. Death's doings: consisting of numerous original compositions, in verse and prose, the friendly contributions of various writers; principally intended as illustrations of thirty copperplates . ld supernal light. Renown, on its swift pinion, blazons forth The glory of his name, and sages hail And praise him—fairest lips recite his verse. And nations arm them when he sings of war. Alas, that eloquence will soon be mute— That harp, unstrung, shall lose its loveliness. Nor know its own sweet sound again. No more Shall womans eye behold its light approach,— No more her dulcet voice (by passion tau
. Death's doings: consisting of numerous original compositions, in verse and prose, the friendly contributions of various writers; principally intended as illustrations of thirty copperplates . ld supernal light. Renown, on its swift pinion, blazons forth The glory of his name, and sages hail And praise him—fairest lips recite his verse. And nations arm them when he sings of war. Alas, that eloquence will soon be mute— That harp, unstrung, shall lose its loveliness. Nor know its own sweet sound again. No more Shall womans eye behold its light approach,— No more her dulcet voice (by passion taught). 312 DEATH S DOINGS. To her young soul shall whisper dreamy love,And make her startle even at herself. * Love and its light are now evanishing;Life and its bliss do tremble at the ShadeThat stands before him. He beholds it not—See, in its sallow hand is held a wreathOf laurel leaves, so fresh, they seem to mockThat withering grasp. A smile is on his cheek—His eye looks dark with thought—his dreams are ofThe coming time—and Hope is bright within—Slowly the wreath now falls—the hand of DeathHath placed the fadeless verdure on his he is not of life. J. J. irt ^ 313 ACADEMIC PURSUITS. Theres honour for you!—Shakspeare. Like you such grinning honour? You will pro-bably answer. No. Why, then, before you engagein the widely-different, but no less hazardous war-fare of words and arguments, propositions and dis-quisitions, reply and rejoinder, with the long train ofimportant etceteras, do, my young and sanguinefriend, take a peep into a pericranium—examine thefilmy texture of the brain, and the cobweb characterof those fibres which compose its substance; fromthence descend to the region of the stomach, andview the connexion of its digestive powers, which,as well as the brain, depend upon the quiet opera-tion of thought,—which the hurry of passion, theardour of pursuit, or the no less dangerous tendencyof rigid and intense application, may destro
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