New-York daily tribune. [volume] (New-York [N.Y.]) 1842-1866, 1852-12-25

Of the most trenchnnt native thought the Magazine ap
reals to the sense Of patriotism Within its pages Is
glorious company Of poets, wits, philosophers, critics.
artists traveller and men Of crudition and science
kindly furnished with masks lest the exceeding splen'
dor Of their beauty should dazzle to death the admir-
ing reader Under the benign protection thus aa0ri'
ed we may venture within The precincts ofthe temple,
where we meet with many fine aud pleasant things but
nothing Of so deadly brliancy we had been led to
fear First is discussion of the policy Of Fllbusterism
in relation to Cuba-rnoderate and Intelligent in favor
of peaceful annexation Then dew-drop OF poetry,
which has been bottled up from the oycraowings OF
The DIAL" Of transcendentai renown;
SPRING OR sUMMERl
Swiftly the young Spring came
Love Is not dearer-
Whispered The Summers name
As ever nearer.
Swiftly the young Spring fed,
Dawn is not fecter-
Promiscr or promised
Heart which was sweeteri
In different strain Is the following lyric sublime in
its bare simplicity, on the death of Wellington
THE WARDEN OF THE crNQuE POETS.
A Mrsr driving down the British Channel
The day was just begun,
And through the window-panes on floor and panel,
streamed the red Autumn sun.
1t glanced on flowing flag and ripping pennon
Aud the white sails of ships;
And, from the frowning rampant the black cannon
Hailedit with teyerish lips
Sandwich and R0mney Hastings, Hithe and Dover
Were all alert that day
To see the French war-steamers speeding over,
When the fog cleared away
sullen and silent, and like couchant lions,
Their cannon, through the night,
Holding their breath had watched in grim defiance
The sea-coast opposite.
And now they roared at drumbeatfro their stations
On every citadel;
Each answering each with morning salutatons,
That all was well!
And down the coast, all taking up the burden,
Replied the distant iorts
As If TO summon from HE sleep the Warden
And Lord of the CiDque Ports.
Him shall no sunshine from the fields of azure,
No drum beat from the wall,
No morning gun from the black forts enibrazure
Awaken with their CALI
No more surveying with an eye impartial
The long line Of the coast,
Shall the quaint figure of the old Field Marshal
Be seen npon his post
For in the night unseen a single warrior
In sonlbre harness mailed,
Dreaded Of man, and surnamed the Destroyer,
The rampant wall has scaled.
He passed into the chamber of the sleeper
The dark and silent room
And as he entered, darker grew and deeper
The silence and the gloom.
He did not pause to parley or dissemble,
But smole the Warden boar;
Ali what blow that made all England trcmbo
And groan from shore to shore
Meanwhile, without, the surly cannon waited,
The sun rose bright o'eShead
Nothing in Natures aspect intmated
That great man wal dead
Ofstories, we have the commencement of ANDREW
Cranberry, Attorney at Law, which is very spnghtly,
"The Living Corpse" which very CHASTITY and "vr.
GINA" racy ofthe Old Dominion. "A Swiss Journal"
and en- Excursion to Canada" are agreeable bits from
the romance oftrsvcl. Modern spiritualsm" unfods
sundry strange Incidents of Yankee grainarye "The
Fountain OF Youth Is allegorieal poem filed with
subtle thought and exquisite feeling expressed In
dainty sweetness of language The closing stansa will
give specimen Of its rich quality:
IT'S woodland enchantedi
If you ask me- Hhcye 1n1
only answer
tbs past my disclosing;
Not to CHOICES 1t granted
BY paths 10 visit
The still pool inclosng
Us bithe little dancer;
But in some day, the rarest
or many Septembers,
When the pulses of air rest
And all things lie dreaming
In the dr0wsy haze streaming
From the woods glowing ember,.
Then sorletimes unheedng
And asking not WHITTIER
By sweet inward leading
Ny feet are drawn thitAer,
And, looking with awe in the magical mirror,
! see through my tears,
Half doubtful of seeing
The face unperverted.
The warm, golden being,
OF a child Of FIVE years;
And, spite Of the mist and the error,
And the days overcast,
Can teel that walk undeserted,
But forever attended
BY the glad heavens that Blended
Der the innocent past;
Toward fancy truth ..-
Doth the sweet vision win met
Dare think that cast
In the fountain of youth,
The feeting reflection
OF some y,gone perfection
That still fingers IN met
Several miscellaneous articles complete the requisite
Of ~lo1x