Till, heaven-directed, Rome's victorious band
Marked hostile footsteps upon Britons' sand:
Unwelcome benefactors to a race

Rude as the wilderness, their dwelling-place.
The deepest gloom of superstition's night-
The rough-hewn temple, and the bloody rite-
The scythe-armed chariot set with murderous st
The painted body and the acorn meal—
To them no evils, as they felt them none,
Were worth preserving, since they were their o
But courage fell before the Roman sword,
And Cæsar reigned, their not unworthy lord.

Transient and few their efforts to regain
Through twice two hundred years, their native
Sometime Caractacus to battle led-

Thousands for injured Boadicea bled.
But Rome had left no spot in Europe free,
And vanquished Britain shared its destiny;
Till, ruined by success, the victor state,
All things possessing, felt herself too great;
And rendered back, without a price, the boon
So long disputed, and so hardly won.
Alas, for Britain! nursed in slavery,

Till she had grown too feeble to be free,

Bowed with the burden of the crown she wore,
She bade a second master to her shore:

Armed with his cowl, his crosier, and his beads;
His pious embassy was news from heaven
Of mortal sins for Jesus' sake forgiven.
The eve of Christianity's first day

Was glimmering yet with Truth's declining ray-
Heaven prospering the news the missions bring,
England's first monarch was a Christian king.

But peace was not for Britain. From the shore
Of the near Baltic, warlike numbers pour;
Succeeding Ethelwolf is vainly brave—
Vile Ethelbald is early for the grave-
Beneath the rule of hapless Ethelred,
The Dane was victor, and our country bled.
A single star of transitory light,

Rose upon England's long and fearful night-
Alfred, the brave, the generous, and the wise,
The loved of earth, and favoured of the skies;
Erst England's king, and now a menial low,
A minstrel next disguised amid the foe,
Gave peace to Britain, and bequeathed to fame
Without a stain the record of his name,
Edward to him, then Ethelstan succeeds.
Struck by a robber pious Edmund bleeds.
Despotic Dunstan shared king Edred's state.
What heart so hard, but feels for Edwy's fate?

1

Long since forgot the wounds of Saxon swords
The victors had become her native lords:
Short the succession-sad their years, and few-
She was but free to be subdued anew.

And shall we hail the unjust, rapacious hand
That fixed the foreign standard on our land,
Beneath whose kindly influence has grown
The bliss our grateful country feels her own?
Unworthy hands may heaven's best blessings br
Britannia groaned beneath her tyrant king,
Imperious William, now, by conquest won,
Become possessor of the British crown:
He held an iron sceptre, and maintained,
As conquerors do, the lawless power he gained
In life and death, the fate of tyrants proved-
Feared and betrayed-obeyed, but unbeloved.
When hard oppression bowed his subjects low,
His offspring proved him a less injured foe.
He found a foreign grave, and left his crown
To Rufus, his despised, unworthy son.

His father's crimes, without his glory, stain The record of the second William's reign. Then first, to shake the unbeliever's power, Europe assembled upon Asia's shorePrinces forsook their thrones-the sovereign lo Bartered his whole possession for a sword

"

The patriot forgot his country's need,
In pious care, that Judah should be freed-
Thousands, who heeded not their Maker's laws.
Shed their last blood in this his fancied cause-
And many a bosom, deeply seared with guilt,
Sought expiation where the blood was spilt;
But not from him who shed it. Human pride
Revered the tomb, the risen God denied ;
While some with honest, but misjudging zeal,
Forgot that Christ forbade the murderous steel,
No other arms became their hands to prove,
But meek submission, gentleness, and love.
But while preparing arms through Europe ring-
War has no charms for England's abject king:
In the more harmless, but less glorious chace,
The savage monarch chose his fitter place:
And there, in sylvan wars ignobly brave,
He early found a well-becoming grave.
(To be continued.)

THE LISTENER.-No. I.

THE office of Listener is not one of very honourable note, especially when determined to tell what he hears: but to deprecate the wrath of my readers against so treacherous an intermeddler with their studies and their sports, I intreat them to consider that good may be wrought of that with which we usually work evil. If I have the misfortune to have no business of my own, and a particular talent for observing other people's-if my sight is so keen, and my hearing so acute, as to perceive what is passing where I am not present, to see through the roof and to hear through the walls-what can I do but endeavour to make the best use of so dangerous an endowment, and employ it for the benefit of others? 1 whisper no idle tale in gossips' ears-I write no satires upon innocent mistakes-no dry lectures upon well-known evils; but I bear about with me as it were a reflecting glass, which I present to the actors in the scenes before

me, that seeing in it what is, they may haply discover what better might be. I may sometimes listen and sometimes dream, and sometimes be forced to perform my task without the benefit of either; but however it be, I hope my young friends will accept my monthly communication without being too curious as to how I came by my information, granting me always the privilege of hearing and over-hearing whatever I think proper.

It was one of those still Autumn nights, when the silence of nature bears rather the character of death than of repose-when the ear, listening in vain for so much as the falling of a withered leaf, a momentary sensation steals upon the mind that we only are remaining in existence, while all is extinct beside. There was not so much as a ripple to break the moonbeam that was sleeping on the water, a still, pale streak of unvarying brightness. A few dark sails hung motionless upon the surface, soliciting the breeze in vain; but most, in despair of further progress, had dropped the anchor and betaken themselves to the hold, whence a gleam of light now and then glanced upon the water to give the only token of existence. The moon hung in solitary splendour midway in the heavens, and the outline of every object was as distinctly traced as in the full light of day; seeming to gain magnitude and sublimity by the loss of its varied colouring. The cliff appeared to have grown to immeasurable height, the woods to impenetrable thickness. There was not in all the heavens a cloud, nor on all the earth a vapour. Thoughts of lightness and folly can find no welcome in the mind at such an hour as this. That Being with whom we seem to be left alone in the universe, becomes more sensibly the guardian of our path. When removed from all other observation, we grow more conscious of his presence; and the sensation is powerful, though mistaken, that persuades us He can more distinctly mark our feelings in the solitude of night thàn amid the noise and bustle of the day.