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POETRY-a

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POETRY- a LINES WRITTEN IN THE ALBUM OF MARY STUART. O'er mirror, and o'er polished steel, S-vift hies the breath, which each is prompt to feci j ,i.13 v>*)";7e NO care has kept the surface bright laat things unseemly settle where they light. Laav of royal name and regal brow Had MA[; Y Smart been as >»ood as thou, l'ie slander breathed on her had left no stain, ALd rcahce had assailed her fame in vain. J, s ON AN INFANT. Child of a iay-tboii knowest not The tears that overflow thy urn, The gushing eyes tli,it read thy lot, Nor if thou knowest, could'st return. And vv:iy the wish? the pure, the blest, Watch like thy mother o'er thy sleep; Ohpeaceiul night; oh envied rest! Tholl wilt not ever see her weep. LANDER. \VB \T IS RELIGION?" riss Judith Cowper, (aunt to the poet), aged 17, being in company with a Quaker when the above question was asked, answered it in a quiet manner. The Quaker turned to her contemptuously, and exclaimed, Child, what dost thoa know of religion?" Miss Cowper imme- diately retired, and in a few minutes presented him with the lolloping verses:— Religion is a generous, lively flame,, That brightens, not deforms, the human frame; In the close covert of the heart it lie-, B'Ooms there—not sternly threatens in the eyes; A.i unaffected ease its actions grace, Kriown by the motions of the soul and face 2 No sour constraint, no forced concern it wears, No bidden si<;hs, no ostentatious tears; No self-applauding shrugs, no censare, strife, KM spleen at aU the blameless joys of life As wide from these are virtue's native charms; As settled peace and war's confused alarms; As solid Reason's calm considerate train, And the wild frenzies of a feverish brain. By the same, on hearing her Father abused after his death. And lives there one, by cankered malice led, i arraign the innocent defenceless dead ? WiH SP1nt!ersavage, through the wood Y„T': L,°U\ 'ie roars> adust, and dry for blood, tjT, V cnance where death, with friendly care, f.s just relieved some painful traveller, i r0ugh compassion sternly stalks away, scorns to tear the unresisting prey. 07' The fJ!lon'ín:¡ lines are from a Poem entitled anhff Castle," written and published by 1 a' ie"'» Williams, ( A b lolo.) The muse, with retrospective eye, I Thus long has dwelt on chiefs gone by; Retraced the proud oppressor's ways. And moralized on evil days tnveil'd the past, and brought to view Dread Thraldom's course of deepest hue: Still much must rest in kindred gloom, >Till, cited from the dreary tomb, And, placed in light, at Heaven's behest, Appear th'oppressor and th' opprest: To meet the doom. at the great day. Of Him who surely will repay. Hail, happier age no despot brow Demands the feudal homajje now, W ithin those castle walls: The days of vassalage are o'er, There bondage clanks the chain no more, No Warder bolts the prison door, No cruel chief enthrals. Filzhamon's race have pass'd away, And Cardiff's ancient towers obey The high-born Stuart's generous sway. In him tair Honor's graces shine, The S'.uart of the mighty line; A line renown'd for ages long, An ancient line whence Kings have sprang, i o grace a regal throne. Long be their course, from age to age. aeir praise the theme of Bard and Sage, For virtues all their own.

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