PR 
 
 3617 
 
 P55A17
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 FREDERIC THOMAS BLANCHARD 
 ENDOWMENT FUND 
 
 >v
 
 POEMS 
 
 BY THE 
 
 REV. THOMAS PENROSE, 
 
 LATE RECTOR OF 
 
 BECKINGTON AND STANDERWICK, 
 
 . 
 
 SOMERSETSHIRE. 
 
 EFFUGIUNT AVIDOS CARM1NA SOLA ROGOS. 
 
 OVID. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR J. WALTER, CHARING-CROSS. 
 
 M,DCC,LXXXI.
 
 PR 
 36=/7 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 THOSE who perufe the following Poems, 
 may perhaps find themfelves fufficiently 
 interefled in them, to wifh for fome account 
 of their Author. 
 
 HE was the fon of the Reverend 
 Reftor of Newbury, Berks; a man of high cha- 
 racter and abilities, defcended from an ancient: 
 Cornifh family, beloved and refpecled by all 
 who knew him; Mr. PENROSE, jun. being in- 
 tended for the Church, purfued his ftudies with 
 fuccefs, at Chrift Church Oxon, until the fum- 
 mer of 1762, when his eager turn to the Naval 
 A 2 and 
 
 764419
 
 iv INTRODUCTION. 
 
 and Military line overpowering his attachment 
 to his real intereft, he left his College, and em- 
 barked in the unfortunate expedition againft 
 Nova Colonia, in South America, under the 
 command of Captain Macnamara. The iflue 
 was fatal. The Clive, (the largefb veffel) was 
 burnt And though the Ambufcade efcaped, 
 (on board of which Mr. PENROSE, adting as 
 Lieutenant of Marines, was wounded) yet the 
 hardfhips which he afterwards fuftained in a 
 prize floop, in which he was flationed, utterly 
 ruined his conftitution. Returning to England., 
 .with ample teftimonials of his gallantry and 
 good behaviour, he finifhed, at Hertford Col- 
 lege, Oxon, his courfe of ftudies; and, having 
 taken Orders, accepted the curacy of Newbury, 
 the income of which, by the voluntary fubfcrip- 
 tion of the inhabitants, was confiderably aug- 
 mented. After he had continued in that ftation 
 about nine years, it feemed as if the clouds of 
 
 difappointmenr,
 
 INTRODUCTION. v 
 
 difappointment, which had hitherto overfha- 
 dowed his profpefts, and tinctured his Poetical 
 Effays with gloom, were clearing away ; for he 
 was then prefented by a friend, who knew his 
 worth, and honoured his abilities, to a living 
 worth near 500!. per annum. It came how- 
 ever too late , for the ftate of Mr. PENROSE'S 
 health was now fuch as left lit tie hope, except 
 in the affiftance of the waters of BrifloL 
 Thither he went, and there he died, in 1779, 
 aged 36 years. In 1768, he married Mifs Mar/ 
 Slocock, of Newbtiry, by whom he had one 
 child, Thomas, now on the foundation of 
 Winton College. 
 
 MR. PENROSE was refpecled for his extenfive 
 erudition, admired for his eloquence, and 
 equally beloved and efleemed for his facial 
 qualities. By the poor, towards whom he was 
 liberal to his utmoft ability, he was ve- 
 nerated to the higheft degree. In oratory and 
 
 ompofitiqa
 
 vi INTRODUCTION. 
 
 compofition his talents were great. His pen- 
 cil was ready as his pen, and on fubjedls of hu- 
 mour had uncommon merit. To his poetical 
 abilities, the Public, by their reception of his 
 Flights of Fancy, &c. have given a favourable 
 teftimony. To fum up the whole, his figure 
 and addrefs were as pleafing as his mind was 
 ornamented. 
 
 SUCH was Mr. PENROSEJ to whofe memory 
 I pay this juft and willing tribute, and to whom 
 I confider it as an honour to be related. 
 
 MULTIS ILLE BONIS FLEBILIS OCCIDIT 
 
 NULLI FLEBILIOR QUAM MIHI. 
 
 J. P. ANDREWS, 
 
 The GROVE, Nov. 1781.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 ZT'O Three Ladies on the Death of a 
 
 favourite Parroquet l 
 
 On a Dif appointment 4 
 
 70 Mifs SLOCOCK 7 
 
 Elegy on leaving the Rive r of Plate 10 
 
 Elegy to the Memory of a Sifter 13 
 
 70 Mrs. PEN ROSE, on the Wedding Day 18 
 
 Flights of Fancy 21 
 
 Addrefs to the Genius of Britain 38 
 
 Effay on tie Contrarieties of public Virtue 48 
 
 ?bf Jujlice ' 64 
 
 Me
 
 viii CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 The Hermit's Vifion 70 
 
 The Field of Battle 77 
 
 Mortality 81 
 
 Friend/hip 85 
 
 The Curate. A Fragment. 87 
 
 Donnington Caftle. Ditto 93 
 
 Poverty. Ditto 97 
 
 The Herp. Ditto 1 05 
 
 Dif appointment. Ditto 109 
 
 The Navy. Ditto I12 
 
 A Fragment a XI o 
 
 Early Grey Hairs z 1 6 
 
 Bagatelle j j 7 
 
 OK /^^ Birth- Day of Mifs S. C. ib. 
 
