The constitutionalist — Exeter, N.H., 1810-12-17 00:00:00, page 4

ft Here shall the billows stiffen, and have
rest!"
Ye ice falls! ye that from yon dizzy
heights
Adown enormous ravines steeply slfye,
Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty
voice,
And stopped at once amid their maddest
\plunge!.
Motionless torrents ! silent cataracts !
Who made you glorious as the gates of
Heaven,
Beneath the- keen full Moon fc Who hade
' the Sun
Clothe you with Rainbows? Who with love
ly flowers -
Os living blue spread garlands at your feet?
God! God! The torrents, like a shout of
nations,.
Utter! The ice-plain bursts, and answers
would be, who could be an Atheist, in
•this valley of wonders! If any of the
readers of the Morning Post have visit
ed this vale in their journeys among
the Alps, I am confident they will not
find the sentiments and feelings express
ed, in the following poem, extravagant.
ESTESE.
Hand and voice,
Awake, awake ! and thou, my heart, awake !
Awake, ye rocks! Ye forest pines, awake!
..Green fields, and icy cliffs ! All join my hymn
And thou, O silent mountain, sole and bare,
O blacker, than the darkness, all the night,
And united, all night, by troops of stars,
Or when they climb the sky, or when they
Chamouny is one of the highest
mountain valleys of the Barony of Fan
cigny in the Savoy Alps; and exhibits
a kind of fairy world, in which the
wildest appearances (I had almost said
horrors) of nature, alternate with the
softest and most beautiful. The chain
of Mont Blanc is its boundary ; and,
besides the Arve', it is filled with sounds
from the Arvoiron, which rushes from
the melted glaciers, like a giant, mad
with joy from a dungeon, and forms
other torrents of snow-water, having
their rise in the glaciers, which slop
down into the valley. The beautiful
gentiana major, or greater gentiane
with blossoms of the brightest blue,
grows in large companies, a few steps
from the never melted ice of the glaciers.
1 thought it an affecting emblem of the
boldness of human hope, venturing
near, and, as it were, leaning over the
brink of the grave. Indeed, the whole
vale, its very light, its every sound,
must needs impress every mind, not ut-
Hast thou a charm to stay the morning star
In his steep course ?—so long he seems to
pause
On thy bald, awful head, 0 Chamouny!
The Arve and Arveiron at th) base
Rave ceaselessly; but thou, dread moun
tain form,
Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines,
How silently! Around thee, and above,
Deep is the sky, and black: transpicuous,
deep,
An eben mass ! Methinks, thou piercest it
As with a wedge ! But when I look again,
It seems thy own calm home, thy chrystal
shrine.
Thy habitation from eternity.
f^&£^^
Did'st vanish, from my thoughts Entranc'd
in pray'r
I worshipp'd the Invisible alone.
Yet thou, meantime, wast working on my
soul,
E'en like some deep enchanting melody,
So sweet, we know not we are list'ning to it.
But I awake, and with a busier mind,
And active will self-conscious, offer now
Not, as before, involuntary pray'r
And passive adoration !—
sink—
Companion of the morning star at dawn,
Thyself Earth's rosy star, and of the dawn
Co-herald ! Wake, 0 wake, and utter praise !
Who sank thy sunless pillars deep in earth ?
Who fill'd thy countenance with rosy light?
Who made thee father of perpetual streams?
And you, ye five wild torrents, fierce!, glad,
Who call'd you forth from Night and utter
from darkness let you loose, and icy dens,
Down those precipitous, black jagged rocks
For ever shattered, and the same forever ?
Who gave you your invulnerable life,
lour strength, your speed, your fury and
your joy,
Unceasing thunder, and eternal foam?
Anc who commanded, and the silence
'came—.
terly callous, with the thought—Who
ORIGINAL POETRY OF A SUPERIOR
From the London Morning Post.
CHAMOUNY.
THE HOUR BEFORE SUN-RISE.
A HYMN.
Death ?
