Wine, sparkling like the ruby bright,
Neither too sweet, nor yet too light;
One draught from purple wine we'll sip,
And one from beauty's rosy lip!
A maid, whose joyous glances roll
To cheer the heart and charm the soul;
Whose graceful locks, that flow behind,
Engage and captivate mankind!
A noble friend, whose rank is grac'd
By learning and poetic taste;
Who, like my Patron, loves the bard,
Well skill'd true merit to reward!
Breathes there a man too cold to prove
The joys of friendship or of love?
Oh, let him die! when these are fled
Scarce do we differ from the dead!
_Gentleman's Magazine_.
* * * * *
LITERARY GAZETTES.
As one of the signs of the times we notice the almost simultaneous
appearance of three new Literary Gazettes, at Edinburgh, Oxford, and
Manchester. One of the latter contains a wood-cut of the Manchester
Royal Institution, and eight quarto pages for three-pence. Among the
original articles is a sketch of Mr. Kean, in which the writer says,
"Mr.
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