 Verfes wrote at Brijlol ! i 9
 
 t I 
 
 POEM S, &c. 
 
 AddrefTed to Three Ladies, on the 
 
 DEATH of a favourite PARROO^UET. 
 
 TTX E E P from your hallow'd, filent fliades 
 Attend, attend, ye tuneful maids ; 
 
 Ye Mufes, hade along. 
 Infpire the tender, moving lay, 
 For furely fuch a mournful day 
 
 Demands a ferious fong. 
 
 B See
 
 See where with Pity's force oppreft, 
 (While rifing forrows heave each breaft) 
 
 Three gentle Sifters weep. 
 See how they point with flreaming eyes, 
 Where PARROQJJETTA flumb'ring lies, 
 
 Her laft, eternal fleep. 
 
 In vain the pride of Beauty's bloom, 
 The vivid dye, the varied plume 
 
 O'er her fair form were fpread : 
 In vain the fcarlet's blufhing ray, 
 Bright as the orient beam of day, 
 
 Adorn'd her lovely head. 
 
 Love, beauty, youth, perfection, all 
 
 Together undiftinguifh'd fall 
 
 Before the oppofing Fates. 
 The lifping tongue, the filver hairs, 
 One common ruin overbears, 
 
 One common lot awaits. 
 
 Then
 
 C 3 3 
 
 Then calm, dear Maids, your woes to peace, 
 With unavailing forrow ceafe 
 
 Your Favourite to deplore ; 
 For know, the time will furely come 
 Whenj/ou (tho* now in beauty's bloom) 
 
 When^oa lhall charm no more. 
 
 Learn then your moments to employ 
 In virtuous love, in Hymen's joy, 
 
 Ere yet thofe moments fly ; 
 For Fate has doom'd this lot fevere, 
 The brighteft Belle, the lovelieft Fair, 
 
 Like Parroquetes, muft die. 
 
 Written
 
 C 4 J 
 
 Written Friday Evening, February 5, 1762, 
 in the Cloyfters of Chrift Church, Oxon ; 
 
 On being difappointed of going to the 
 
 ASSEMBLY at NEWBURY, BERKS. 
 
 T O U D howl the winds around this awful pile, 
 
 A dufky light the pale-ey'd moon-beams fhed ; 
 While I amid the long-drawn cloyfter'd He, 
 Silent and fad the letter'd pavement tread. 
 
 Where, low in earth ah ! never more to rife, 
 
 Unnotic'd, unregarded, and unknown, 
 
 Full many a (hrouded ftudent fleeping lies, 
 O'er whom ftill weeps the monumental ftone. 
 
 Here,
 
 r s ] 
 
 Here, as I pace the hallow'd gloom along, 
 Where at this hour no other foot dares rove, 
 
 Quick on my mind what dear ideas throng, 
 How heaves my heart, and melts with faithful love. 
 
 See, fee my CHLOE rifes to my view, 
 In all the pride of youth and Virtue's charms ! 
 
 Swift as the winds the fair one I purfue, 
 But clafp an empty phantom to my arms. 
 
 Methinks I fee the dance's circling round, 
 
 The chearful mufick, hark ! methinks, I hear ! 
 
 The viol fweet, and hautboy's gladfome found, 
 And fprightly tabor flrike my wond'ring ear. 
 
 But ah ! again the pleafing dream is gone ; 
 
 Swift as the gales, fee, fee, it flies away; 
 And leaves me wretched, darkling, and alone 
 
 Amidft this melancholy fcene to ftray. 
 
 63 O ! hear,
 
 [ 6 ] 
 
 O ! hear, ye Gods, accept my humble pray'r ! 
 
 Grant me, O ! grant my heart's fond, belt defire ; 
 Give to my faithful arms, my conftant Fair ; 
 
 Give this nor wealth, nor honours I require. 
 
 To
 
 C 7 ] 
 
 To Miss SLOC O CK. 
 
 Written on board the Ambufcade, Jan. 6th 1763, 
 a fhort Time before the Attack of Nova Colo- 
 nia do Sacramento, in the river of Plate. 
 
 ' I ^ H E Fates ordain, we muft obey ; 
 
 This, this is doom'd to be the day ; 
 
 The hour of war draws near. 
 The eager crew with bufy care 
 Their inftruments of death prepare, 
 And banifh every fear. 
 
