The Sun.
London, England, 1820-12-22 00:00:00

Five inches up the whiten'd wall.

The open window, thickly set
With myrtle, and with mignionette,
Behind whose cultivated row

A brace of globes peeps out for show,
The avenue—the buruisled plate,
That decks the would-he rustic gate.
Denote the fane where Fashion dwells,
—" Lyce's Academy for Belles."

'Tawas liere, in earlier, happier days,
Retired from Pleasure's weary mate,.
You found, unknown to care or pain,
The peace you will nut find again.
Here Friendships, far too fond to last,
A bright, but fleeting, radiance cast,
On every spurt that Mirth devised,
And every scene that Childhood prised,
And every bliss that bid you yet
Recall those moments with- regret.

Those friends have mingled in the strife
That fills the. busy scene of life,
And Pride and Folly—Cares-and Fears,
Look dark upon their future years :
But by their wrecks may Julia learn,
Whither her fragile bark to turn ;
And, o'er the troubled sea of fate,
Avoid-the rocks they found too late.

You know Camilla—o'er the plain
She guides the fiery bunter's rein :
First in the chase she sounds the horn,'
Trampling to earth the farmer's corn,
That hardly deign'd to bend its head,
Beneath her namesake's lighter tread.
With Bob the Squire, her polish'd borer,.
She wields the gnu, or beats the cover ;
And then her steed b—why! every clown
'fells how she rubs Smolensko down,
And coughs the mane, and cleans the hoof,
While wondering hinders stand

At night, before the Christmas fire
She plays backgammon with the Squire;
Shares in hiplaugh, and in his liquor,
Mimics her father and the Vicar;
Swears at the grooms—without a blush
Dips in her ale the captured brush,
Until—her father duly tired—
The parson's wig as duly fired—
The dogs all still—the Squire asleep,
And dreaming of his usual leap,—
She !terra the dregs of white and red,
And lounges languidly to bed ;
And still in nightly visions borne,
She gallops o'er the rustic's corn ;
Still wields the lash—still shakes the box,
Dreatniug of " sixes"--and the fox.

And this is Wiss—the story runs,
Camilla never wept—sare'inice
Yes ! once indeed Camilla cried—
'Twos when her dear Blue-stockings died.

Pretty Cardelia thinks she's ill—
She seeks her med'cine at Quadrille;
With hope, and fear, and envy sick,
She gazes on the dubious trick,
As it' Eternity were laid
•
Upon a diamond, or a spade. •
And I have seen a transient pique .
Wake, o'er that soft and girlish cheek,
A chilly and a feverish hue,
Blighting. the soil where Beauty grew,
And bidding Hate and Malice rove
In eyes, that ought to beam with love.
Turn we to Fannia—she was fair,
As the soft fleeting forms of air,
Shap'd by the fancy,—fitting theme
For yonthlul bard's enamour'd dream.
The neck, on whose transparent glow
The auburn ringlets sweetly flow,
The eye that swims in liquid fire,
The brow that frowns in playful ire ;
All these, when Fannia"s early youth
Look'd lovely in its native truth,
Diffus'd a bright, unconscious grace,
Almost divine, o'er form and face.
Her lip has lost its fragrant dew,
Her cheek has lost its rosy hue,
Her eye the glad enlivening rays,
That glittered there in happier days,
Her heart the ignorance of woe
Which Fa'shion's votaries may not know.
The city's smoke,—the noxious air,—
The constant crowd,—the torch's glare,—
The morning sleep, the noonday•cAli,
The late repast—the midnight ball,
Bid Faith and Beauty•die, and taint
'Ler heart with fraud, he: face with paint.
And what the boon, the prize enjoy'd ?
For fame defac'ci, and peace destroy'd
Why ask we this? With cbnscious grace
She' criticises silk and lace;
Queen of the modes, she reigns alike '
O'er sarcenet, bobbin, net, vandyite,
O'er rouge and ribbons, combs and curls,
Perfumes and patches, pins and pearls;
Feelings and faintings, songs and sighs,
Small-talk and'scandal, love and lies.
Circled by beaux behold her sit,
While Dandies tremble * her wit;
The Captain hates—" a woman's gab ;"
" A devil I" cries the shy Cantab;
The young Etonian strives to fly
The glance of her sarcastic eye,
For well he knows she looks him o'er,
To stamp him " buck," or dub hint " bore."

Such is her life—a life of waste,
A life of wretchedness—and taste
•And all the glary Fannia boasts,j
• And all the price that glory costs,
At once are reckoned up, in one—
One word of bliss and folly—Tun.
Not these the thoughts that could perplex
The fancies of our fickle sex,
When England's favourite, good Queen Bess,
Was Queen alike o'er war and dresi,
Then Ladies gay. play'd rhesse—and ballads,
And learnt to dress their hair,—and salads;
Sweets—and sweet looks were. studied then,
And both were pleasing to the men ;
For cookery was allied to taste, •
And girls were taught to blush,—and baste.
Dishes were bright—and so were eyes,
And lords made luve,—and ladies, pies.
Then Valour won the wavering field,
By dint of hauberk, and of shield ;
And Beauty won the wavering heart,
By dint of pickle, and of tart.
The minuet was the favourite-dance,
Girls lov'd the needle—boys the lance;
And Cupid took his constant post
At dinner, by the boil'd and roast,
Or secretly was wont to lurk,
In tournament, or needle-work.
Oh ! 'twas a reign of all delights,
Of but Sir-luins,—and but Sir knights -

Feasting and fight:ng, hand in band,
Fattened, and glorified the land;
And noble Chiefs bad noble cheet,
And Knights grew strong upon Strong beer ;
Honour and oxen both were nourish'd,
And Chivalry—and Pudding flouristed.
I'd rather see that magic face,
•
That look of love, that form of grace,
Girded by whalebone, and by ruffs,
Intent on puddings, and on puffs ;
I'd rather view thee thus, than see
" A Fashionable" rise in thee.
If Life is dark, 'tis not for you,
(If partial Friendship's voice is true)
To cure its griefs, and drown its cares,
By leaping gates, and murdering bares,
Nor to confine that feeling soul,
Tu winning lovers,—or the vole. '
If these, and such pursuits are thine,
Julia! thou art no friend of mine !
I love plain dress,—l eat plain joints,
cannot play ten guinea points,
I make no study of a pin,
And hate a female whipper-in.

•..' We feel great pleasure in selecting articles from THE
F.TotilAN, a work that di•plays extraordinary proofs of juve-
nile talents and observation.- This pleasure we are sure our
headers will share with us, not on account of temporary
amusement, hut hoot the promise which it holds forth of
talents that may be highly ornamental and beneficial to the
Country. And hefe we cannot but quote the words of a be-
tseculeert Poet, which seem to be peculiarly applicable to the
occasion

Heitce• nurs'd with skill, what dazzling fruits appear!
" Er'n now sagacious Foresight points to show
A little Bench of heedless Bishops here,
" And there a Chancellor in embrio,
" Or Bard sublime, if Bard may e'er be so,
" As Milton, Shakspeare, names that ne'cr shall die."

St 4 '4-100MAS N.F.I3IT'S DEFLNITION OF A " GOOD

FELLOW."

[From the Etonian, .No. 2.]
" Vir bonus est quis
Being desired by HIS MAJESTY to draw up,
for the instruction of all whom it may concern, " a Defini-
tion of a Good Fellow," I thought it proper to apply to the
Members of the Club individually, for such hints'as they could
furnish' me with, for thu prosecution of the design. I re-
ceived,the following :