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huts. In the gardens and hedges beautiful ticipated. It is worth adding, that artificial colours are still peeping for the eye that flowers were never, perhaps, so well made seeks them : among flowers,—the cyclamen, as they are now, and that they may be put hazel-wort, the crocus or saffron flower that in pots and glasses like real ones, or hung up died the garments of Aurora and Hymen, in wreaths and crowns over pictures, doorthe perriwinkle, the polyanthus, yellow. ways, or the middle of a pier, where they aconite, Alpine alysson, anemone, hellebore, form at once a summer picture of their own, the fiery glow of the wall-flower, the snow. a memorial of classical times, and a beauti. drop, with its little tints of green, and the ful contrast to the squareness of the comprimrose or rose of the prime :-among partment. It was pleasantly said by sometrees and shrubs, the Glastonbury-thorn, body, on seeing a real rose after one of these whose flourishing at Christmas used to be manufactured ones, -- Very lovely, indeed! counted miraculous, laurustinus with its de. It is almost as good as artificial.' licate clumps of white, laureola or spurge- “ Those who cultivate a few flowers for laurel, pyracantha, arbutus or strawberry- their particular amusement (we do not of tree, a favourite with Virgil, which looks course address ourselves to gardeners) should like strawberries growing on a bay, and the now occasionally take in their best ranuncualaternus, which Englishmen in gratitude luses, and protect their choice carnations, should call the Evelyn, after that excellent hyacinths, and tulips, with hoops, inats, or rural patriot who first • had the honour,' glasses. It is time also, in mild dry weahe says, to bring it into use and reputation ther, to plant ranunculuses, anemones, tu. in this kingdom, and propagated it from lips, and bulbous flowers ; and for early Cornwall even to Cumberland.'. Then, as blowing, crocuses, and snow-drops. The to berries, what can be desired beyond the bulbous flowers in glasses within doors holly alone, which made this friend of Cowley should have their water kept clean ; and it burst out into a poetical rapture. • We is better for all flowers in a house to have as still dress up both our churches and houses,' much light and sunshine as possible, which says he, on Christmas and other festival some of them seem absolutely to yearn and days, with its cheerful green, and rutilunt strain after. berries. Is there under heaven a more glo. “ But the very frost itself is a world of rious and refreshing object of the kind, than pleasure and fairy beauty. The snow danan impregnable hedge of about four hundred ces down to earth, tilling all the airy vacanfoot in length, nine foot high, and five in cy with a giddy whiteness ; and minutely indiameter, which I can now shew in my spected, every particle is a chrystal star, the ruined gardens at Say's Court (thanks to the delight perhaps of myriads of invisible eyes. Czar of Muscovy) at any time of the year. The ice (hereafter destined to temper <ul. glittering with its armed and varnished cet creams' for us in the heat of summer) leaves, the taller standards at orderly dis- affords a new and rare pastime for the skaitances, blushing with their natural coral ?' ter, almost next to flying; or suddenly suc
* But what was thought enchantment in ceeding to rain, strikes the trees and the old times, may be practised now by every grasses into silver. But what can be more body who chuses to force flowers. These delicately beautiful than the spectacle which may be had all the winter-time, though they sometimes salutes the eye at the breakfastare best in every respect where they can be room window, occasioned by the hoar-frost taken care of in a green-house, or seen or frozen dew? If a jeweller had come to through a glass partition at the end of a dress every plant over night to surprise an large room, as in some of the houses of the Eastern sultan, he could not produce any rich. The truth is, that many flowers in a thing like the pearly drops,' or the silroom are not wholesome, unless they can very plumage.' An ordinary bed of greens, have air and light to enable them to give to those who are not at the mercy of their out properly that oxygen or vital air, which own vulgar associations, will sometimes look they exhale in genial situations during the like crisp and corrugated emerald, powdered day-time. During the night, they are al- with diamonds. ways unwholesome, as they throw out hy- “ Under the apparent coldness of the snow, drogen and absorb the oxygen. And yet the herbaceous plants, which die down to perhaps our excessively artificial and in-door the root in autumn, lie nourishing their habits, in helping to enervate us, render un shoots for the spring. Nor is much done wholesome what would be otherwise percep by the animal creation, man included, tible only as a pleasure. At all events, a during this period. Many birds and rep. few flowers on a shelf, such as hyacinths tiles make a long night-time of the hard and jonquils, can do no harm, and are very season, and are awake only in finer weabeautiful with their curling or down-looking ther. The domestic cattle are mostly lodged buds, and their ivory, roots seen through the in the homestead. The farmer lops and water. The rest of the flowers that may be cuts timber, mends thorn hedges, and draws forced in winter are lilacs, lilies of the val. manure to his fields. Many trades, espeley (an exquisite intermixture of leaves and cially those connected with water, are at a bells), mignonette or the little darling, stand during the frost. The thresher's pinks, polyanthus narcissus, roses, tulips, time is the merriest as well as most in. and violets ; in fact, a whole summer an. dustrious, for he works away his fail in
the barn. In the merrier days of our an. The lasses in the gardens
Shew forth their heads of hair,
And shade their eyes with lifted hand.
