Europe! hear the voice that rose From the chief of Freedom's foes-- When he bade war's thunders roll O'er the country of the Pole-- To his Cossacks on parade Thus the Calmuck robber said: "Mine the might, and mine the right, Stir ye, spur ye to the fight-- Bare the blade, and strike the blow To the heart's core of the foe-- Slaughter all the rebel bands Found with weapons in their hands; On! the holy work of fate Russia's God will consecrate. "'Tis decreed that they shall bleed For their dark and trait'rous deed. Poles! to us by conquest given, Ye provoke the wrath of Heaven: Therefore, purging sword and shot Use we must, and spare you not. Guardian of our northern faith, Guide us to the field of death! "Ere we've done, many a one Shall weep they ever saw the sun. Rouse the noble in his hall To a fiery festival; Dash the stubborn peasant's mirth-- Drown in blood his alien hearth; Babe or mother, never falter-- Spear the priest before the altar. Onward, and avenge our wrong! God is good, and Russia strong!" _Englishman's Magazine, No 1._ * * * * * QUEEN ELIZABETH. _From a paper on the Fine Arts of old in England, in Blackwood's Magazine._ The sex and character of Elizabeth herself was no weak ingredient in the poetic spirit of the time. Loyalty and gallantry blended in the adoration paid her; and the supremacy which she claimed and exercised over the church, invested her regality with a sacred unction that pertained not to feudal sovereigns. It is scarce too much to say, that the virgin-queen appropriated the Catholic honours of the Virgin Mary. She was as great as Diana of the Ephesians. The moon shone but to furnish a type of her bright and stainless maidenhood. To magnify her greatness, the humility of courtly adulation merged in the ecstasies of Platonic love. She was charming by indefeasible right;--a _jure divino_ beauty. Her fascinations multiplied with her wrinkles, and her admirers might have anticipated the conceit of Cowley, "The antipevistoisis of age More inflamed their amorous rage."