'Despond not, Britain! Should this sacred hold Of freedom, still inviolate, be assailed, The high, unblenching spirit which prevailed In ancient days, is neither dead nor cold. Men are still in thee of heroic mould-- Men whom thy grand old sea-kings would have hailed As worthy peers, invulnerably mailed, Because by Duty's sternest law controlled. Thou yet wilt rise and send abroad thy voice Among the nations battling for the right, In the unrusted armour of thy youth; And the oppressed shall hear it and rejoice: For on thy side is the resistless might Of Freedom, Justice, and Eternal Truth!' This is surely genuine poetry both in form and matter; as just in its thinking as it is vivid in its imagery and classic in its language. The vein of strong sense which runs through all the poetry of Mr. Burns, and imparts to it solidity and coherency, is, we think, not less admirable than the poetry itself, and is, we are sure, quite as little common. Let the reader mark how freely the thoughts arise in the following very exquisite little piece, written in Madeira, and suggested by the distant view of the neighbouring island of Porto Santo, one of the first colonized by the Portuguese adventurers of the fifteenth century. Columbus married a daughter of Bartolomeo Perestrillo, the first governor of the island, and after his marriage lived in it for some time with his father-in-law. And on this foundation Mr. Burns founds his poem:-- PORTO SANTO, AS SEEN FROM THE NORTH OF MADEIRA. 'Glance northward through the haze, and mark That shadowy island floating dark Amidst the seas serene: It seems some fair enchanted isle, Like that which saw Miranda's smile When Ariel sang unseen. 'Oh happy, after all their fears, Were those old Lusian mariners Who hailed that land the first, Upon whose seared and aching eyes, With an enrapturing surprise, Its bloom of verdure burst. 'Their anchor in a creek, shell-paven, They dropped,--and hence "The Holy Haven" They named the welcome land: The breezes strained their masts no more, And all around the sunny shore Was summer, laughing bland. 'They wandered on through green arcade Where fruits were hanging in the shades, And blossoms clustering fair; Strange gorgeous insects shimmered And from the brakes sweet minstrelsy Entranced the woodland air. 'Years passed, and to the island came A mariner of unknown name, And grave Castilian speech: The spirit of a great emprise Aroused him, and with flashing eyes He paced the pebbled beach. 'What time the sun was sinking slow, And twilight spread a rosy glow Around its single star, His eye the western sea's expanse Would search, creating by its glance Some cloudy land afar.