And then again they're off there,
As if their lovers came,
Like doves but newly tame;
Ah ! light your cheeks at Nature, do,
And draw the whole world after you.
Two Sonnets, with the signature I., and then again the long snug evening re- we opine to be the property of the turns, with the “ sopha wheeled round,” “ Muse's Son of Promise, two and the “ curtains" down; or balls and feats of Johnny Keates.” We cannot theatres invite them to hurry betwixt house be mistaken of them. Whatever be and house the one sending them with per- the name of the supposed fatherfect digestion to sleep, or the other help- Tims or Tomkins—Johnny Keates ing to remind them of the common rights
gignated these sonnets. To each of of humanity, a lesson now peculiarly sea
them we may say, sonable. If the farmer thinks it his duty, as well as his interest, to take care of his Sleep image of thy Father, sleep my Boy!” very cattle, and see them well housed, how
are anxious to bring this much more incumbent is it upon the rich
young writer into notice, we quote his to look after their poor fellow-creatures,
THE HUMAN SÉASONS.
There are four seasons in the mind of man; in vain, for they can receive none ;-no!
He has his lusty Spring, when fancy clear
Takes in all beauty with an easy span: and least of all from Nature, notwithstand- He has his Summer, when luxuriously ing her ever-ready and exuberant treasures.
Spring's honied cud of youthful thought he loves
To ruminate, and by such dreaming nigh
His soul has in its Autumn, when his wings
He furleth close; contented so to look by Mr Keates. Mr Hunt's contribu- On mists in idleness-to let fair things tions are entitled “ Power and Gen
Pass by unheeded as a threshold brook.
He has his Winter too of pale misfeature, tleness,” and “The Summer of 1818.” Or else he would forego his mortal nature. The first has some picturesque lines in it, but is unendurably Cockneyish, and
SONNET TO AJLSA ROCK at times unintelligible to the exist- Hearken, thou craggy ocean pyramid!
Give answer from thy voice, the sea fowls' ing race of man; as, for example, Eagles on their rocks
When were thy shoulders mantled in huge With straining feet, and that fierce mouth and drear,
streams? Answering the strain with downward drag austere. When, from the sun, was thy broad forehead hid? Does the last of these lines describe
How long is't since the mighty power bid
Thee heave to airy sleep from fathom dreams? the Spread Eagle Coach going down Sleep in the lap of thunder or sunbeams, hill with the wheel locked?
Or when grey clouds are thy cold coverlid.
Thou answer'st not, for thou art dead asleep; mer in 1818,” is, on the whole, really
Thy life is but two dead eternities.com amiable and pretty—though there is The last in air, the former in the deep;
First with the whales, last with the eagle-skies something risible in the poet's mouth
Drown'd wast thou till an earthquake made thee
Another cannot wake thy giant size.
The first of these compositions is
very well—a common and hackneyed The months we used to read of
thought is illustrated in a novel and Are come to us again,
also natural manner and we thank With sunniness and sunniness And rare delights of rain;
Mr Keates for his sonnet. But who The lark is up, and says aloud,
but himself could form a collocation East and west I see no cloud. The lanes are full of roses,
of words to produce such portentous The fields are grassy deep;
folly as in the second ? Mister John The leafiness and floweriness Make one abundant heap;
Keates standing on the sea-shore at
Dunbar, without a neckcloth, accord-
ing to custom of Cockaigne, and crossIs still found smiling by;
questioning the Craig of Ailsa !
