hertfortshire, is principally celebrated for a beautiful estate called Amwell-Bury, laid out with much taste by a late Mr. Scott. Here he constructed a curious grotto, which 'he thus describes in his elegantly written poem, called " Amwell.”
Where China's willow bangs its foliage fair,
Amwell boasts also of having had amongst its inhabi. tants, Mr. Hoole, the translator of Tasso, and Mr. Walton, the angler; the scene of his “ Angler's Dialogues" is the vale of Lee, between Tottenham and Ware : he par. ticularly mentions Amwell Hill.
ARLISS'S LITERARY COLLECTIONS.
PONT Y CYSSLLTE, LLANGOLLEN.
ERTAINLY there is not in the dominions of Great Britain a lovelier spot than the one now before the reader,--the Bridge over the Dee, and Canal of Ellesmere, at Chirk, Llangollen. The town of Llangollen in itself is insignificant, being placed in a particularly small dale, and environed with huge moun.
tains. On one of them, a little above the town, are the remaivs of Castle Caer Dinas Brân, or Crow Castle, supposed to have been founded by Brennus, the Gaulic general: the mountain river Brân, runs at the foot of the hill.
The Dee, from the bridge at Llangollen, is a striking object, raging furionsly down the broad, solid rock, for a considerable space. From this place the prospect is really enchanting; the aqueduct of Chirk immediately in front; the peculiar richness of the valley, intersected on every side by water, in all its variety of forms, from the foaming torrent, to the silent and gentle flowing stream. A more bewitching or picturesque landscape cannot be conceived.
The famous Aqueduct, which was formed for conveying the water over the river Dee, and the vale of Llangollen, was built in the year 1795, at the expenee of the nobility and gentry of the adjacent counties. It is supported by columns of immense thickness; several of those which stand in the bed of the river, are more than one hundred feet in height. NO. XIII.
BY MR. S. L. BLANCHARD.
And no voice heard to wail! Shall no hand strew Leaves for his fame to sleep on, wearied of its way.
May not some arm be raised
Making chill reason stand amazed,
The world must bold
The pictures he hath wrought,
All, all that he hath done
Is of the sea and sun!
And kuew the language of that law,
Ard laugh to scorn
[riven And who that felt the tone, knew how the harp was
O cold neglect,
Because the earth be blind,