* * * * * This morning the following ODE for the NEW YEAR, written by Mr. WHARTON and set to Music by Mr. PARSONS, will be performed at ST JAMES’s. I. RUDE was the pile, and massy proof, That first uprear’d its haughty roof On Windsor’s brow sublime, in warlike state; The Norman tyrant’s jealous hand The giant fabric proudly plann’d; With recent victory elate, “On this majestic steep,” he cried, “A regal fortress, threatening wide, Shall spread my terrors to the distant hills, Its formidable shade shall throw Far o’er the broad expanse below, Where winds yon mighty flood, and amply fills With flow’ry verdure, or with golden grain, The fairest fields that deck my new domain, And London’s Towers that reach the watchman’s eye Shall see with conscious awe my bulwarks climb the sky.” II. Unchang’d through many a hardy race Stood the rough dome in fallen grace; Still on its angry front defiance frown’d, Though monarchs kept their state within, Still murmur’d with the martial din The gloomy gateway arch profound, And armed forms in airy rows, Bent o’er the battlements their bows, And blood-stained banners crown’d its hostile head. And oft its hoary ramparts wore The rugged scars of conflict sore, What time, pavillion’d on the neighb’ring mead The indignant Barons rang’d in bright array Their feudal bands to curb despotic sway, And, leagued a Briton’s birthright to restore, From JOHN’s reluctant grasp the roll of freedom bore. III. When lo, the King that wreathed his shield With lilies pluck’d on Cressy’s field Heav’d from its base the mouldering Norman frame. New glory cloath’d the exulting steep, The portals tower’d with ampler sweep, And Valour’s softened Genius came, Here held his pomp and trained the pall Of triumph through the trophied hall; And War was clad awhile in gorgeous weeds, Amid the martial pageantries; While Beauty’s glance adjudged the prize, And beamed sweet influence an heroic deeds. Nor long ere HENRY’s holy zeal to breath A milder charm upon the scenes beneath, Rear’d in the watery glade his classic shrine, And called his stripling squire to woo the willing Nine. IV.