• " Thou answerest not for thou art dead asleep!"
This reminds us of an exclamation
in an ode lately submitted to our To stay thy car upon the Latmos hill,
Touch with a clouded hand thy look of light; perusal by an ingenious and modest
Nor elemental blight young man, in which, about half way Mar the rich beauties of thy hyacinthine hair. down, he exclaims, as if prophetically, Queen of the tumbling floods! oh lend thine ear
READER AWAKE!” There is much --Fright not the Halcyon from her watery nest, smartness in the idea of “ two dead When on the scarcely-moving waves she sits
Listening-sore distrest eternities.” An eternity especially, Lest that the winds, in sullen fits, past with whales, is enough to make
Should come, and lift the curling seas on high :
-Yet, if the storm must come-then Dian ! then the stoutest reader blubber. Do not let Scatter the billows from the Delphic shore, John Keates think we dislike him.
And bid the monsters of the deep go roar
In those far foreign caves
For ever, (dug, 'tis said, by giant men but at present he has not more than
Beneath Pelorus’ rugged promontory.) about a dozen admirers, Mr Leigh On thy white altar we Hunt whom he feeds on the oil-cakes Lavish in fond idolatry.
Herbs and sweet flowers such as the summer uses: of flattery till he becomes flatulent
Some that in wheaton fields of praise, -Mr Benjamin Haydon, Lift their red bells amidst the golden grain :
Some that the moist earth yields, who used to laugh at him till that fa- Beneath the shadows of those pine trees high, mous sonnet-three engrossing clerks Which, branching, shield the far Thessalian and six or seven medical students, From the fierce anger of Apollo's eyewho chaunt portions of Endymion as
And some that Delphic swains
Pluck by the silver springs of Castalythey walk the hospitals, because the Yet, there—thus it is said the wanton Muses, author was once an apothecary. We
Their dark and tangled locks adorning,
Lie stretch'd on green slopes 'neath the laurel alone like him and laugh at him. boughs, He is at present a very amiable, silly, And the they Suun thee throʻ the livelong night,
weave garlands lisping, and pragmatical young gentle- Bend their blue eyes before the God of morning, man-but we hope to cure him of all
And hail with shouts his first return of light.-) that-and should have much pleasure Before whose moony brown,
Now and for ever hail, great Dian !--Thou, in introducing him to our readers in a The rolling planets die, or lose their fires, year or two speaking the language of And all the bravery of Heaven retires
-There, Saturn dimly turns within his ring, this country, counting his fingers cor- And Jove looks pale upon his burning throne; rectly, and condescending to a neckcloth. There, the great hunter-king
Orion, mourns with watery glare, Why should Leigh Hunt and John The tarnish'd lustre of his blazing zoneKeates have a higher opinion of them
Thou only through the blue and starry air,
In unabated beauty rid'st along, selves, than Barry Cornwall? One Companion’d by our song 66 dramatic seene"-even the very
Turn hither, then, thy clear and stedfast smile,
To grace our humble welcoming, tainest and most imitative of them all And free the poet's brain is worth both “ The two dead Eter
From all but that so famous pain,
Which sometimes, at the still midnight, nities” of the Cockneys.
Stirs his creative fancyings, while,
(Charm'd by thy silver light) charge Barry Cornwall, coram popu- He strives, not vainly then, his sweetest song to lo, with the following hymn to Diana.
sing. It is classical, without being pedantic. It would greatly amuse us, to meet HYMN TO DIANA.
in company together Johnny Keates Dian !-We seek thee in this tranquil hour; and Percy Bysshe Shelly,--and as they We call thee by thy names of power ;
are both friends of Mr Leigh Hunt, Lucina ! first-(that tender name divine, Which young and travail'd dames adore and fear;) we do not despair of witnessing the Child of the dark-brow'd Proserpine ! Star-crowned Dian! Daughter of Jove
conjunction of these planets on HampOlympian! Mother of blind Love!
stead Hill, when we visit London in Fair Cynthia ! Towered Cybele ! Lady of stainless chastity!
spring. A bird of paradise and a Bend low thy listening ear,
Friezeland fowl would not look more And smile upon us, now the long day's toil, absurdly, on the same perch. Hear Beautiful queen! is done, And from the withering sun
with what a deep voice of inspiration Save thou and bless the perch'd and fainting soil ;
A pale dream came to a Lady fair,
And said, a boon, a boon, I pray!