Selected Poetry.
CAST.
sad the scene! How dismal th^ future
prospect! Mourn not; spring again
will bloom, the field and garden again
rejoice; and the grove resound with
the singing of birds.
Behold frail mortal the picture of
thyself! Thy vernal infancy,thy youth
ful summer, and thy cheerless autumn
of withering age! How swift are thy
days; how soon past. What, next a
waits thee? The winter of death, the
cold, the silent grave. How sad the
present, how dismal the future pros
pect! Thy sleeping dust shall be rean
imated, thy mouldering body be cloth-
blossom ; bla&are thy locks Evelina
and polished as the Raven's smooth
pinions; swan's silver plumage is not
fairer than thy neck—and the witch of
love heaves all her enchantments from
thy bosom.
Rise, my Evelina, the sprightly
beam of the sun descends to kiss thee,
without enmity to me, and the heath
reserves its blossoms to greet thee with
its odours, thy timid lover will pick
the strawberries from the awful lofty
crag, and rob the hazel of its unborn
pride, the sweetness of whose kernel
thou far exceedest; let my berries be
as red as thy lips, and my nuts ripe,
yet milky as the love-begotten fluid in
the bridal bosom.
Queen of the cheerful smile! Shall
I not meet thee in the moss grown cave,
and press to my heart thy beauties in
the wood of Iniscother? How long
wilt thou leave me. Evelina, mourn
ful as the lone son of the rock ; telling
thy beauties to the passing gale, and
pouring out my complaints to the grey
stone of the valley ?
Ah ? Didst thou not hear my songs,
0 virgin! thou who shouldst be the
tender daughter ofa meek ey'd mother.
Whenever thou comest, Evelina,
thou approachest like summer to the
children of frost, and welcome with
rapture are thy steps to my view, as
the harbinger of light to the eye of
darkness.
How short the day, how long and
gloomy the night! The verdure of the
field is faded ; the garden and thegrove
mourn. Here no birds sings; there
no lily blows! How altered from the
bloom offspring !—The bloom offspring
is fled ; summer is past; cheerless au
tumn is retiring ; and frowning winter
will soon triumph, in the midst of des
olation. The blast blows cold, it ris
es to a tempest! it roars from the fro
zen mountains of the north. How
Utter forth, God! and fill the hills with
praise !
And thou, 0 silent Form, alone and bare,
Whom, as I lift again my head bow'd low
In adoration, I again behold,
And to thy summit upward from thy base
Sweep slowly with dim eyes suffused by
tears,
Awake, thou mountain form ! rise, like a
cloud !
Rise, like a cloud of incense^om the earth!
Thou kingly spirit throned among the hills,
Thou dread ambassador from Earth to
Heaven—
Great hierarch, tell thou the silent sky,
And tell the stars, and tell the rising sun,
Earth with her thousand voices calls on God!
ESTESE.
EVELINA.
[As translated from the Irish.]
The following Poem is said to have
been written in the twelfth century,
by a Bard of the country that is now
part of the county of Waterford, in
the kingdom of Ireland —and trans
lated by a gentleman skilled in the
language and antiquities of the coun
try. It is to be regretted that the
author's name has not been handed
down to us.— Louisville Gaz.
The sky's blue face, when cleared
by dancing sun-beams, looks not seren
er than thy countenance, the richness
of the wild honey is on thy lip, and
It was on the white hawthorn, on
the brow of the valley, 1 saw the rising
of the day first break ; the young, the
soft, the gay delightful morning ; it
kissed the crimson of the rose, mixed
with her smiles, and laughed the season
on us.
Rise, my Evelina; soul that informs
my heart; Do thou rise, too, more
lovely than the morn in her blushes,
more modest than the rifled rose when
weeping in her dews —pride of the west
ern shores !
God! sing the meadow streams with glad
some voice,f
And pine groves with their soft, and soul-
like sound,
The silent snow^mass loos'ninff, thunders
God! .
