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And there are the poison'd (10), who stand,

With countenance livid and pale;
Each ghost has the flagon of death in his hand,

And tauntingly drinks thee,-“ All hail !"
They crowd thee by myriads, they point to the clay,
And sullenly beckon thy spirit away.
Away! thou dark spirit, away!

Away! to the land of the dead;
Impatient they wait thee, no longer delay,

Their frown is grown deeper with shade.
They bring thee a convoy, to bear

Thee far to thy destin'd abode;
Farewell! thou dark spirit--what hope, or what prayer,

Illumines the desolate road?

eye is turn'd dim-it is glaz’d with a tear,
And a sigh seals for ever his matchless career.
The willow weeps over his tomb;

A streamlet is wandering by;
The flowers to his ashes shall lend their perfume,

Till, like him, they wither and die.
The cannon has sounded his knell-

A stone is placed over his breast;
His bones are laid down in a beautiful dell;

There, there, let him slumber and rest:
And millions shall traverse the watery wave,
To look on the spot of the warrior's grave!

July, 1821.


Note (1.)
Alluding to his passage over the Alps, into Italy, an achievement thought to
be impossible, since the days of Hannibal, until actually accomplished by
Napoleon, with astonishing conduct and success.

Note (2.)
Buonaparte assumed the title of “ King of the Romans.”

Note (3.) At Thebes, in ancient Egypt, was a statue of Memnon, with a harp in his hand, which is said to have hailed with cheerful notes the beams of the rising sun; and in melancholy tones to have mourned his departure. This statue was thrown down, during the conflicts between the French and English armies; and recent travellers assert; (with how much reason or veracity, is not for me to determine,) that the mysterious sound still continues to issue from the pedestal upon which it stood, both at morning and in the evening.

Note (4.) The army which Buonaparte carried to Egypt was the same with which he threatened to invade England; but which, after many unsuccessful engagements, was obliged to surrender to an enemy it affected to despise, while it exceeded 30,000 men in number.

Note (5.) At the celebrated siege of Acre, Napoleon was disappointed in no less than eleven attempts to carry the place by assault ; and, after losing half his army, and the flower of his officers, was obliged to retire in disgrace. One of the attacks was made during a truce, agreed upon for the purpose of burying the dead. The place, it is well known, was defended by Sir Sidney Smith.

Note (6.) Now a lake, in Italy; formerly the river of Hell, said to have been formed for the purpose of assisting the Titans, who fought against Jupiter; and the same over which Charon is fabled to have ferried the souls of the departed into eternity.

Note (7.) “ Before the battle of the bridge of Lodi," said Buonaparte, I fought for my honour, but there I fouybit for my life.”

Note (8.) The battles of Austerlitz, Marengo, Jena, and Wagram, stand amongst the most wonderful military achievements of modern times.

Note (9.) Moscow.

Note (10.) The charge brought against Buonaparte, of poisoning the sick and wounded, at Jaffa, (whatever may bave been his motive,) has never yet been satisfactorily rebutted.




O How can I


with delight,
On a scene of such horror as this?
Can murder and bloodshed be fair to the sight,

Or awaken emotions of bliss ? -
Can genius enchant'me so much,

As to make me forget I am man?
Can it deaden my bosom to sympathy's touch;

0, curse on its charms ! if it can.
O, curse on such charms—I would spurn their control,
And debar them for ever access to my soul.
Nay, tell me not 'valour is proud

To gaze on the vision of fear -
To point to some spot mid the murderous crowd,

And, exulting, exclaim-" I was there!".

Let valour, encas'd in its pride,

Unshrinking the carnage survey
Far other emotions, and nearer allied

To virtue, my bosom shall sway.
Soft pity shall call up the tear to my eye,
As the pageant of horror and death passes by.
See, see, how the squadrons advance!

At their meeting what fury they breathe!
Each musket is pois'd, and uplifted each lance-

Each sword has deserted its sheath.
O horror! they mingle-they close-

And thousands lie stretch'd on the plain!
The harvest of death-how tremendous it grows !

Spare, spare me,-it fires thro' my brain.
O God, that the earth should have witness'd a sight,
From which hell itself might shrink back with affright!
The honour'd, the noble, the young,

The lov'd, the lamented, are down-
The palace, the cottage, with anguish have rung,

The hopes they encircled are flown.
Weep, mothers-weep, widows-and weep,

Fond sisters, this sorrowful day;
Sons, husbands, and brothers, for ever must sleep,

Far, far from their country away.
O bitterly, bitterly, long must ye mourn-
Ye watch—but, alas! they will never return.
Ah! mark what impatience there beams

On the face of that youth, as he calls
“ To the onset!”-of conquest, of glory, he dreams-

One step,—but one step,—and he falls !
The tumult of war hurries on,

Deserted and helpless he lies;
Not one to assist, or bemoan him-not one!

He groans; his brain maddens; he dies !
How ghastly the features ! but now lighted up
With the warm glow of health, and the radiance of hope.
And see, yon dark plumes, how they float!

When the flag of revenge is uprear'd; The chief of an ill-fated house they denote

Young Brunswick !- the omen he heard, As he stood mid the lovely and brave

His ear caught the sound of alarm!
Ah! prince! 'twas the summons to this bloody grave!