I know the secrets of the air,
And things are lost in the glare of day,
Which I can make the sleeping see,
If they will put their trust in me.
And thou shalt know of things unknown,
If thou will let me rest between When calm he slumbers on the mountain's brow : The veiny lids, whose fringe is thrown And may no doubt, not care,
Over thine eyes so dark and sheen: When thou shalt wish, on nights serene and And half in hope, and half in fright, still
The lady closed her eyes so bright.
At first, all deadly shapes were driven
The plank whereon that Lady sate
Was driven thro’ the chasms about and about,
Between the peaks so desolate
Of the drowning mountains in and out
As the thistle beard on a whirlwind sails
While the flood was filling those hollow vales.
At last her plank an eddy crost,
And bore her to the city's wall,
Which now the flood had reached almost;
It might the stoutest heart appal
To hear the fire roar and hiss
Thro' the domes of those mighty palaces.
The eddy whirl'd her round and round
Before a gorgeous gate, which stood
Piercing the cloud of smoke, which bound
Its aery arch with light like blood;
She look'd on that gate of marble clear
With wonder that extinguish'd fear.
For it was filled with sculptures rarest
Of forms most beautiful and strange,
Like nothing human, but the fairest
Of winged shapes, whose legions range
Throughout the sleep of those that are,
Like this same Lady, good and fair.
And as she looked, still lovelier grew
Those marble forms ;---the sculptor sure
Was a strong spirit, and the hue
Of his own mind did there endure
After the touch, whose power had braided
Such grace, was in some sad change faded.
She looked, the flames were dim, the flood
Grew tranquil as a woodland river
Winding thro' hills in solitude ;
Those marble shapes then seemed to quiver,
And their fair limbs to float in motion,
Like weeds unfolding in the ocean.
And their lips moved ;-one seemed to speak,
When suddenly the mountains crackt,
And thro' the chasm the flood did break
With an earth-uplifting cataract :
The statues gave a joyous scream,
And on its wings, the pale thin dream
Lifted the Lady from the stream.
The dizzy flight of that phantom pale,
Waked the fair Lady from her sleep.
And she arose, while from the veil
Of her dark eyes the dream did creep,
And she walked about as one who knew
That sleep has sights as clear and true
As any waking eyes can view.
So much for the “Literary Pocket-
Book” 1819. The earth has perform-
ed its revolution round the sun, and
that number is no more. What would
we not give for a reading of Mr
Leigh Hunt's Literary Pocket-Book
for 1819! Could Messrs Olliers get
Lick'd its high domes, and over head
and rural manuscribes, they would be
very diverting. Put down our names, Its sulphurous ruin on the plains.
at random, for a dozen copies.
The “ Literary Pocket-Book" for
1820 is just published. The lists are
pretty much the same as formerly—
but we believe, both fuller and more
correct. In place of the “ Callendar
of Nature," we have from the pen of
a Callendar of Observers,"
or specimens of the greater or less
enjoyment which people derive from Of the whirlpool bore her to and fro.
the world they live in, according to The waves were fiercely vomited
the number and healthiness of their From every tower and ev'ry dome, And dreary light did widely shed
perceptions!” The Observers are six O'er that vast flood's suspended foam,
The Mere Lounger Beneath the smoke which hung its night On the stained cope of heaven's light.
The Mere Man of Business-The Bi
got—The Mere Sportsman-TheMere forth with new strength and sprightliness, Sedentary Liver, and the Observer of the dog scampering about his master in Nature. Mr Hunt tells us, with his hopes he is going towards the fields, and usual eleverness, what each of these hyacinths, narcissuses, and violets in the
green markets : and seeing these, he cancharacters sees in each of the seasons.
not but hasten the faster to see the country. SPRING.
