The New-York Weekly Magazine, or Miscellaneous Repository Part 26

L. B.

NEW-YORK Aug. 13th, 1796.

EXTRAORDINARY BEHAVIOUR OF TWO COMMANDERS, IN A SEA FIGHT BETWEEN THE FLEETS OF CaeSAR AND POMPEY, OFF CUBA.

In the height of the action the two rivals, now grown enemies, Menas and Menacrates, happened to descry one another at the same instant.

Immediately they left every other pursuit, and with all their art, and strength of oars, threatening and shouting, rushed upon one another. The shock was terrible: Menas's s.h.i.+p had her brazen beak beat off with a part of her bow; and Menecrates's galley had a tier of her oars stripped clear off, by the board. But when the grappling irons were thrown, and the s.h.i.+ps made fast along side, there ensued the most desperate engagement that had ever been seen between two captains. It began with showers of darts, stones, arrows, spears. Then the bridges were thrown for boarding, where a cruel battle joined, foot to foot, and s.h.i.+eld to s.h.i.+eld: there was not a blow given in vain. They fought for some time, with equal fury and success, and the crews of both were generally either killed or wounded, when an accidental circ.u.mstance seemed to give Menas the advantage: his s.h.i.+p was higher than the enemy's; his men fought as from a rising ground, and the blows and shot from above gave the superiority. Yet he was run through the arm with a dart, which was got out; but his adversary, Menecrates, was pierced through the thigh by a Spanish barbed javelin, which they durst not try to move. But, though disabled from fighting, he kept the deck, encouraging his men, till seeing them all cut down, and the enemy ready to clear the deck, he sprang overboard and perished in the sea.

_NEW-YORK._

MARRIED,

On Thursday evening last, by the Rev. Dr. Foster, Mr. ELIPHALET BARNUM, to Miss PBE c.o.c.k, both of Oyster-Bay (L.I.)

The same evening, at Huntington (L.I.) by the Rev. Dr. Schench, Capt.

ISAAC HAND, of this city, to Miss AMY WEEKS, of Oyster-Bay (L.I.)

On Monday se'nnight, by the Rev. Dr. M'Knight, Mr. PATRICIUS M'MANNARS, of this city, to Mrs. SEETHE ARNOLD, formerly of Boston.

_METEOROLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS._ _From the 7th to the 13th inst._

_Days of the Month._ _Thermometer observed at 8, A.M. 1, P.M. 6, P.M._ _Prevailing winds._ _OBSERVATIONS on the WEATHER._

deg. deg. deg. 8. 1. 6. 8. 1. 6.

100 100 100 Aug. 7 67 50 73 71 E. NE. do. cloudy, lt. wd. do.

8 70 77 50 71 S. do. do. clear, lt. wd. calm.

9 71 79 25 80 W. SW. do. clear, do. do.

10 73 84 77 N. S. do. clear, do. do.

11 74 82 76 SW. do. do. cloudy, do. do.

12 74 81 76 SW. do. do. cloudy, do. clear, 13 73 80 76 50 SW. do. W. cloudy, do. do.

WHAT IS HAPPINESS?

'Tis an empty fleeting shade, By imagination made: 'Tis a bubble, straw, or worse; 'Tis a baby's hobby-horse: 'Tis a little living, clear; 'Tis ten thousand pounds a-year: 'Tis a t.i.tle, 'tis a name: 'Tis a puff of empty fame, Fickle as the breezes blow: 'Tis a lady's YES _or_ NO!

And when the description's crown'd 'Tis just _no where_ to be found.

+For the New-York Weekly Magazine.+

TO AMYNTA.

Sad, O Amynta! through these shades I rove, And pensive hear the distant cannon roar; No charming warbler cheers the dreary grove, And peace, and glad content are now no more.

'Twas to these fields our dauntless fires of yore, With their bright G.o.ddess Liberty retir'd; They fix'd her standard on the desart sh.o.r.e, The barb'rous native at their feet expir'd.

Her smiles illumin'd o'er the gloomy plains, And peace and glory were their valour's meed: The virtuous ardour still informs our swains, And still they conquer, still they dare to bleed.

Erewhile, all uninur'd to war's alarms, And good and gentle was the generous swain; But now vindictive wrath his bosom warms, He grasps the steel, and treads the sanguine plain.

The pensive Genius of our hapless land, Sits sadly weeping on a rock reclin'd: But, see Hope smiling hov'ring o'er him stand, And spread her gilded banners to the wind.

MATILDA.

CEDAR GROVE, 1777.

_For the +New-York Weekly Magazine+._

THE CONFESSION.

Olivia, though Strephon I praise, His wit and good humour approve; Though the beauty, I own, of his lays, Yet still I may not be in love.

His merit was always allow'd, By ev'ry gay nymph on the plain, And I sure must be stupid or proud, Not to join in the praise of the swain.

But when each dear look I admire, When with raptures I list to his song, When my heart it beats time to his lyre, And the minutes without him seem long; Then I fear, that not friends.h.i.+p alone, My heart could so tenderly move; Yet, I'm still at a loss, I must own-- For it cannot--it must not be love.

To her friend thus the shepherdess said, Who suspected a little deceit, With smiles she reply'd to the maid, (Resolv'd to discover the cheat,) "Suppose he was equally charm'd, "Say, could you the shepherd approve?"

The nymph of her caution disarm'd, With blushes confest--she could love.

New-York, _August 13, 1796_.

AN ELEGY WRITTEN AT SEA.