No wonder the dance could not charm;
No wonder the strains fell unheeded on thee,

Which fill'd the gay revellers round with such glee.
VOL. IV.-N0.7.


But veil it! ah! veil the sad scene!

Close, close, the long detail of woe!
Did no pause of mercy at length intervene?

Did blood thus unceasingly flow?
O show me no pictures of war,

They call up no joys in my breast;
Such joys from my bosom be banish'd afar,

Be the feelings they cherish repress'd!
I hate them-0 when shall war's miseries cease,
And its sword be exchang'd for the ploughshare of peace?
True, true! 'tis a splendid display,

And demands the applause of the eye;
But the pomp, and the glitter, and martial array-

Can I look on them all, nor a sigh
Be heav'd, that such tinsel should hide

The features of war from the view ?
O might reason at length draw the curtain aside,

And exhibit their horrible hue !
Were they stripp'd of adornment, and shown unattir'd,
Who then with the glories of war would be fir’d?
And the music, whose soul.stirring strain

Falls so sweet on the listener's ear;
Even music might lend its allurements in vain,

Were they mix'd with those accents of fear,
Which rose with those notes, when they woke

The echoes of Waterloo's field;
No heart but one harder than Britain's own oak

Could hear the dread harmony peal'd-
Or fancy it heard it, mid sounds such as those,
And a moment with joy on such music repose.
Then, how can I gaze with delight,

On a scene of such horror as this?
Can murder, and bloodshed be fair to the sight,

Or awaken emotions of bliss ?
Can genius enchant me so much,

As to make me forget I am man?
Can it deaden my bosom to sympathy's touch?

O curse on its charms if it can!
O curse on such charms! I would


their control, And debar them for ever access to my soul.



Interesting Narrative of a Voyage to Pulo-Penang, or Prince of Wales's Island. - The following narrative (taken almost verbatim from Captain Lockerby, of the ship Lindsays, now in the port of Liverpool) will be found highly interesting, not only to the merchant, but to the general reader: to the former, as it explains the voyage which the ship made to the Malay Islands, without infringement of the charter of the East India Company ; to the latter, as it details some particulars of the fine island of Singapore, where a thriving settlement has recently been made by Sir T. S. Raffles. It contains also some interesting accounts relative to the burial-place of the ExEmperor Napoleon.

Captain Lockerby sailed in the Lindsays from London in May, 1820, with a full cargo of British goods, for Gibraltar. Without discharging, be proceeded to Madeira, thence to Buenos Ayres; and then to PuloPenang, in the Straits of Malaca. There he discharged part of his cargo, and sailed to the new settlement of Singapore, which was established about three years ago by Sir T. Stamford Raffles. Here he remained for three weeks'; discharged the whole of his outward cargo, and purchased sugar of an excellent quality, brought from the Gulf of Siam by Chinese junks. Singapore is a beautiful island in the straits of that name, in the entrance of the Chinese sea, and a few leagues from the southern extremity of Asia. Singapore (the capital) is divided into three separate towns; namely, Malaytown, containing about 10,000 Malay inhabitants; Chinese-town, about 7000 Chinese; and English-town, which yet contains but few Europeans, among whom are about five respectable English merchants. English-town is laid out in beautiful squares, and spacious streets crossing each other at right angles; and is agreeably decorated with trees. The site of the mansion of the resident Governor is on a rising ground behind the town, and commands an extensive and delightful view of the whole of the straits, and of the numerous and beautiful islands that surround the new settlement. Colonel Farquhar (formerly Governor of Malaca) is Governor here; a gentleman well calculated for the office, from his experimental knowledge of the manners and character of the Malays*; who, it may be here remarked, appear to be partial to the British government, and inimical to the Dutch. The climate of Singapore, although warm, is extremely salubrious; and appears to be so little subject to the diseases so fatal to Europeans in most tropical climates, that only two of these had died, since the formation of the settlement, a period of three years. The markets are well supplied with fish and poultry; and dried and salted provisions are plentifully imported in the Chinese junks from Siam. Tropical fruits and roots are also abundant. The trade of the island is very considerable, and is fast increasing. During the last year, it had been triple that of Prince of Wales's Island. Captain Lockerby is of opinion, that, from its advantageous situation and excellent harbour, it will eventually draw the trade from that island entirely. There is also a considerable trade with Batavia. The intercourse, through means of Chinese junks, is immense. During Captain Lockerby's stay, upwards of twenty of these vessels, of from two to three hundred tons burthen, loaded with sugar (great quantities of which are sent to Batavia) arrived daily. Sugar is generally sold at half a dollar less per picul than at Pulo-Penang.

* It is not perhaps generally known that these people are by no means immersed in savage barbarity. Their language is established; they are possessed of books and writings, and pride themselves in tracing their origin from record and tradition, back to a remote period of 4000 years. The papers in our fifth and present Numbers, communicated by the individual here so honourably mentioned, throw considerable light on the character of this singular people ; as do those furnished by sir Alexander Johnson, in the fifth and sixth, on their antiquity.

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