When the master of the scene,
From the cloud-work of serene
Asks her long deputed power--
Takes her sceptre--bids her cower--
Strips her of her ancient robe,
She, who once bestrode the globe--
Flings around his flaming path
Crescents of destructive wrath;
Tramples earth, and rolls in fire
Forth the thunders of his ire.
Nature sinks, no more to rise
While JEHOVAH fills the skies
With his glory high, sublime--
Death is dead, and perished time!
What a scene! when naught shall be
But Chaos and Eternity!
We are happy to find in Mr. Gough's List of Subscribers to his work, a
host of royal and noble patrons, the ministers of the country, the Earl
of Eldon, the Lord and Lady Mayoress, and a few of the Court of
Aldermen--patronage, court and city--combining to encourage Mr. Gough's
praiseworthy efforts.
* * * * *
CAPTAIN MUNDY'S VISIT TO THE TOMB OF NAPOLEON, AT ST. HELENA.
Having passed two hours on the spot where Napoleon lived and died, we
rode onwards to the vale which contains his bones: it is about half a
mile from Longwood, and within a few hundred yards of the cottage of
Madame Bertrand, to whom he indicated the spot in which he desired to
rest, should the English not allow his remains to lie on the banks of
the Seine.
Pages:
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32