FAREWELL TO THE EMIGRANT.*

The principal Rhetorical Figures are the Ecphonesis, the Polysyndeton, and the Alliteration.

How swift the vessel disappears!
How fast the moments fly!
'Till he be gone, ye starting tears,
Oh! dim not yet mine eye.
Still I can see him, where he stands
Upon the deck, and waves his hands,
Oh! is it fixed and must it be-
A few short moments swiftly past,
And I on him have looked my last,
And he his last on me.

And I shall to my home return,
And gaze upon his chair,

And still my heart may yearn and yearn,
But ne'er will he be there.

And on me fortune's sun may shine,
And wealth and splendour may be mine,
-He will not share my prosperous day,

And I may faint and droop and die,
And not a friend to soothe me by,

And he far, far away.

fond ear

That voice whose tones to my
Were music, one and all;
'Mid strangers, captious and severe,
On dull, cold ears shall fall.
That eye whose oft remember'd glance
To me were wealth, that eye perchance
Around no answering eye shall see,
No answering glance of kindness found,
That eye perchance shall look around,
Around in vain for me.

This piece requires generally a plaintive utterance, with an air of Melancholy, and a feeling of Anxiety, occasionally rising to Distress.

But no! ah no! for far away,
'Neath transatlantic skies;
What scenes in long succession gay,
Before him still shall rise.—
Each object there that strikes his view,
To him surprising, strange, and new,
Unnamed, unknown, unseen before;
Not one to fling remembrance back,
And force the mind upon the track
years that come no more.

Of

While I

but no!-I must resign The walks where he was guide ;

The favourite paths that once were mine,
When he was by my
side.

Yet to what end- -in house or street,
Some token still my eyes will meet,
To wake regret's undying pain;
And memory in an instant stray
To him who yonder sails away,
And ne'er shall come again.

Already now his form grows dim,
Yet still a form I trace;
Yet still I know I look on him-
Oh could I see his face!
Does sorrow sit upon his brow?
Is he as pale as I am now

?

Ah no! he had not, could not then Leave friends and country all behind, A country o'er the seas to find,

And friends in unknown men.

Yes-longer why should I complain?
Who forced him to depart?
'Twas he that chose-I should not deign
To mourn so light a heart.

In childhood, youth, we two were one,

Yet he how lightly can he run

From me, from all, the seas to plough;

To faces fresh and friendships new-
So be it-ere he find as true-

-But wherefore murmur now.

Since he can thus with scarce a throe,

Leave England, home, and me;

To him and all his weal or woe
Will I as careless be.
Of early years it matters not,
Am I, since he has all forgot,

So weak I cannot do the same?
Henceforth betide him, good or ill,
Unmoved, indifferent-yes I will,
Unmoved I'll hear his name.

But look!-how swiftly blows the gale-
The vessel sinks from sight-
Look! look! on ocean blue, the sail
Gleams in the distance white.
It sinks-it sinks-and all is o'er !
Oh for one glimpse-one moment more!
Another moment-but another!

It rises not-I am alone,

Oh! thou art gone, for ever gone,
My brother!-oh my brother!

T. W.

THE NEGRO'S ADDRESS TO HIS WIFE.

Supposed to be delivered as he is about to be executed.

(PLAINTIVE EXPRESSION.)

The principal Rhetorical Figure is the Apostrophe.

a 'Tis past---ah! soothe thy cares to rest,
b Firm and unmov'd am I,

In freedom's cause I bared my breast,
In freedom's cause I die.

a Affectionate manner, the right hand and eye being directed towards the imagined object.

b Courage-requiring a bold, undaunted manner. The hand to be pressed on the left breast at " I."

O stop! d thou dost me fatal wrong,
Nature will yet rebel;

• For I have loved thee very long,
And loved thee passing well.

f To native skies and peaceful bowers
I soon shall wing my way;

Where joy shall lead the circling hours
Unless too long thy stay.

O speed fair sun! thy course divine,
My Abdala remove!

There thy bright beams shall ever shine,
And I for ever love.

On these blest shores, a slave no more,
In peaceful ease I'll stray,

Or rouse to chase the mountain-boar,
As unconfined as day.

g No Christian tyrant there is known
To mark his steps with blood,
Nor sable misery's piercing moan
Resounds thro'
every wood.

h Yet I have heard the melting tongue,
Have seen the falling tear;

Known the good heart by pity wrung;
Alas! such minds are rare!

i Now, Christian, glut thy savage eyes,
I reach the joyful hour,
Now bid the scorching flames arise
And these poor limbs devour.

k

But know, pale tyrant, 'tis not thine

Eternal war to wage;

The death thou giv'st shall but combine

To mock thy baffled rage.

c Earnest Entreaty.

f Enthusiastic manner.

d Chiding.

e Affectionate warmth.

g" Christian tyrant" to be uttered with set teeth and a look and feeling of Hatred.

h Pathetic tone.

i Triumph-with a strong feeling of Contempt.

k Hatred with Exultation.

O Death! how welcome to th' oppress'd!
Thy kind embrace I crave;
Thou bring'st to Misery's bosom, rest,
And Freedom to the slave!

1 Transport.

a

XIMALPOCA.

The principal Rhetorical Figures are the Erotesis, the Metaphor, the Ecphonesis, and the Metonymy.

Subjects! friends! children! I may call you childre.., For I have ever borne a father's love

Towards you; it is thirteen years since first

You saw me in the robes of royalty

Since here the multitudes of Mexico

Hail'd me their king. I thank you, friends, that now, In equal numbers and with equal love,

You come to grace my death.

For thirteen years

What I have been ye know; that with all care,
That with all justice, and all gentleness,
Seeking your weal, I govern'd. Is there one
Whom I have injured? one whose just redress
I have denied or baffled by delay?

b

Let him come forth, that so no evil tongue
Speak shame of me hereafter. O, my people
Not by my sins have I drawn down upon me
The wrath of Heaven.

The wrath is heavy on me!

Heavy! a burthen more than I can bear!

a Firm tone and manner, with a mixture of affectionate regard; the delivery should be slow and impressive.

b Solemn manner.

< The recollection of his wrongs induces the severest Anguish.

G