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ON PARLIAMENTARY REFORM AND THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. No. IX.
AN HOUR'S TALK ABOUT POETRY,
ON THE FOREIGN POLICY OF THE WHIG ADMINISTRATION. No. I.
OPINIONS OF AN AMERICAN REPUBLICAN, AND OF A BRITISH WHIG ON
TO A BUTTERFLY NEAR A TOMB. BY MRS HEMANS,
NOCTES AMBROSIANE. No. LVIII.
WILLIAM BLACKWOOD, NO. 45, george street, EdinbURGH; AND T. CADELL, STRAND, LONDON.
To whom Communications (post paid) may be addressed.
SOLD ALSO BY ALL THE BOOKSELLERS OF THE UNITED KINGDOM.
PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE AND CO. EDINBURGH.
This day is Published, price 3s.
THE EDINBURGH LAW JOURNAL, No. III.,
For August, 1831.
CONTENTS.-1. Lawyer-Reform, or Observations on the Prevailing Moral Standård of Legal Practice, and Hints for a Revision of it by the Profession.—II. Distinction between Civil and Ecclesiastical Jurisdiction.-III. Principles of Prescription, with the History of its Rise and Progress in the Law of Scotland.-IV. Teind Court.-V. Considerations as to the Expediency of Imposing on a Judge the Duty of Examining into Correctness of the Statements of the Parties.-VI. Suggestions for the Improvement of Courts of Justice, No. I.-VII. On the Forms and Style of Land Rights in Scotland.-VIII. Transactions of Society for the Consideration of Questions relating to the Form of Process.-IX. Remarks on Recent Decisions. -X. Legal Intelligence-Sequestrations awarded by the Court of Session, from 12th March to 11th July, 1831-Cessiones Bonorum, for the same period.-List of Persons confirmed as Trustees on Sequestrated Estates, from 12th March to 11th July, 1831.-Discharges.
Printed for WILLIAM BLACKWOOD, Edinburgh;
And T. CADELL, Strand, London,
No. CLXXXV. SEPTEMBER, 1831.
MARY M'GRAGHI sat under the tree,
"A buckle of gold, and a silver band,
Now, Mary M'Gragh, dost thou not see
The boughs how they quiver above thy head?
That ev'ry green leaf is a Fairy's bed,
And they're bending out over, thy bidding to take,
Then Mary M'Gragh she wish'd more and more
As ever the Queen of Sheba wore
For wishes are seldom too discreet;
And fast as the words flew out of her mouth,
Away went the Fairies north and south.
Away went the Fairies east and west,
They are bound to do for every guest
But first I must ring my magical bell,
To read me The Fairy-Chronicle;
To call my own dear Sprite to my ear,
And all you can comprehend you'll hear,
What's read from the book or seen with these eyes.
Yet a thousand to one you take for lies
VOL. XXX, NO. CLXXXV.
"WORK on, work on," quoth the Fairy Queen, "Work on, work on, my merry sweet elves, In air so bright or on earth so green,
Under the boughs or on lichen shelves, Under the pebbles in glassy wells,
The bat's dark holes, or in waxen cells."
They stitch, they hammer, they line, they mark,
A veil they made of the spider's thread,
For a gown of the finest mosselin;
And to edge and trim the mosselin sleeves,
Of which they make the finest lace-
Ne'er came from Bruxelles or Nottingham.
The sparkles they fly from the beetle's wing,
That shineth beneath a jeweller's rasp;
Full fifty thousand Dumbledoors
The Elves they slew with a forked pin, For a velvet boddice, except the gores,
And they were made of the black mole's skin;
The boddice was clasp'd with beetles' wings,
Prick'd with needles of hornets' stings.
They took a tuft of the trembling grass,
Till it shone as it shook like yellow glass,
For a feather of Bird of Paradise.
From the damask-rose they cull'd drops of dew,
A thousand merry-men hunt the shrubs,
Living and writhing the hairy grubs,
For a tippet of the Boa-kind.
And the calceolaria's dew-steep'd woof,
Were I of the milliner craft, I ween,
I might the trinkums all explain, Nor refer to the Ladies' Magazine
For the fashions that enter damsels' brain; But I know of gowns there were fifty-three, Besides a bright green from the tulip-tree.
And of every texture they were made,
Mosselin, and velvet, and gros-de-Naples ;
Now perhaps you marvel all the while,
But I've learnt their lore, and boldly state,
And suppose they had furnish'd sweet Mary's dress,
But Fairies must work like other folk,
Though with spells over water, earth, and air,
That can change them to things most strange and rare.
But there must be the seeds, as the syrup laid
Has been ta'en from the fragrance of true-love bowers, And gentle thoughts from sunny looks,
And the soul of music from running brooks.
You cannot pick love from a pavement-stone,
Yet these are but mysteries and cabala,
If Thetis brought to her mortal son,
All nicely pack'd in her own sweet arms,
An armoury suit that might weigh a ton
You have learn'd very little of spells and charms, Not to know that a box of Millinerie,
Might drop at the foot of a Wishing-Tree.