variety of shades, principally dark, is become fashionable for morning dresses. It unites economy with elegance, and, together with Irish poplins, bids fair to maintain its ground in the higher circles during the winter. It was furnished by Messrs. Archer and Houghton, Henrietta-street, Covent-garden.
No. 4 is a pattern of silk-striped shawl, a fashionable article for gentlemen’s waistcoats. It is manufactured in Yorkshire, Wiltshire, and Spitalfields, but the two latter produce a better manufactured article: it is made with silk and wool. It was furnished by Messrs. James, Thomas, and Joseph Kesteven.
Poetry.
ODE FOR THE NEW YEAR, 1809.
By H. J. Pye, Esq. P. L.
Full-orb’d in equinoctial skies,
When the pale moon malignant rides,
And bids the howling tempest rise,
And swells the ocean’s briny tides,
Dreadful against the sounding shore
The winds and waves tumultuous roar,
The torrent-braving mound in vain
The stormy inroad would restrain,
The surges with resistless sway
Force, o’er the labour’d mole their way,
Scorn every weak resource of human toil,
Overwhelm the peopled town, and waste the cultur’d soil.
But when, by native fences barr’d
From billowy rage, the happier land,
And rocky cliffs for ever stand
To the wide-water’d coast a guard,
Such as on Vecta’s southern steep
Look down defiance on the raging deep,
Such as on Dover’s breezy down
On Gallia’s hostile borders frown,
Tho’ billows urging billows roar,
And idly beat against the shore,
While from the heights sublime, the swain
Mocks the vain efforts of the foaming main,
Till nature bids the deluged surge subside,
Hush’d is the tempest’s voice, and refluent rolls the tide.
So o’er Europa’s ravaged plain
We saw the torrent wild of war
Resistless spread its iron reign,
And scatter ruin wide and far;
The embattled wall, the warlike band,
Vainly the Tyrant’s course withstand;
Before the impious sons of Gaul
The legions fly, the bulwarks fall:
Yet Britain’s floating castles sweep
Invasion from her subject deep;
Yet by her rocks secure from harm,
Securer by her patriot arm,
Iberia turns the battle’s tide,
Resists the injurious Tyrant’s pride,
While, freely floating in the ambient sky,
Sacred to Freedom’s cause, their mingled ensigns fly.
to a rose-tree and a myrtle,
Sent to a Lady.
Go, little blooming, fragrant rose,
Go to my love and take thy place;
Unfold thy leaves, thy sweets disclose,
And be an emblem of her face.
And thou, my myrtle, ever green,
Go with the rose, and there impart,
By thy unchanging, humble mien,
An emblem of thy master’s heart.
Then if, Eliza, we should twine
The myrtle and the rose together,
Would not the myrtle’s leaves combine
To guard the rose from stormy weather?
