THE GHOST OF POMPEY.

FROM perfect and unclouded day, From joys complete, without allay, And from a spring, without decay,

I come, by Cynthias' borrow'd beams,
To visit my Cornelia's dreams,
And give them still sublimer themes.

3

I am the man you lov'd before
These streams have wash'd away my gore,
And POMPEY, now, shall bleed no more;

Nor shall my vengeance be withstood, Nor unattended with a flood

Of Roman, and Egyptian blood.

CASAR himself it shall pursue;
His days shall troubled be, and few,
And he shall fall..,by treason too.

He, by a justice all divine,
Shall fall a victim at my shrine,
As I was his...he shall be mine,

Thy stormy life regret no more,
For fate shall waft thee soon ashore,
And to thy POMPEY thee restore,

When guilty heads no crown shall wear,
Nor my CORNELIA drop a tear,
Nor CESAR be dictator there.

Tout Femme resemble a la chaste Diane,
Approuvant en secret, dit on,
Ce qu'en public elle condamne;
a bisarre vertu sur le pauvre Acteon,
Se venge d'un regard profane,
Et vaseduire Endymion.

N.B. A translation not requested.

divine Amitie! ce tems qui nous outrage, Loin de briser tes nœuds, les serre chaque jour,

AC227

These lines were written, many years ago, by a Mr. Ballantyne, of Glasgow, and are now remembered, not So much perhaps for their intrinsic merit, as by their having been linked to early and sweet associations. The ideas seem better than the execution, contrary to most of our poetasters, whose workmanship far ex sels the materials. It was set to the tune

of Prior's, "In vain you tell your parting lover." It was sung, or rather recited, by the writer in a deep sepulchral voice. Several of the lines still come over the ear, in grand and sweeping tone; and the whole awakens in the mind classical recollections.

That I must part with my delight, I cannot scold and sleep.

However this does mitigate,

And much abate my sorrow, That tho' to-night it be too late, I'll early scold to-morrow.

TO MISS, WITH SOME FLOWERS.

WE'RE dying lady, take us to thy breast, Catch our last breath, and make our parting blest,

Blest as expiring saints to whom 'tis given, On earth to die, but to revive in heaven.

T.

This is a flower of Pelian poetry, which, in general, has not agreed well with this climate, but in some hands, by careful cul tivation, has come to a considerable degree of perfection, of which the following are some of the best specimens I could find. Yours, &c.

T.

DIRECTIONS FOR A TEA-VASE. (SAID TO BE WRITTEN BY DR. DARWIN.) FRIEND Bolton, take these ingots fine, From rich Potosi's sparkling mine; With your nice art, a tea-vase mould, Your art more valued than the gold; And where proud Radbourne's turrets rise, To bright Eliza send the prize. I'll have no serpents round it hiss The foaming wave, and seem to kiss. No naiads weep no sphinxes stare, No tail-hung dolphins high in air. Let wreaths of myrtle round the rim, And twisting rose-buds form the brim, Each side let wood-bine stalks descend, And form the handles as they bend. While, at the foot, a Cupid stands, And twines the wreaths with both his hands. Perch'd, on the rising lid above, Oh, place a love-lorn turtle-dove, With hanging wings, and ruffled plume, And gasping beak, and eye of gloom. Last, let the swelling basis shine, With silver white, and burnish fine, Bright as the font whose banks beside, Narcissus gaz'd, and lov'd, and died."

Vase! when Eliza deigns to pour,
With snow-white hand, the boiling show'r
And sweetly talks, and smiles, and sips,
Thy fragrant stream, with ruby lips,
More charms thy polish'd front shall shew,

Than ever Titian's pencil drew,
More than his chisel soft unfurl'd,
Whose heaven-wrought statue charms the
world.

To the Editor of the Belfast Magazine.

SIR,

I send you a bouquet of Sonnets for insertion in your next months Magazine.

A chronicle of actions, just and bright! There all thy deeds, my faithful Mary, shiae,

And since thou own'st that praise, I spare thee mine.

COWPER.

This appears written "con-amore," we may add, "divino."

SIXTH.

Is it to love, to fix the tender gaze,

To hide the timid blush, and steal away, To shun the busy world, and waste the day,

In some rude mountain's solitary maze?
Is it to chaunt one name, in ceaseless lays,

To hear no words, that other tongues
can say,

To watch the pale moon's melancholy ray,

To chide in fondness, and in folly praise? Is it to pour th' involuntary sigh,

To dream of bliss, and wake, new pangs to prove;

To talk in fancy with the speaking eye, Then start with jealousy, and idly rove,

Is it to loath the light, and wish to die? For these I feel, and feel that they are...

LOVE.

slitting the quill lengthways, by a proper instrument, into two or more equal parts, according to its thick ness, cutting each part transversely into two, or more equal lengths, (according to the length of the barrel of the quil) and then making pens at each end of the pieces of quill so divided, which when want ed for use, are each to be attached to a small round stick tapered a little at the end, by a socket, or cylindrical ring, made either of the barrel of a quill, silver or other metal. Each of these pieces having two pens formed on it, one on each and, when one is worn by writing, the other may be brought into use by withdrawing the stick, turning the unused end downwards, and again attaching it to the stick by the socket.

This cutting part is formed of two pieces of steel, of three eighths of an inch scantling, by two eighths, with a thin piece of steel, about the thickness of a watch spring, between them to form the slit; the two side pieces, are ground so at their ends, that their edges form an angle, such as it desired for the nib of the pen, and the slitting part in the middle has a quite straight edge. These are fixed together in a frame by a screw, so managed as to either fasten them or release them occasionally, and the whole is connected to the slider of a small fly-press, such as is commonly used for cutting and stamping: and then beneath the cutting point of the instrument, a piece of hard wood or metal is placed, either convex or concave, to receive the half or the segment of a quill, either with the concave or convex side uppermost, as may be found best. This bed for receiving the quill to be cut into a pen, is countershaped exactly to correspond with the end of the cutting instrument, by a cutting stroke, made by the instrument itself, so that there cannot be any error in their contact when in use, which will prevent a ragged cut from being made upon the quil!,

This bed is held in its place by being driven tight into a horizontal groove in the bed of the cutting press, so that when the contact with the cutting tool shall become inperfect by use, a small blow with a hammer, or the operation of a regulating screw, shall amend this defect. And by this means, added to the the ready manner in which the pieces of steel, that form the cutter, may be taken out of the frame and sharpened, the engine can be continually kept in a state of perfection with little trouble.

The patentee states that in this manner, he can make of the smallest sized quill, eight complete pens, out of others twelve, and from that to thirty, (and from swans quills even more,) for small hand, drawing and other purposes, equal in durability and goodness to those made of whole quills.

It is obvious that as many classes of pens may be made in this manner, as a quill can be divided into equal parts. The first class of these in which a pen is made at each end of the barrel of a quill cut off from its top, are called by the patentee double compound pens; and the second class, formed of quills slit in two lengthways, are called treble compound pens.

The patentee next describes a new instrument for making pens expeditiously, of which the cutting part is formed so as to resemble what is called a parting tool for carving and engraving wood, with a fine sharp edge projecting in the middle of its angle internally to form the slit of the pen.

The pens are not to be nibbed by the machine, but when the parts