Glittering in the morning beam-thy domes
Rising majestical-thy palaces
Fit habitations for Rome's mightiest God,
The cloud-compelling Jove.

But oh! he doth not see
Thy narrow alleys, and the wretchedness

Hidden by so much beauty." Carracci's contemplation of his daughter's loveliness is striking


Why now thou smilest, and thy ruby lips
Glow like the weeping Iris—and thy cheeks
Are deep carnationed like an evening sky,
When blushing vesper gaily trips along,

Scattering her odorous tribute.". Caracci, weary of power, yet dreading to lose it, not altogether destitute of virtue, yet too infirm to abjure vice, tries the fidelity of the assembled nobles, and finds them wavering; he then bursts out with a soliloquy on friendship; unquestionably misplaced in the lips of a traitor, but expressed with vigour and eloquence.

“ Worldly friendship!
Fie, 'tis a bauble wherewithal to please
The eye of childishness, for wise men laugh
The word to ridicule. 'Tis a bubble
That shineth for a moment, and then bursts,
Bursting for very emptiness. A name
Written on sand, which one small wave wipes out
As though it ne'er had been. The aspic lurks
Beneath the blushing rose.

Beneath the smile
Sweet as e'er lit the lips of angel-lies
A leprous soul."

Francis is a friar, and according to dramatic custom, the custom of all dramatists but Shakspeare, is a consummate rogue, hypocrite, voluptuary, and, to judge from the result of all his contrivance, a fool of no slight magnitude. After having perverted the father, he makes love to the daughter, and thus ex1 pounds his passion to himself.

"Aye blue-eyed Isabel
I love thee with as hot a flame as would
Scorch up Faenza's freezing heart---
I'll to her, and so use love's sorceries
As even to charm the circumambient air.

And sigh forth the while
Prayers, soft entreaties, adjurations
And praise the glances of her melting eye,
And Iaud the vermeil of her downy cheek,
And count the beauties of her lips."

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The poet's object is to make the friar an abhorence through the whole play, and he has amply succeeded. But Isabel has other thoughts, and is dreaming of her lover Leontine, who had left her to attend the pilgrim duke. She sits in a balcony, sighs to the moon, and pines to her lover in these very poetic and lover-like strains.

“ Still evening most solicitously doth
Husband the last faint glimmerings of day
Even as some sweet and blooming girl, detaining
The lingering footsteps of her youthful love
Lest her fond heart be left as desolate
As thine lorn Isabel.

Come sable night
Covered with thy star be-spangled veil :
And thou chaste huntress of wild Erymanth;
Dian of the pearly bow and silver shafts,
Come from thy flowery haunts in Arcady,
(Where thy rose kirtled nymphs, who feel thy beams
Mantling upon their joy empurpled cheeks,

paid sweet reverence to the beauteous queen,)
And flood the heavens with light."

LEONTINE enters.

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Aye, there she sits,-the same bright beaming eyes,
(Love might his torch enkindle with their fire !)

The same hand
That I have pressed so often to my

Vowing eternal truth and constancy;
The self same lips, whose soft and gentle words,
Sweet as the honey dew, have often steeped
My soul in transports.

Let me gaze

Awhile here unobserved.
Those lips the roving bee would gladly take
For the coy bud all blushing to be kist
By rudely-amorous Zephyr.
The incense fuming from the Indian Isles
Laved by the purple ocean, is outvied
By the soft breath that wantons on those lips.

Sweet! do thy thoughts now wander on the knight
Who long hath battled against Paynim hosts
In sun bright Palestine ; or do they rove
On some more fortunate lover who hath urged
His suit in the soldier's absence."

Leontine at last makes his way to his lady love, but his minstrel disguise postpones the discovery, and indulges him with her confession. She asks, if among the band attendant on the duke, he had known Leontine. He replies,

“ I come to tell thee of his love!
For oft when by our watch-fires we have sat,
And fancy, with light minstrel fingers ran
On memory's softest chord, hath Leontine
Told me of all his joys, his hopes, and fears,
And constancy for his Italian maid.

When clad in proof of harness, he hath led
Onward to victory-or when others sang
Gay madrigals unto th' enraptured stars,
He hath been thinking of his lady-love.

