the following inscription, written by Professor Smyth,

of that University:

"Warm with fond hope, and learning's sacred flame,
To Granta's bowers the youthful Poet came;
Unconquer'd powers the immortal mind display'd,
But, worn with anxious thought, the frame decay'd;
Pale o'er his lamp, or in his cell retired,
The Martyr Student faded and expired.
O Genius, Taste, and Piety sincere !
Too early lost 'midst studies too severe !

Foremost to mourn was generous SOUTHEY seen;
He told the tale, and showed what WHITE had been ;
Nor told in vain, for o'er th' Atlantic wave
A Wanderer came, and sought the Poet's grave;
On yon low stone he saw his lonely name,
And raised this fond memorial to his fame."

Let

This handsome tribute to the memory of the youthful poet does great honour to the generous stranger by whom it was raised. We feel the sincerest pleasure in recording it; and we hail this, among many late examples of liberality towards the parent country, as a proof that better feelings will rapidly supersede those national jealousies which have so long and so unnaturally divided us. The mingled spirit of severity and ridicule with which the citizens of the United States have been assailed in our able and most popular journals, is both unjust and impolitic. We earnestly press this on the consideration of their Editors. us not assert our superiority in science and literature in a tone of contempt, but of candour and liberality, Such courtesy will be rewarded by a corresponding feeling. The Americans seem now disposed to recollect with satisfaction their former connexion with us; and we cannot but contemplate with a brotherly regard those who are sprung from the same ancestors as ourselves. Sharing the same blood, the same language and religion, it is our mutual interest to maintain the most cordial intercourse; and thus reunited, let` us allow nothing henceforward to separate us but the Atlantic.

IV. PATRIOTIC POETRY.

ODE ON THE BATTLE OF ALGIERS.

One day of dreadful occupation more,
Ere England's gallant ships

Shall,.of their beauty, pomp, and power disrobed,
Like sea-birds on the sunny main,

Rock idly in the port.

One day of dreadful occupation more!
A work of righteousness,

Yea, of sublimest mercy, must be done!
England will break the oppressors' chain,
And set the captives free.

Red cross of England, whom all shores have seen
Triumphantly displayed,

Thou sacred banner of the glorious Isle,
Known wheresoever keel hath cut

The navigable deep;

Ne'er didst thou float more proudly o'er the storm
Of havoc and of death,

Than when, resisting fiercely, but in vain,
Algiers her moony standard lowered,
And signed the conqueror's law.

Oh, if the grave were sentient, as these Moors
In erring credence hold:

And if the victims of captivity

Could in the silent tomb have heard

The thunder of the fight,

Sure their rejoicing dust upon that day
Had heaved the oppressive soil,

And earth been shaken like the mosques and towers,
When England on those guilty walls,

Her fiery vengeance sent.

Seldom hath victory given a joy like this,-
When the delivered slave

Revisits once again his own dear home,
And tells of all his sufferings past,
And blesses Exmouth's name.

Far, far and wide along the Italian shores
That holy joy extends;

Sardinian mothers pay their vows fulfilled;
And hymns are heard beside thy banks,

O Fountain Arethuse!

Churches shall blaze with lights, and ring with praise,
And deeper strains shall rise

From many an overflowing heart to Heaven;
Nor will they in their prayers forget

The arm that set them free.

R. S. 1814.

SONNET

To Lord Percy, on his motion for the gradual abolition of Slavery in the British West India Islands.

Percy, "of virtuous father virtuous son,"
(Thou too, like him, the friend of the forlorn)
Well hast thou done, and rightly didst advance,
From bondage to redeem a race unborn,
Abandon'd else to their inheritance

Of vice and misery :-rightly hast thou done,
And England turns an eye of hope on thee,
For this fair promise of thine opening morn.
In the good path which thou hast chosen, proceed!
Be ever thus the friend of liberty,

And Earth and Heaven will give thee both thy meed;
Yea, greener laurels will be thine in store,
Than thy heroic fathers won of yore

In Tiviotdale, and on the banks of Tweed.

R. S.

381

THE WARNING VOICE.

ODE I.

1.

Take up thy prophecy,

Thou dweller in the mountains, who hast nursed
Thy soul in solitude;

Holding communion with immortal minds,
Poets and Sages of the days of old,
And with the sacred food

Of meditation and of love divine
Hast fed thy heavenly part;
Take up thy monitory strain,
O son of song, a strain severe
Of warning and of woe!

2.

O Britain, O my Mother Isle,
Ocean's imperial Queen,

Thou glory of all lands!

Is there a curse upon thee, that thy sons
Would rush to ruin, drunk

With sin, and in infuriate folly blind?
Hath Hell enlarged itself,

And are the Fiends let loose

To work thine overthrow?

For who is she

3.

That, on the many headed beast

Triumphantly enthroned,

Did ride abroad in state,

The book of her Enchantments in her hand?

Her robes are stained with blood,

And on her brazen front

Is written BLASPHEMY,