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As o'er the heath, amid his steel-clad thanes,

The royal Duncan rode in martial pride; Where full to view, high-topp'd with glittering vanes,

Macbeth's strong towers o'erhung the mountain's side.

Ia dusky mantle wrapp'd, a grizzly form

Rush'd with a giant's stride across his way, And thus, while howld around the rising storm,

In hollow thund’ring accents pour’d dismay.

Stop, O king! thy destin'd course,
Furl thy standard, turn thy horse,
Death besets this onward track,
Come no further quickly back.

Hear'st thou not the raven's croak ?
See'st thou not the blasted oak?
Feel'st thou not the loaded sky?
Read thy danger, king, and fly.

Lo, yon castle banners glare
Bloody thro' the troubled air;
Lo, what spectres on the roof
Frowning bid thee stand aloof!

Murder, like an eagle waits
Perch'd above the gloomy gates,
Just in act to pounce


prey ; Come not near-away! away!

Let not plighted faith beguile
Honour's semblance, beauty's smile;
Fierce ambition's venom'd dart
Kankles in the fest'ring heart.

Treason arm:d against thy life,
Points his dagger, whets his knife ;
Drugs his stupifying bowl,
Steels his unrelenting soul.

Now 'tis time, 'ere guilty night
Closes round thee, speed thy flight;
If the threshold once be crost,
Duncan, thou’rt for ever lost.

On he goes !-resistless fate
Hastes to fill his mortal date;
Cease your warnings, vain, tho' true,
Murder'd king, adieu!-adieu !

Dr. Aikin, TO E. S*** D.

When shall I, my fair one, say,
Hear thee sing, and hear thee play-
When shall beauties such as thime
Grace this huinble spot ot' mine..
'Tis for thee that blooins the rose,
'Tis for thee the garden glows;
My pinks, and my carnations too,
For thee assume the gayest hue ;
'Tis for thee that flows.the stream,
Thou, my love's perpetual theme;
But when thou art froin iny sight,
Music fails to give delight.
All in vain the gardens grow,
All in vain the roses blow;
Pink nor carnation have their charms,
When thou art absent from my arms;
Nor, while the stream in murmurs flows,
Shall I enjoy an hour's repose ;
Till thou in pity to my care,
Shall bid me banish my despair,
And, with a voice of love, shall say
For Stephen will I sing and play
The winter's night and summer's day.

Nionthly Miscellany.


“ And still shall beauty's fairy charm, 66 Breathe o'er


soul it's wanton fires; “ Still passion wake the fond alarm

“ Of trembling hopes, of wild desires.

“ O fly! thou dear delusive dream,

“ O hence! ye scenes, to fancy dear; “ No more I'll muse the love-lorn theme,

“ No more I'll drop the pensive tear.

“ Free as the light-wing’d airs of May

“ That wanton kiss each rosy sweet, “ I'll laugh the moments wild away,

“ And court loose pleasure's glitering seat.

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“ The laugh, the song, and Bacchus' smile,

“ Shall give to joy the fleeting hour “ No more shall love, with secret guile,

“ Win a soft soul to beauty's power.”

Thus spoke the heart from passion free,

And wak'd my soul to fancied joy; . Hail once again lost liberty,

I dread no more th' idalian boy !

Ah me!-poor, weak, unguarded heart,

I feel return the sick'ning pain ; Yet, yet again the magic dart

Strikes with new force each throbbing vein.

And now again all sad, and slow

I wander thro' the moonlight grove, And strive to charm away my woe,

While echoes wild may lute of love.

“ Go gentle lute, with softest air

“ Breathe pity o'er my Delia's breast; Thy sound shall melt the passion’d fair, “ Her smile of love shall crown me blest.

“Go gentle lute, for Venus kind

“ Bids her wing*d boy thy music swell ; “ Then happier toa’d, breathe all my woes,

“ And all thy master's sorrows tell.

“ And sure the maid, whose tender eye

« Beams as the dewy star of eve, "Shall yield to love's soft harmony,

“And all my fondest vows believe.

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“ Come golden hours, to fancy dear,

“Come hours by love, and Delia blest; “ Then let me lose each idle fear,

“When folded to her snowy breast.

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