The British Press; or, Morning Literary Advertiser.
London, England, 1824-12-27 00:00:00

1'01.1(7E.

3 ANSION-11017SE.
Cowry:ay ur.rw Licu TWO l'oEra.—The part the Lord
Mayor has taken with rcipect to the numerous unfortunate Spanish
Std Italian refugmi, Ins protium' manifestations of gratitude from
aIL One or two 1111111US121011, who might well be espected amongst
such a budt,. have sent laudatory testimonials of rrelter a comical
nature. That give:. tome days since by the Italian poet Malaspina,
upon his I airdaliip, lauding Ins virtues to the %Idea, and represent-
ing Jove es conferring the stivereignty of the city upon him, has
already been before the public. The poet, who was in suffering,
obtained relief, and retired with applause ; but, alas, bow short-
lived is human hsppiness ! Another has now come forward to bid
him defiance, reed iliapute his tide to the laurelswhich he wears. Mr.
Angelmi, the unktnunate professor of languages, ln morale, and
poetry, no longer pleads for pity to himself, but, in an indignant
tone, hr has denounced 3lalaspit.a, as not being a true poet, and de.
moods justice tinoa km. Knowing how dreadful and interminable
is a war between two poets, we steight to pacify him, but in vain.
Ile ace:toes the poet Malaspina of theft, and threatens to punish
(in verse) those as accomplices 110 attempt to altield him. The
following is nearly a lecral trauslat ion of the poem which Mr. An-
gelmi has prescittill to the Lord MISTOr, as at OOCC indicating his
two merits, and administering justice .to the demerits of another.

AN 01)11.;
To the exalted honoured Bang Ave, Lord Mayor of the City of
London.
Filled with a caered he which warms my breast, I come, my
Lord, to 'venge l'arnaasian thefts midst guilty hostile swords.
Should cruel fate, whose spurt I ton, sue stop my breath, my
aspiring museshall cry aloud.
Hallo! fp ho art thou that at the victorious gates of Esglish
Peer, like an impudent humbug, singest with a lyre not thine
own. t
:loch weapons are not for thy puny grasp ; leave to others the
task of lauding on golden harps him who upholds the sacred
balance.
1.01 I throw off the youthful laurel : I pass in silence sunder the
dark caverns of time, and emerging I behold him seated in the
Roman Forum.
I see him etplore with mind acute the indigested heap of
lags, and taking from Home's Tutelary ilenius the mighty tun-
pries ;
Fia them on the margin of the Thames, and there display wh-
ile:om which rinds will its vain attempt to emulate.
There evil PrITII4 bow down around hint like the damned before
the King of the Bloomy hates
Behold Alin serenely grave, whether speaking, adjudging, or ad.'
monishing, wisdom guides him, and virtue alone fears him pot.
Ile regards each part and watches over alllikethe light which
sheds its benign influeneeover both hemispheres.
were I not the victim of the Powers above ! Could I hops by
his wish to soften the inexorable fate..
Jove does not always wield the forked lightning: the thunder
peals not ever thnnigh the vaulted sky.
The wretched slava infliction.' sustains without sinking the
shower of M 41111114 tyrant bestows.
Father ! Sire ! May your pity mollify the stern decrees of fate !
'lay your goodness be such that I may have none but myself to
inculpate !
Alarrh not to the judgment-seat 'midst grim-visaged Marshal.
men ! Brandish not Joh the awe-inspiring mace
Stretch out your seals it) the Benius of Puler, and lend your
power supreme to heal misfortune's wounds.
Let the sword of matiee impend over the guilty alone. Pardon
and pity repentant error, and let clemency temper seventy.
But already fame proclaims your acts to distant lambi, and the
lyre ilmps from lily enfeebled hands.
/then will relate to future ages your glorious deeds in far loftier
strains than those, either Theban or Lesbian, uttered by a hapless
Bard, immersed in suffering and mirror.
In tnutiniony of profound esteem,
In, hustilstnn-street. EDNICND ANI:ELINI.