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moment, he vowed eternal enmity to all their race! "Their souls are strangers to pity," thought he; "they feel not for the calamities of others, therefore let them perish, and let their crimes rest upon their heads." But as soon as they made signals of urgent distress, his gene. rous nature melted into compassion. "Thave not another Yarro now to lose," recollected he-my own existence is not worth preserving-but shall I see my fellow creatures perish, and not extend a hand to save them? No! if they are ignorant and ungrateful, I will teach them by my example to be generous and merciful.

With this be assembled his friends, who joined to aid the crew, and draw the boat up into a place of safety. Amidst this scene of terror and confusion, a female of his own complexion, drenched with wet, and ready to perish, with uplifted hands implored assistance. Ŏrra rushed forward, and had the felicity to snatch from the jaws of fate his beloved Yarro! All the mingled passions overwhelmed their souls; for awhile they were unable to express their feelings, but by mutual silence and tears!

When rapture had adinitted of explanation, he learnt from the lips of Yarro, that his former perfidious guests having watched the opportunity, put in at the back of the island, while Orra was waiting their arrival on the opposite shore; they reached the hut ir his absence, forced away their defenceless victim, and conveyed her ou board their ship. On the second day a storm arose, the vessel struck on a rock, and every soul save Yarro and another perished. These were picked up by the boat of another ship. In a few days after, this vessel was likewise overtaken by a storm, and distressed for fresh water, and under the directions of Yarro, they sent off their boat to this part of the island in quest of that essential article, where she again fell into the hands of her beloved Orra.

Such, and so mysterious are the dispensations of Providence!-that virtue and humanity should frequently find their own reward in the act of rendering good for evil; and that vice and jugratitude should meet their own punishment, even in the accomplishment of their wishes!

W. H..

THE BIRTH OF BURNS-A DRAMATIC SCRAP.

And wear thou this," she solemn said,
And bound the holly round my head;
The polish'd leaves, and berries red,
Did rustling play;

And like a passing thought, she fled
In light away.'

Burns.

SCENE-A Room in a small Hut; a Child lying in
a Cradle. Enter NATURE, leading in FANCY, RUS-
TICITY, and PLEASURE, as Fairies; the MUSES and
GRACES on either side of them. Then, enters MELAN-
CHOLY, slowly following.

Nature. Sisters, sisters, come away;
Touch with magic art this clay,
Ever lovely, ever fair,

Make it your peculiar care.
By this wand of sacred treasure,
By the gifts of Heavenly pleasure,
By all our boundless power I swear,
He shall be my constant care.
All. He shall be my constant care.

Nature. Your wreathes around his temples twine,
All your charms at once combine;
E'er the infant rose is flown,
We'll make a "poet of our own."

Fancy. Mother of charms! immortal queen!
Light of earth, and every scene!
'Tis thine thy will alone to say;
Our's-instinctive to obey.

Sweet babe, thou fair pledge of an innocent love!
In thy soul, tho' now slumb'ring, my spirit shall move;
There kindle the sparks of the Heavenly ray,
Till the years of thy childhood are vanish'd away:
And then like the dew of the morn to the gale,
It shall rise from thy soul and with majesty shine;
My spirit to soothe thee o'er all shall 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,

Through my vales thy sweet numbers shall echo and chime;

No charm that I boast shall be premier to thee;

We'll hail 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.

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Muses. Seraphic lyre! lend your fire;

Let the warbling lute complain.*

Graces. Love and Pleasure, yield your treasure;
Beauty harmonize his reign.

Pleasure. If the sunshine of Fancy, the bliss of the
Muse,

The heartfelt desire for glory and fame;

If these shall have power thy soul to infuse,
O! why should not Pleasure still 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 his 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. O work celestial! incomplete, unfinished;-yet so fair!

'Tis mine to blast thy rose of fertile bloom;

Mine to o'erwhelm thy hope with grim despair,
And crush thy blossom in an early tomb.

Thus in thy soul I pour my baneful breath:
So, while the shepherd leaves his bleating lamb,
The prowling wolf with hideous cries of death
Devours its prey, nor heeds the yearnings of its dam.
Re-enter NATURE, &c. as before.

Nature. Ah! sad destruction to our native babe!
Foul fiend, avaunt! in shades of darkness hide
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.]

• Pope

C. S.

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 sentimental 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 hangs its foliage fair,
And Po's tall poplar waves its top in air,
And the dark maple spreads its umbrage wide,
And the white beach adorns the basin side;
At noon reclin'd, perhaps, he sits to view
The bank's neat slope, the water's silver hue,
Where, midst thick oaks the subterraneous way,
To the arch'd grot admits a feeble ray.
Where glossy pebbles pave the varied floors,
And rough flint-walls are deck'd with shells and ores
And silvery pearls, spread o'er the roofs on high,
Glimmer like faint stars in a twilight sky:
From noon's fierce glare, perhaps, he pleas'd retires,
Indulging musings which the place inspires.
Now where the airy octagon ascends,

And wide the prospect o'er the vale extends,
Midst evening's calm, intent perhaps he stands,
And looks o'er all that length of sun-gilt lands,
Of bright green pastures, stretch'd by rivers clear,
And willow groves, or osier islands near!"

Amwell boasts also of having had amongst its inhabitants, 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 particularly mentions Amwell Hill.

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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 mountains. On one of them, a little above the town, are the remains 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 expence 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.

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