Ye dreadless flowers ! that fringe th' eter-
nal frost!
Ye wild goats, bounding by the eagle's nest!
Ye eagles, playmates of the mountain blast !
Ye lightnings, the dread arrows of the
clouds!
Ye signs and wonders of the element,
APPROACH OF WINTER.
Dear Mungo,
TURRER day I meet misse Phillisse
in de treet, she trut like a turkey wis
he tail pread; trait like alampos; her
head so high she no able for see de pa
ment? ^~ tumble over de tep tone,
pile broke her toe on de side walk,
and de debble to pay—“ Why, Phillis
se," say I, " what de debble make
yon so trait like a pickeral ? what
make you so blind you no can see
for go?" Phillisse she tell me she hab
on a gossup, or fossup, or cossup,
or what yon call dem tings de buckram
lady wear before, for make him hold
up she head? Cossup, I believe.
" Cossup! why what you call cossup,
misse Phillisse ? say I, where you put
him? what he look like? Phillisse she
tell me for feel. ''Lord bress me !
say I, why tis big and long like de
hogsit tave: how can you wear dem!
he pinch you, make you look so like
a wasp. 0 Phillisse! Phillisse ! dis neb
ber do. I hear massa, turrer day,
read long letter in de nuse paper, from
Massa Filampus, bout dese ugly cos.
sup; and Massa Filampus he say how
dat one fine chamman young buckram
misse, who hab de rosy cheek and de
shiny eye, she go ded for dem plaguy
tings. And Massa he read one ud
der letter and de nuse paper too,
from massa Filum Filampus, bout
misse Doubleco, she too most dead, all
for de cossup. 0 Phillisse ! spose you
no trow dese tings 'way, you come
sick and you die too. Phillisse! I
cannot bear for see you sick; den you
look so tin and so pale, like de yellow
molat, den your eye no shineno more."
Ky ! Phillisse she say, who care for
massa Filampus and Filum Filampus?
He buckram man, he say so for frite
de lady of color, and make dem fraid
for follow de fashun of de buckram
lady. Spose de buckram lady wear
de cossup—l wear de cossup : she no
fraid—l no fraid. " 0 Phillisse ! say I
sposeyou comesick ; you no got mon
ey for pay doctor, buckram lady hab.
Den you hab nothing for comfort
you. De white people day say let
poor niggar die; what bisiness she
make herself sick because de buckram
lady she do so? Niggar fool." Den
Phillisse she promise me she trow way
de cossup, and next time I see her she
feel so well—bless me she dance and
she laugh, and she grin so, and her eye
shine, and she look so chirk, it make
my heart jump in mygoat for see her.
''Ah hah Phillisse —(say I) you no hab
on de cossup now. If the buckram
lady was wise like you, dey could
laugh and dance and grin too. Niggar
wise now—buckram lady fool.
SAMBO;
There is not any medium in the mar
riage state. You have either the hap
piness of Angels or the misery of fiends.
ed with immortal beauty.—Then shalt
thou rejoice in unfading youth; the
blasts of adversity shall blow no more !
The night of death will be succeeded
by celestial morning? The winter of
mortality, by a long, eternal spring.
" HERE is the last stage of life's
journey ; Here is the connecting ren
dezvous of suffering mortals: Here is
a safe retreat from the barbed shafts of
malice, from pointed perils and from
misery's rod : Here, after noble and
ignoble views,(after every ardent wish,
after pursuing every flattering object,
we find the issue of them all. Here,
from servile bondage, and oppression's
iron hand, rests the wretched negro,
whom chance had made a slave; Here
he forgot his galling state, and with his
tyrant sleeps equally accomodated.
Here the injured moulder together.
Here sleep the meanly saving and the
riotous profuse. Here prostrate in
dust, lay the degraded relics of soar
ing mortals ! Remember then, the tran
sient visions of terestial greatness; and
act so as to be prepared to pay the mo
mentary loan of Heaven's great lender.
