By this, with flowers the rosy-finger'd dawn Had spread each dewy hill and verdurous lawn;— She waked; and saw a new built tomb, that stood In the dark bosom of a solemn wood, [vade,While these sad sounds her trembling ears in'Beneath yon marble sleeps thy father's shade.' She sigh'd, she wept, she struck her pensive breast, And bade his urn in peaceful slumber rest.

And now, in silence, o'er the gloomy land, She saw advance a slowly winding band; [hue Their cheeks were veil'd, their robes of mournful Flow'd o'er the lawn, and swept the pearly dew; O'er the fresh turf they sprinkled sweet perfume, And strow'd with flowers the venerable tomb. A graceful matron walk'd before the train, And tuned in notes of woe the funeral strain: When from her face her silken veil she drew, The watchful maid her aged mother knew. O'erpower'd with bursting joy, she runs to meet The mourning dame, and falls before her feet.

The matron with surprise her daughter rears, Hangs on her neck, and mingles tears with tears. Now o'er the tomb their hallow'd rites they pay, And form with lamps an artificial day: Ere long the damsel reach'd her native vale, And told, with joyful heart, her moral tale; Resign'd to Heaven, and lost to all beside, She lived contented, and contented died.

SIR W. JONES.

VOL. I.

HYMN TO SCIENCE.

O Vitæ Philosophia Dux! O Virtutis indagatrix, expul trixque Vitiorum.-Tu Urbes peperisti; tu inventrix Legum, tu niagistra Morum et Disciplinæ fuisti: Ad te confugimus, a te Opem petimus.' Cic. Tusc. Quæst.

SCIENCE! thou fair effusive ray

From the great source of mental day,
Free, generous, and refined!
Descend with all thy treasures fraught,
Illumine each bewilder'd thought,

And bless my labouring mind.

But first, with thy resistless light
Disperse those phantoms from my sight,
Those mimic shades of thee;

The scholiast's learning, sophist's cant,
The visionary bigot's rant,
The monk's philosophy.

Ó! let thy powerful charms impart
The patient head, the candid heart,
Devoted to thy sway;

Which no weak passions e'er mislead,
Which still with dauntless steps proceed
Where reason points the way.

Give me to learn each secret cause;
Let number's, figure's, motion's laws
Reveal'd before me stand;

These to great Nature's scenes apply,
And round the globe and through the sky
Disclose her working hand.

Next, to thy nobler search resign'd,
The busy, restless, human mind,
Through every maze pursue;
Detect perception where it lies,
Catch the ideas as they rise,

And all their changes view.

Say from what simple springs began
The vast ambitious thoughts of man,
Which range beyond control,
Which seek eternity to trace,
Dive through the' infinity of space,
And strain to grasp the whole.

Her secret stores let Memory tell,
Bid Fancy quit her fairy cell,
In all her colours dress'd;
While, prompt her sallies to control,
Reason, the judge, recalls the soul
To Truth's severest test.

Then launch through being's wide extent;
Let the fair scale with just ascent
And cautious steps be trod;
And from the dead, corporeal mass
Through each progressive order pass
To instinct, reason, GOD!

There, Science! veil thy daring eye;
Nor dive too deep, nor soar too high,
In that divine abyss;

To Faith content thy beams to lend,
Her hopes to' assure, her steps befriend,
And light her way to bliss.

Then downward take thy flight again,
Mix with the policies of men

And social Nature's ties;

The plan, the genius of each state,
Its interest and its powers relate,
Its fortunes and its rise.

Through private life pursue thy course,
Trace every action to its source,
And means and motives weigh:
Put tempers, passions in the scale;
Mark what degrees in each prevail,
And fix the doubtful sway.

That last best effort of thy skill,
To form the life and rule the will,
Propitious power! impart:

Teach me to cool my passions' fires,
Make me the judge of my desires,
The master of my heart.

Raise me above the vulgar's breath,
Pursuit of fortune, fear of death,
And all in life that's mean:
Still true to reason be my plan,
Still let my actions speak the man,
Through every various scene.

Hail! queen of manners, light of truth;
Hail! charm of age, and guide of youth;
Sweet refuge of distress:

In business, thou! exact, polite;
Thou givest retirement its delight,
Prosperity its grace.

Of wealth, power, freedom, thou the cause;
Foundress of order, cities, laws,

Of arts inventress thou!

Without thee, what were humankind?

How vast their wants, their thoughts how blind! Their joys how mean! how few!

Sun of the soul! thy beams unveil!
Let others spread the daring sail
On Fortune's faithless sea:
While, undeluded, happier I
From the vain tumult timely fly,
And sit in peace with thee.

AKENSIDE.

THE CONCLUDING

SENTENCE OF BERKELEY'S SIRIS,

IMITATED.

BEFORE thy mystic altar, heavenly Truth,
I kneel in manhood, as I knelt in youth:
Thus let me kneel till this dull form decay,
And life's last shade be brighten'd by thy ray:
Then shall my soul, now lost in clouds below,
Soar without bound, without consuming glow*.

SIR W. JONES.

These lines were written by Sir William Jones in Berkeley's Siris; they are, in fact, a beautiful version of the last sentence of the Siris, amplified and adapted to himself: He that would make a real progress in knowledge must dedicate his age as well as youth, the latter growth as well as the first fruits, at the altar of Truth.'