Richmond Enquirer

The following stanzas, translated from the German of Goethe, for the North American Review, communicate with the very stamp and vigour of genius, the impressions of an individual, who, relinquishing the cold comfort of an unpromising pursuit, looks forward to warmer and more animating views. Reposing on the wisdom and kindness of Providence, his eye kindles with the blended rays of confidence and hope.

Newburyport Herald.
"ITALIAM QUERO PATRIAM."

Know'st thou the land where stately laurels bloom,
Where orange groves exhale their rich perfume,
Soft breezes float along the lucid sky,
And all is peace, and joy and harmony?

Know'st thou the land?
O thither flee.
And dwell forever there, my friend with me.

Know'st thou the hills whose towering heads of holy
Frown o'er the fairyland that smiles below:
Now wrapt in clouds, the gaze of mortals shun,
Now freeze and glisten in the summer sun?

Know'st thou those hills?
Our retreat.
The fertile Eden blooming at their feet.

Know'st thou the clime whose sons have souls of fire,
Which feel and prize the raptures of the lyre;
To which those finer sympathies belong,
That thrill and tremble at the voice of song!

Know'st thou the clime?
Come, thither flee;
That is the fittest home for you and me.

Though some lov'd names this dreary land endear.
Where winter triumphs o'er the torpid year,
And shiv'ring summer hurries thro' the sky,
As if to tantalize the longing eye;

Quit the cold soil
No thought sublime
Was ever kindled in this icy clime.

Here hate and slander fan the coals of strife;
Cast foul aspersions on the fairest life:
Spy out each speck that clouds a brother's fame.
Shout o'er his faults, and feast upon his shame.

Spurn the vile herd
Indignant fly
To some more courteous land and milder sky.