A learned lady enquired why chem
istry, geography, algebra, languages,
&c. were not as becoming in a woman
as in a man? I will not say, replied a
wit, they are entirely unbecoming ; but
I should think a very little would an
swer the purpose. A woman's knowl
edge of chemistry might extend to the
melting of butter, her geography to a
thorough knowledge of every hole and
corner in the house; & as for tongues,
heaven knows one is quite sufficient.
The ridiculous and pernicious prac
tice among our fashionable females,
of wearing a machine called a 'COR
SET' the object of which is to brace
them up into a genteel shape, is
handsomely burlesqued in the fol
lowing article : —
From the New-York Columbian.
IMPORTANT TO THE LADIES.
A LETTER
From Sambo, on the interesting sub
ject of Corsets.
Reflections in a Grave- Yard.
FEMALE SCIENCE.
Fifty Dollars Reward.
LOST on the Evening of the 26th
or on the Morning of the 27th
of November—A smallßlack Morocco
POCKET BOOK, containing Two
Hundred and Teh or Fifteen Dollars
in Bank Bills. Whoever has found the
same and will return it to the owner at
Major Leavitt's Tavern in Exeter, shall
receive the above reward.
AMOS WHEELER.
Exeter, Dec. 1, 1810.
Just Received, .
And for Sale at the Exeter Book
store,
A Treatise on Plead
ing, with a collection of Practical Pre
cedents and Notes thereon, in 2 vols.
octavo, by Joseph Chitty, Esq. of the
Middle Temple.
An impartial and concise
History of the French Revolution,
from its first causes and commence
ment in 1789, to the conclusion and
coronation of Bonaparte, Emperor of
the French, on the 2d of Dec. 1804.
—From the most authentic sources.
THE VARIOUS BRANCHES OF
Letter-Press-Printing
EXECUTED WITH NEATNESS,
ACCURACY, and DISPATCH,
By Charles Norris <% Co.
EXETER, N.H.
Blanks...Bills...Cards.. .Circu
lars, &c. sc. printed at the
shortest notice, on the
,most reasonable
terms.
Constantly for Sale —as above,
BLANKS
of various kinds,
Dec. 10.
100 Dollars Reward.
STOLEN from the pasture of the
Subscriber, on Tuesday thetwen
ueth of November inst. a dark brown
MARE, five years old, and about
fourteen and a half hands high, with
a black mane and tail, trots all, and is
branded on the neck with T. and C.
Whoever will return said Mare to the
Subscriber, or give information so that
she may be found,shall have THIRTY
DOLLARS Reward, or ONE HUN
DRED DOLLARS for the thief or
thieves with said Mare.
PENSON COGSWELL.
CONTAINING
I. The Gentleman's Pocket Almanack, &
Historical Retrospect of Events in each
month in the year.
11. A View of the first Settlement of the
State of New-Hampshire, and of its Cli
mate, Boundaries, Lakes, Rivers and
Mountains.
111. The Rates at which Polls and Ratea
ble Estates are estimated in Assessing
Taxes, with the most important infor
mation relative to the proceedings in
Town-Meetings, and the duty of Town-
Officers.
IV. The usual matter commonly publisb
ed in Registers, with many Additions
and Improvements.
ALMANACKS of every
kind, by the gross, dozen or single.
N. B. The above thief is supposed
to be John Drew, that noted horse
stealer of Barnstead. Said Drew is
about 5 feet 10 or 11 inches high,
has black eyes, short black hair, and
rather a downcast 100k —goes generally
well dressed.
Gilmanton, Nov. 26, 1810.
THE Widow of George Chase,
lately arrived in Baltimore from
the West-ladies is anxious to find the
relatives of her deceased Husband—
he died at Tortola about ten months a
go. She believes they reside in Massa
chusetts .or some part of N. England ;
and requests a line from sdeh of them
as may see this advertisement.
(CT Printers of papers in Massachu
setts and other parts of N. England,
will oblige a stranger by republish
ing the preceding a few times.
