His hands upraised, he cries, in raptured rage, IX. "Belshazzar! Son of the morning, How art thou fall'n ! From thy bright path above, resplendently burning, Thy branches all blooming, thy garden perfuming, Babylon weeps o'er her portion of sorrow, X. "O king! I see the day of visitation, The lonely sound that lingers in these walls; The spider's web hangs on thy panoply; Where glitter'd thy palaces-vaunted thy walls, XI. "The earth is at rest, and breaks forth into singing, A wild bird untrammell'd to liberty springing. The cedars of Lebanon lift up their voice, And, waving their hundred arms, o'er thee rejoice. The harp, and the tabret, and young maiden throng. XII. "Thou-king of terrors! lord of death and doom! Where shalt thou fly, from the curse of thy gloom? The bright lights of heaven are quench'd on thy path, Its angels anoint thee with vials of wrath! Earth trembles beneath thee, heaven totters on high, Who didst scatter, like dust, the throne of the earth?' Go-King of Babel-this night is thy last, Thy kingdom is weighed, found wanting, and past.” THE VOICE OF THE PEOPLE. From the German of Schiller. (FROM THE SALE-ROOM.) In ancient times, when Genoa had rebell'd, Who, as he will'd, their factious spirit led, On their new state assembled to decide:- "Weary with anarchy and civil broils, And sadly living on each others spoils, In desperate hope to be protected, A Bull-Dog for their Sovereign they elected. The animals, collected then like you, To mould their government anew, Of the three forms presented to their choice, For which do you suppose they gave their voice?""O for the popular!" at once they cried. "You're in the right of it," replied Fiesco; "a democracy they chose; And on whate'er their rulers should propose, "It chanced that Man Against their infant state a war began. - Goats, Pigeons, Sheep, and all the reptile race, What would you in this crisis have decreed ?" ་ Why, that the best," they cry," should take the lead." "Just what they did-an aristocracy A Stag to lead their armies went; All was oppression, plunder, weakness, wrong; DIRGE OF A HIGHLAND CHIEF, EXECUTED AFTER THE REBELLION. A literary friend of ours received these verses, with a letter of the following tenor: "A very ingenious young friend of mine has just sent me the enclosed on reading Waverley. To you, the world gives that charming work; and if in any future edition you should like to insert the Dirge to the Highland Chief, you would do honour to "Your sincere Admirer." The individual to whom this obliging letter was addressed, having no claim to the honour which is there done him, does not possess the means of publishing the verses in the popular novel alluded to. But, that the public may sustain no loss, and that the ingenious author of Waverley may be aware of the honour intended him, our correspondent has ventured to send the verses to our Register. Oh, had'st thou slumber'd with the slain, We then had mourn'd thee not! But darkly closed thy morn of fame, O'er thy own bowers the sunshine falls, Spring on thy mountains laughs the while, On thy blue hills no bugle sound Thy gates are closed, thy halls are still, Thy bard his pealing harp has broke, No other theme to him was dear, Than lofty deeds of thine; Hush'd be the strain thou can'st not hear, VOL. VIII. PART II. r THE SEARCH AFTER HAPPINESS; OR, THE QUEST OF SULTAUN SOLIMAUN. From the Sale-Room. I. O, FOR a glance of that gay Muse's eye, Given by the natives of that land canorous; We Britons have the fear of shame before us, II. In the far eastern clime, no great while since, Keep up the jest and mingle in the lay Such Monarchs best our free-born humours suit, But Despots must be stately, stern, and mute. The hint of the following tale is taken from La Camiscia Magica, a novel of Giam Battista Casti. |