STANZAS. 'Tis sweet to be, nigh the darkling sea But sweeter still, the soft magic thrill, Hark! on the breeze, that sweeps the trees, On the distant tempest sighing. Sure if spirits weep, while in rosy sleep, Like their wail must be, on the moon-lit sea, But yet to those strings, perhaps there, sings, And tells its tale, to the passing gale, Sad solace from thence to borrow. Broken spirit sing, till old ocean ring, But if joy inspire, that angelic lyre, It accordeth well, with an angel's knell, And though to the strings, soft yon spirit sings, That shall send a peal, from high heaven to hell, Dublin. G. REFLECTIVE SENTENCES. FROM THE FRENCH OF M. LE VICOMTE D' ARLINCOURT, 39 66 AUTHOR OF THE RENEGADE,' IPSIBOE," &c. There is a great likeness between the unfeeling and cruel man; both are inhuman. A reconciliation is effected-a friendship is almost established-an alliance is closely formed between the man, whose hand dares every thing, and him whose heart fools nothing. Seek not in the soul of man for sacrifices and devotion,-for resignation and love; they are to be found only in woman's heart. Holy Piety, protecting guide to the pilgrims of this earthly vale, when thou deignest to enlighten man with thy pure and consoling ray, thou art a communication between the two worlds; thou gildest the chain of his days. Ye, who have been smitten by misfortune, if your life is reproachless, how many consolations are there for you in this fugitive life? The divine arbiter rewards, and eternity awaits you. Ye, who are sullied by crime, when adversity befalls you, have your souls one hope-is there one consolation for your misfortunes? The Sovereign Judge will punish, and eternity will also be your doom. Men are made, it is true, all of the same dull compound, but an immense interval separates the vulgar soul from the sublime inspirations of genius. Among men, a name changes nature: a mere word commands fate; rank precludes happiness; feeling is fettered by prerogative; and often a mere title alters the whole nature of man. When two tender, enthusiastic, and faithful hearts are tied by misfortune, the more they suffer, the more they love. The present is nothing to man; every thing tends to prove to him that he is formed for futurity. Trust in Providence, who will watch over you; and be not cast down by misfortune. In the spring of life there are no threatening aspects-no stormy skies-no dark shadows; misfortune even has its charms, and grief its smile. Man is then like a perfumed vase, which, receiving in its bosom a thousand different objects, scents them all, even the very poisons. |