Baltimore, Nov. 10, 1810.
C. NORRI.S $ CO..
Have this day published, the
New-Hampshire
REGISTER,
with
Published on a New and Improved Plan.
Information Wanted.
AN EPHEMERIS FOR THE YEAR
1811.
PRINTING.
Subscriptions to be returned by the
first of February, 1811.
(Hr Printers of Newspapers, by in
serting the above in the* respective
papers will confer a great favor,
and shall receive the like whenever
requested.
Exeter, N. H. Dec. 1, 1810.
The Constitutionalist :
POLITICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS.
Is published every Monday morning by
E. C. BEALS,
at the Office ofC. Norris & Co. Exeter, N. H.
CONDITIONS.
$ 2 per annum, $ 1 in advance on Subscrib
ing 6 cents single.
No subscription received for a less term
than six months.
Advertisements inserted in a conspicu
ous manner at $1 per square, in three
successive papers.
shall receive a ninth gratis.
*** Subscriptions received by the
Publishers, and by Booksellers and
Printers of Newspapers throughout
the United States.
livery.
Those who procure eight Subscribers
and become accountable for the same
More were unnecessary. The ver
sion by Hoole is in no wise inferi
or to his harmonious and energetick
translation of TAsso's Jerusalem De
livered. There are but a few sets
of the above work to be found in A
merica; and, as no pains and expense
will be spared to render the first Amer
ican edition worthy of suchdistinguish
ed notice, the intended publishers can
not but anticipate the patronage of
the learned and liberal of every class.
CO.VDITIOJVS.
The work will be comprised in three
volumes, Octavo, to contain about
five hundred pages each.
It will be printed on a superfine wove
paper and an entire new and elegant
BOOLE'S ARIOSTO.
—±^Z±*2fo-
C. Norris $ Co. AND E. C. Beals,
Propose Publishing by Subscription,
An elegant edition of
ORLANDO FURIO®D :
TRANSLATED FROM THE ITALIAN OF
Ludovico Ariosto ;
WITH NOTES.
By JOHN HOOLE.
BY the praise bestowed, from every
quarter, on the execution of the late
first American edition of Tasso's Je
rusalem Delivered, the publishers
of that celebrated work are induced,
once more to solicit the patronage of a
judicious and enlightened pubtick. la
offering this second, and superior speci
men of Italian Literature, which pro
cured Ariosto the appellation of
“ Divine, perhaps it would not be
amiss, to transcribe the opinions of a
few, whose particular intimacy with
the writings of the author, and whose
celebrity as authors themselves, justly
entitle them to much respect.
Lc Sage gives the following charac
ter of the Poet.
type.
Each volume shall be embellished with
two elegant engravings (to be exe
* cuted by a celebrated engraver) and
delivered to Subscribers at $2 50
per vol. in boards, to be paid on de-
'' He possesses all the elegance of
language ; his verses are strong and so
norous ; his descriptions admirable and
often sublime. Ariosto, whether se
rious or pleasant, is every where enter
taining, and preserves a degree of ma
jesty even in his pleasantry : he is the
only author that has found out the art
of blending the serious with the comic,
and the heroic with the familiar; by
which means he is truly original, and
such an original, as no one has yet
successfully imitated."
Gravina an Italian critick of great
taste and judgment, after a detail of
some of the author's peculiar and strik
ing beauties, concludes thus.
'' But such is the power of Ariosto,
that while his work is perusing, almost
all his blemishes are lost in the multi
tude of his excellencies."
" The Romance of Ariosto is so ex
tensive, so full of variety, so fruitful
in every kind of beauty, that after
having perused it, I have more than
once found my appetite excited to read
it again."
" The ORLANDO FURIOSO
has a merit altogether unknown to the
writers of antiquity. The poet is,
by turns, moral, pleasant and gallant;
but never departing from truth and na
ture."
The following is the summary of the
valuable opinion of that celebrated wit
and illustrious critick, V oltaire.