Instead of reading his book at home, he “The mere Lounger.-Sees his face in the takes it with him, and sees what the poets glass, and yawns. Sees his tailor, who in describe. He sees the returning blue of forms him that it is spring. Sees several the sky, the birds all in motion, the glanpersons, horses, and suits of clothes in Bond cing showers, the after-laughing sun, the Street. Sees some pretty faces. Sees a maiden blossoms in the gardens, the thick. great deal of green and white in the milli. ening leafiness of the hedges, the perfect ner's shops, and thinks the country must be young green of the meadows, the bustling getting pretty. Takes a ride round the farm-yards, the far prospects, the near and Regent's Park, and sees Jones.
odorous bowers, the bee bounding forth « The Mere Man of Business.Sees his with his deep song through the lightsome clerks or apprentices up. Sees his custom- atmosphere, the kids leaping, the cattle ers come in all day." Sees their money. placidly grazing, the rainbow spanning the Sees faces occasionally go by. Sees shelves hills in its beauty and power, the showers and bundles all about him. Sees his law. again, the blue sky again, the sun triumpha yer and broker.
Sees dinner with briefing over the moisture like bright eyes above transport, just time enough to get an in- dewy lips, the perfumed evening, the gentle digestion. Sees to his accounts in the even- and the virgin moon. Going home, he sees ing, and endeavours to think himself a every thing again with the united transport happy man. Sees his goods adulterated. of health and imagination, and in his dreams Goes to bed, and sees in his dreams a great sees his friend and his mistress as happy as pale multitude looking at him, whom he himself. sets down for people he has cheated. Sees himself exposed, and wakes in a trepida- “The Mere Lounger.-Goes into the countion. N. B. It is the fumes of indigestion, try to see Jones. Sees Jones. Sees some which in these and other cases inspire a horses. Sees little else in the country but man's dreams with a certain Delphic hor- the absence of town. Is shown a prospect,
and sees in it a considerable resemblance to “ The Bigot.-Sees the sunshine, and
a scene at the Opera. Sees a storm, and thinks how happy he and his friends will hopes it won't rain next Wednesday. be in heaven exclusively.
The Mere Man of Business.—Is sorry to going towards the country laughing, and see the town so empty. Sees some flowers gaily dressed.
Sees in them only so at the door, but declines buying any, bemany devoted victims to eternal fire ; calls cause he will not give the price asked by a the world a vile world ; and sees his debtor half-penny. Sees some new dishes on his sent to prison. Sees the building of his table at dinner, and has a remote notion chapel going on, and counts up his profits, that he enjoys himself. Feels himself half monied and eternal. Sees his servant bring- stifled with the weather, the dust, the close ing in a green goose for dinner ; and says, shop, and repletion ; and sees the pave. with an air of delighted regret, that he ment before his door watered with a tin fears his friend the gun-maker is too late. canister, in liquid lines of refreshment a quill
“ The Mere Sportsman-Sees a fox. Sees thick. him several times over. Sees a girl's com- “The Bigot. Sees the beauty of the counplexion and ancles. Sees his friends all try, but thinks it wrong to bemoved by earth. drunk after dinner.
ly delights, and hastens home to his roast pig. “ The Mere Sedentary Liver.-Sees his Sees nothing in the world after dinner but a tongue in the glass. Sees the fine weather, fleeting shew. Finds it very hot ; sees a fiery and calls to mind all that the poets have kind of horrid look in the sunshine; and is not said about it. Takes his first walk this quite easy in thinking that ninety-nine hunyear, and sees numberless things, but all dredths of his fellow creatures are to be discoloured and half pleasant. Goes home burnt for ever ; thinks it impious however and sees with delight a new packet of to suppose his Maker too kind to suffer it, books. Reads an account of a man who and comforts himself with callousness. saw a spectre, and almost sees it himself. “ The Mere Sportsman.-Sees a hare, Goes to bed, and sees in his sleep a vision Sees a friend in a ditch. Does not see him shockingly mixed up of oddity and horror. out. Sees, in a transport of
“ The observer of Nature.-Sees the first hounds at fault. Goes to angle, to settle fine spring day and leaps up with transport. his spirits; and with considerable relief, Sees a world full of beauty and pleasure sees several fish drawn gasping out of the even in towns. Sees the young and fair water with a hook in their jaws, and a abroad, and sees their lovely countenances salmon crimped alive. and minds. Sees the white pigeons career. “ The Mere Sedentary Liver.-Sees with ing round the steeple, the horses issuing delight the flowers in his window, and vows
Sees a party