Look to the moon
That, like a soft and silken curtained girl
Lies on that feathery cloud in beauty's charms,
And that same twinkling star thou dost behold
Is like an eastern spy set there to watch
Lest even the wind should kiss her vermeill’d cheek,
Like that same star hath he, all Argus-eyed,
Intensely gazed upon that beaming moon.

“ How often
Hath he not looked upon that beaming moon,
And wished by magic skill he could indite
Love's truest characters, that none might see
But she for whom those characters were written."

“By all his anxious moments, sufferings,
The vows of faith, his honour, hopes and fears,
By those vermilion lips and lustrous eyes
Which are to him as load-stars-he will come."

Caracci gives a feast, at which Leontine and the Duke are present in disguise. The minstrels sing.

“ Why smile the fields of Italy

And laugh her purple hills ;

And sportful plays the wanton sun

Upon her thousand rills.
Why mirthful rove her blue-eyed maids

Along her trellised bowers,
With dimpled cheeks as blushing deep

As Italy's own bowers.
Young love hath formed with azure wings

These bowers where beauty roves ;

has sped with silver feet
Through her soft whispering groves."

Amaryllo and Cynthia, old friends, recognise each other after long discourse, and their language is mutually combustible. To Cynthia's question of her lover's constancy, he answers, that he will be


“ Constant as the bird
That tells its passion to the moonlit
In ravishing strains of melody! I'll be
The veriest miser of thee-keep thee from
Th' enamoured

gaze of day, lest even the wind
Too rudely kiss thee.”

“ Cynthia.

“ Is the shrine,
The distant shrine, all welcome to the pilgrim,
When o'er the wilderness he plods his way,
To kiss the spot, and ease his labouring soul.
Even thus is Amaryllo unto me

For I'm the weary pilgrim.” Of these extracts, but one opinion can be formed, and that is an acknowledgment of their richness, sweetness, and poetic feeling. The writer, who can go thus far, can go further, and it will be the fault either of his indolence, or of his diffidence, if he should not attain poetic distinction. But it is equally true, that the present poem contains obvious errors. The plot must be abandoned as indefensible, if it was the author's purpose to make it empassioned; for it has no material of passion; the characters are but imperfectly brought out, are naked of all individual traits, and might with more propriety have been

simply designated as the usurper, the lover, the exile, &c. The versification is frequently incomplete, sometimes through defect of the common number of syllables, and still oftener through superfluity. Too much is said about Dian, and her nymphs, and her bow; and the author must learn to lean not quite so confidently on the broken reed of an exhausted mythology. But

these are trivial errors ; and altogether inadequate to extinguish the general merit of the poetry.

The poem is accompanied by a large train of notes on the middle ages and other things, valuable for the purpose of showing industry, but beyond all hope of being read as matter of indulgence. Some very pretty minor poems follow. The author fights under false colours, and calls himself by the crusading style and title of Randolph Fitz-Eustace. In the commodity of good names, he has chosen romantically enough. We will not unclasp his helmet and develope him.

Jahn's Biblical Archæology, translated from the Latin, with Additions

and Corrections. By Thomas C. UPHAM, A.M. Assistant Teacher of Hebrew and Greek in the Theol. Sem. Andover. 8vo. Pp. 548. Andover, (Massachusetts.) Flagg and Gould. 1823.

The subject of Biblical Antiquities is one of prominent importance to the student in Theology. If, in order to enter fully into the meaning, or correctly to apprehend the beauties of the ancient classics, it be necessary to be acquainted with the institutions of the Greeks and Romans, how much greater dif ficulties must be interposed in his way, who attempts to interpret the Scriptures without a competent knowledge of these topics! For, as the customs and manners of the Oriental people are widely different from those of the Western nations; as, further, their sacred rites differ most essentially from every thing with which we are acquainted ; and as the Jews, in particular, in consequence of the simplicity of the Hebrew language, have drawn very numerous metaphors from the works of nature, from the ordinary occupations and arts of life, from their religion, and from things connected with it, as well as from their national history; there are many things recorded, both in the Old and New Testament, which must appear to Europeans either unintelligible or repulsive. “ It is not, till we are able in imagination to place ourselves by the banks of Jordan, or on the plains and deserts, where the Hebrew shepherds wandered ; till we can summon around us the cedar-crowned hills, where warriors fought and poets sang, with the circumstances of dress and manners and employments and feelings; it is not until we have some understanding of these things, that we are in a situation to follow the story of those warriors, or to be enrap

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