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MISTS. ON MOUNTAINS.

-The mists

Flying, and rainy vapours, call out shapes
And phantoms from the crags and solid earth,
As fast as a musician scatters sounds
Out of an instrument.

THE INFLUENCE OF MOUNTAIN SCENERY.

Has not the soul, the being of your life,
Received a shock of awful consciousness,
In some calm season, when these lofty rocks,
At night's approach, bring down the unclouded sky,
To rest upon their circumambient walls;
A temple framing of dimensions vast,
And yet not too enormous for the sound
Of human anthems, choral song, or burst
Sublime of instrumental harmony,
To glorify the Eternal!

A SWAN.

Behold! the mantling spirit of reserve,
Fashions his neck into a goodly curve.

THE SONG OF BIRDS IN AUTUMN.

No faint and hesitating trill,
Such tribute as to winter chill,

The lovely red breast pays;
Clear, loud, and lively in the din,
From social warblers gathering in
Their harvest of sweet lays.

THE AGED BEGGAR.

He travels on, a solitary man,

His age has no companion—

His staff trails with him; scarcely do his feet
Disturb the summer dust; he is so still

In look and motion, that the cottage curs,
Ere he have passed the door, will turn away,
Weary of barking at him.

TO A NIGHTINGALE.

Oh! nightingale, thou surely art

A creature of a fiery heart:

These notes of thine-they pierce, and pierce;
Tumultuous harmony and fierce!

THE FERN.

-Plant, lovelier in its own retired abode,
On Grassmere's beach, than Naiad by the side
Of Grecian brook, or lady of the Mere,
Sole-sitting by the shores of old Romance.

A CALM AT SEA.

Or like a ship some gentle day,
In sunshine sailing far away-
A beauteous ship that has the plain
Of ocean for her own domain.

FANCIES.

Fresh as a star that crowns the brow of morn;
Bright, speckless as a softly-moulded tear,
The moment it has left the virgin's eye,
Or rain-drop lingering on the pointed thorn.

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And sure there is a secret power that reigns,
Here, where no trace of man the spot profanes,
Nought, but the herds that, pasturing upward, creep,
Hung, dim-discovered, from the dangerous steep,
Or summer hamlet, flat and bare, on high
Suspended 'mid the quiet of the sky.

AN EVENING SCENE.

While day's purple eye

Is gently closing with the flowers of spring,
Where even the motion of an angel's wing
Would interrupt the intense tranquillity
Of silent hills, and more than silent sky.

RECOLLECTIONS OF THE PAST.
-Thy mind

Shall be a mansion for all lovely forms,
Thy memory be as a dwelling-place
For all sweet sounds and harmonies.

IMPRESSIONS OF CHILDHOOD.

The rainbow comes and goes;
And lovely is the rose;

The moon doth with delight

Look round her when the heavens are bare;
Waters on a starry night

Are beautiful and fair;

The sunshine is a glorious birth;

But yet I know, where'er I go,

That there hath passed away a glory from the earth.

MOUNTAIN MUSIC.

The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep,
No more shall grief of mine the season wrong;
I hear the echoes through the mountains throng,
The winds come to me from the fields of sleep.

THE VANITY OF LIFE.

Our noisy years seem moments in the being
Of the eternal silence-

CONSOLATION IN OLD AGE.

What though the radiance which was once so bright
Be now for ever taken from my sight;

Though nothing can bring back the hour

Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;
We will grieve not, rather find

Strength in what remains behind,
In the primal sympathy

Which having been must ever be
In the soothing thoughts that spring
Out of human suffering;

In the faith that looks through death,
In years that bring the philosophic mind!

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Loud is the vale !-this inland depth
In peace is roaring like the sea!
Yon Steer upon the mountain-top
Is listening quietly.

THE EFFECT OF MUSIC.

and when the stream

Which overflowed the soul was passed away,
A consciousness remained, that it had left
Deposited upon the silent shore

Of memory, images and precious thoughts
That shall not die and cannot be destroyed.

A PEACEFUL IMAGE.

smooth and still

As the mute swan that floats adown the stream,
Or on the waters of the unruffled lake

Anchored her placid beauty.

A STOCK-DOVE.

His voice was buried among trees,
Yet to be come at by the breeze;
He did not cease; but cooed-and cooed,
And somewhat pensively he wooed ;
He sang of love with quiet blending,
Slow to begin, and never ending ;
Of serious faith and inward glee-
That was the
for me!
song
song-the

THE VOYAGER.

Oh, never let the wretched, if a choice

Be left him, trust the freight of his distress
To a long voyage on the silent deep!
For, like a plague, will memory break out,
And in the blank and solitude of things
Upon his spirit, with a fever's strength

Will conscience prey.-Feebly must they have felt
Who in old time attired with snakes and whips

The vengeful furies. Beautiful regards

Were turned on me-the face of her I loved:

The wife and mother, pitifully fixing

Tender reproaches, insupportable!

GILCHRIST'S EAST INDIA GUIDE.

TO THE EDITOR OF THE CALCUTTA MAGAZINE.

SIR,-I was looking over a copy of Gilchrist's Guide the other day, which had fallen in my way by mere accident, and I was so much amused with the novelty of the information it conveys, that it struck me, you would have no objection to devote a column of your valuable and interesting Magazine to a few specimens of the worthy Doctor's publication. As this work is prepared for the edification of young persons about to proceed to India, in the East India Company's service, and is also intended to give readers at home some idea of the state of society in this country, it is obvious that accuracy of local intelligence, is the feature on which its main interest and importance must depend. I will presently proceed to prove how much praise, in this point of view, the publication is entitled to. But first let me give an example of the naive and disinterested manner in which the Doctor offers his advice, while he does justice to No. 1. For the sake of distinctness I shall put a heading to all the extracts. The following passage occurs in the Preface. With what an air of modesty he speaks of himself in the third person.

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GILCHRIST ON THE IMPORTANCE OF HIS OWN WORKS.

"The Philological Publications of Gilchrist, those also of Wilkins," (what a generous admission,)" are indispensible for attaining a profici16 ency in the Persian language, and in the literature of the Hindoosaccomplishments essential for officers of every rank. "

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Equally frank and generous is the following suggestion to Captains of Ships; the author beats Rowland hollow. The excellence and utility of the incomparable Macassar Oil was never urged with so philanthropic an air, as that with which the Doctor has insisted on the advantages of purchasing his "Oriental works."

A CANDID SUGGESTION.

"And here I take the liberty of suggesting, that commanders of ves"sels bound for India, might, to good purpose, carry out an assortment "of Oriental works, either for circulation or sale, during the outward voyage, among the studious part of the passengers, who could thus imbibe, en passant, beneficial instruction."

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Having now given proofs of the Doctor's noble disinterestedness of advice, let me show the accuracy of his information. Every body is aware that few ships sail without a Surgeon on board, but it is useful to learn what is not so generally known that "few ships sail without a Tailor on board," also; though "he is not always to be had."

SHIP TAILORS.

"It is true, that few ships sail without a tailor on board, but he is "not always to be had; being generally employed by the purser; or K he may be on the sick list, &c."

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