Then here, fallen warrior, let the combat close,
And give the groaning world repose;

And sheathe at length the slaughtering blade,
For, see, thy rapid course pourtray'd,
One dark, ensanguin'd map appears,
With parents drench'd, and widows' tears.
In torrents these around thee roar,
And all thy garments drop with gore.
Yea, thou hast pass'd thy blazing flight,
Like a red meteor of the night.
Once vaunted freedom's specious son,
Ambition's tempting trophies shine;
And see the gaudy pageant won,
The gorgeous diadem is thine.

But what avails it, o'er thee when impends
That awful arm which lays the mighty low;
Yet a short space, and all thy glory ends,
Then dark the future, all the past is woe.

VII. 1.

Drear is thy mien, despotic power,
And poor are all thy vast domains,
Shades o'er thy purest sunshine lour,

Health rolls no transport through thy veins. No vernal breezes e'er control

Th' eternal winter of thy soul.

What can the servile herd impart,

To charm the haughty master's heart?
Her wreaths tho' adulation wave,
The mind that there imperious swells,
Betrays the miser's vaunt, and tells
The despot is himself a slave.

VII. 2.

Alone in Freedom's fostering domes,
Where streams of pure instruction flow,
Profuse, the human desart blooms,
And virtues noblest scions grow.
Behold, the star-emblazon'd peer
Is man, and man the peasant there,

There shouting Commerce spreads her wings,
And Science there unlocks her springs,
And there th' unbending patriot sways;
While through the gloom of mental night,
Keen Genius wings his soaring flight,
And all his corruscations blaze.

VII. 3.

How fair the auspicious lot where these combine!
My country! is the blessing thine?

Then guard, O guard the inestimable store,
Thy sage tny valiant sons obtain'd of yore.
And tell thy monarchs this to own,

The noblest gem that rays their envied crown.
Cleanse every stain, and every loss repair,
Bid thy fair pile in youth immortal glow,
The honour'd boon let all thy children share ;
Free as the bounding waves that round thee flow.
While thus thy liberal soul expands,

O win all hearts, unite all hands;
Then let war around thee roar,
Filial fleets protect thy shore.
Deems th' invader thee his prize,
Fierce, thy martial millions rise,
Flame all eyes, and rush all hands,
Patriot banners to unfurl;
And, on his devoted bands,
More than Russia's vengence hurl.

VIII. 1.

But come, O come, seraphic peace,

Thy beams o'er woes bleak mountains throw,
Adorn thy climes, thy realms increase,
And spread thy paradise below.
O make the spear and sword combine,
To plow the soil and prune the vine;
And o'er the blood-discolour'd plain,
Rich harvests wave, of golden grain.
Thine is the lark-enliven'd morn,
The shepherd's pipe, the warbling grove,
The daisied mead, the lowing drove,
And thine fair plenty's bounteous horn.

VIII. 2.

Thee did not rapturous angels hail,

When Bethlehem's babe appear'd, of yore?
And wonder charm'd the passing gale,
That man should harass man no more.
And art not thou to reign sublime,
Beyond the fleeting realms of time?
To ray with endless beams thy head,
When like a shadow earth is fled?
O antedate th' immortal year,
Make passion's ruthless lion mild,
And, sportive, let the harmless child
Play with the asp, dévoid of fear.

VIII. 3.

Drain the ocean to a rill,

Then shall Passion's pulse be still;
Teach the rugged rock to feel,
Man shall drop the ensanguin'd steel;
Make the tempest cease to blow,
He shall learn himself to know.
Let, great Creator, Thy paternal care,

By Reason's beam, by Revelation's blaze.
Enough has given for erring man to share,

To light his path, attract his solemn gaze, Twin suns, to these her bosom conscience turns, And warns the soul to lend a faithful ear. And mark the maze which heedless Folly spurns, Beyond the grave where mightier worlds appear. Mark the dread hour, obedient to their doom, When teeming earth, and ocean's ample womb, Shall hear, shall heave, and pour forth all their slain. When war's pale victims, from their silent beds, Shall start, shall gaze, shall lift their wond'ring heads And glow with joy, or agonize with pain. Where is thy pomp, abandom'd vice, say where ? 'Tis Virtue's robe alone, which clothes the naked there,

POLLARD HALL, GOMERSAL-THE RESIDENCE OF HERBERT KNOWLES.

HERBERT KNOWLES.

BY THE REV. R. V. TAYLOR, B.A. F.R.H.S. VICAR OF MELBECKS, RICHMOND; AUTHOR "LEEDS WORTHIES," "THE CHURCHES OF LEEDS," "YORKSHIRE ANECDOTES," ETC., ETC.

THE genius that in Knowles did brightly bloom,
Was early snapped by Death's relentless wind;
But though his ashes lie within the tomb-

A name immortal he has left behind!
A name unsullied by the taint of sin—

A name made lustrous by his heaven-sent power,
A name that others strive in vain to win-

A name all fraught with poesy's rich dower!
How sad to think his weakly frame gave way,
Just when his dawn rose radiant in the east,
How sad to think the noontide of his day

Was scarcely reached ere his young life had ceased!
Yet why muse thus? why heave the heartfelt sigh?
He is not dead, and he can never die!

EDITOR.

THIS extraordinary youth owes to a single composition of acknowledged excellence a place among the poets of this country, from which no accident is likely to remove him. He is said to have been born at Gomersal in 1797 or 1798. His family was well connected in the commercial world, but the children, including at least our author and two brothers—one of whom was the late Mr. C. J. Knowles, Q.C.,—were early left orphans and almost destitute. Young Herbert was destined for the ledger in a merchant's counting house at Liverpool, but the drudgery of the desk was so little suited to the turn and temperament of his mind that, by a series of providential circumstances, he ultimately became placed in the celebrated Grammar School of Richmond in his native county. To enable our author to attend this school a subscription of £20 a year was made on condition that his friends should contribute £30 more. Whilst at this celebrated school he evinced powers of no ordinary kind, including that poetical talent of which such an affecting and elegant memorial exists in the stanzas we have before alluded to, and which we quote.