Volume Iy.
{"newspaper_name": "American watchman and Delaware advertiser.", "edition": "01", "page": "p1", "byline": ""}
SO enriched with the sterling ore of scienceand his H.
Venuoh SO ferieat there scarcely anv thing a,t.
h ~ aI emai powers OF man, beyond the reach
ms scomprenensye genius Mr. Wolfe Sir was too unass.
mh candid and tenacious Of th to claim apv literarv
composition OF which he was no! the author
l. Inc lnes Sir published by YOU, afford the s,ronoee,
internal proof that Lord Byron was NOT their .or -
had really written them, would he have acu,esced !, The
paioafos change OF the word snenlu" in the seventh
Poen woald he have used a pteposerous conv of h;
winch the TWO last lines of that admirable s,aza are con-
vered into nonsensep !. 49, WV
"And We heard, by the distant and random gun.
That the foe was suddenly firing"
That is the firing of random eAn informed them ,ba, ,,
zoe VAS suddenly frng Strange perverson of the two
last lines in The following noble s,arza =


% But half Of our heavy task was done


When the clock toll'd the hour for retiring
And we heard the distant and random gun
That the foe was suAeniy hring.''
In the NTH staza the soldiers made "to heap" in.
stead OF hollow Sir Johns grave when preparing it Tor his
nermen And IN the last sanza they are as
laying nun down in grave which they had aus heated
10 the third stanza the word enclosed is unnece ssary
changed into confined" In the first sanza tile sbs,it,
ton Of was for we and 'ramparts' for rampant has
bad effect In short, Sir is incredible that Lord Byron
would have recited very corrupt and unpoetca copy
OF the poem in question: he had either written or peruse
the original.
The following, Sir is correct copy Of the lines as thew
first appeared in the Nery 1elegrop with the exceptioe
OF single topographic error here corrected
Not drum heard, not a funeral note,


AS his corse to the rampant hurried;
Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot


Ger the grave where our hero we buried.
We buried him darkly at dead of night,


The sods with our bayonets turning,
by the struggling moonbeams misty light,


And the lantern dimly burning.


No useless coffin enclosed his breast


Nor IN sheet nor in shroud we bound him;
But he lay like warrior taking his rest.


With his martial cloak around him.
Few, and short were the prayers we said


And we spoke not word of SORROW
But we steadfasty gazed on the face that was dead
And we bitterly thought of the morrow.
We thought as we followed his narrow bed


And smootbed down his lonely pillow
That the foe and the stranger would tread DER his head
And we far away the billow
slightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone


And DER his cold ashes upbraid him,
But nothing he'll reck, if they let him sleep on


In the grave where Briton has laid him.
But half -four heavy task was done,


When the clock to'd the hour for retiring.
And we heard the distant and random gun


That the foe was sullenly firing.


Slowly and sadly we laid him down,


From the field of his fame, fresh and CORY
We carv'd not lne--we rais'd not a stone


But we left him alone with his glory!


CIV
Iam Sir, with much respect


Your obedieIt, humble Servant,


JAMES STUART,


Editor of the Brtds, Aews Letter.
beg leave to add, that received the lines enclosed in
letter transmitted to by intimate friend of MIR
Wolfe's.