 The martial trumpets call to arms, 
 Each breaft with fuch an ardor warms, 
 
 As Britons only know. 
 The flag of battle waving high, 
 Attradls with joy each Briton's eye; 
 
 With terror ftrikes the foe. 
 
 B 4 Amidft
 
 C 8 ] 
 
 Amidft this nobly awful fcene, 
 Ere yet fell (laughter's rage begin, 
 
 Ere Death his conquefts fwell, 
 Let me to Love this tribute pay, 
 For POLLY frame the parting lay ; 
 
 Perhaps my laft farewell. 
 
 For fince full low among the dead, 
 Muft many a gallant youth be laid, 
 
 Ere this day's work be o'er : 
 Perhaps e'en I, with joyful eyes 
 That faw this morning's fun arife, 
 
 Shall fee it fet no more. 
 
 My love that ever burnt fo true, 
 That but for thee no wifhes knew ; 
 
 My heart's fond, bed defire ! 
 Shall be remember'd e'en in death, 
 And only with my lateft breath, 
 
 With life's laft pang expire. 
 
 And
 
 [ 9 3 
 
 And when, dear Maid, my fate you hear, 
 (Sure love like mine demands one tear, 
 
 Demands one heart-felt figh) 
 My paft fad errors, O forgive, 
 Let my few virtues only live, 
 
 My follies with me die. 
 
 But, hark ! the voice of battle calls; 
 Loud thund'ring from the tow'ry walls 
 
 Now roars the hoftile gun, 
 Adieu, dear Maid ! with ready feet, 
 I go prepar'd the worft to meet, 
 
 Thy will, O God, be done ! 
 
 ELEGY
 
 ELEGY 
 
 On leaving the River of Plate, after the unfuccefsful 
 Attack of Nova Colonia do Sacramento, by the 
 Lord Clive of 64 Guns, the Ambufcade of 40, and 
 the Gloria of 38 ; in which the former was unfor- 
 tunately burnt, with the greateft part of her Crew ; 
 and the two latter obliged to retire in a very fhat- 
 tered condition. 
 
 r. 
 
 *T IT T HILE the torn veflel Hems her lab'ring way, 
 Ere yon blue hills fink ever from my view; 
 Let me to forrow raife the tribute lay ; 
 And take of them my long, my laft adieu. 
 
 II. 
 Adieu ! ye walls ; thou fatal flream farewel ; 
 
 By war's fad chance beneath whofe muddy wave 
 Full many a gallant youth untimely fell. 
 Full many a Britain found an early grave. 
 
 III. Beneath
 
 [ II ] 
 
 III. 
 
 Beneath thy tide, ah ! filent now they roll, 
 
 Or flrew with mangled limbs thy fandy more ; 
 The trumpet's call no more awakes their foul ! 
 
 The battle's voice they now mail hear no more. 
 
 IV. 
 In vain the conftant wife and feeble fire, 
 
 Expectant wifh their lov'd return to fee ; 
 In vain their infants' lifping tongues enquire, 
 
 And wait the ilory on their father's knee. 
 
 V. 
 Ah ! nought avails their anxious, bufy care ; 
 
 Far, far, they lie, on hoftile feas they fell ; 
 The wife's, fire's, infant's joy no more to mare, 
 
 The tale of glorious deeds no more to tell. 
 
 VI. 
 Learn then, ye Fair, for others woes to feel, 
 
 Let the foft tear bedew the fparkling eye ; 
 When the brave perifli for their country's weal, 
 
 'Tis pity's debt to heave the heartfelt figh. 
 
 VII. Ah
 
 [ 12 ] 
 
 VII. 
 Ah ! glorious DRAKE ! far other lot was thine, 
 
 Fate gave to thee to quell the hoftile pride ; 
 To feize the treafures of POTOSI'S mine, 
 
 And fail triumphant o'er LA PLATA'S tide. 
 
 VIII. 
 But Providence, on fecret wonders bent, 
 
 Conceals its purpofes from mortal view ; 
 And Heaven, no doubt with fome allwife intent, 
 
 Deny'd to numbers what it gave to few. 
 
 ELEGY
 
 C 13 ] 
 ELEGY 
 
 To the Memory of Mifs MARY PENROSE, 
 
 Who died December 18, 1764, in the 
 Nineteenth Year of her Age. 
 
 TTE ARD ye the bell from yonder dufky tower ? 
 Deep, deep it tolls the fummons of the dead ; 
 And marks with fallen note the folemn hour, 
 That calls MARIA to her earthy bed. 
 
 O ! come, ye mournful virgin train, attend, 
 With mufing ftep the hallow'd pjace draw near, 
 
 View there your once-lov'd, happy, blooming friend, 
 Now filent, flumb'ring on the fable bier. 
 
 Come
 
 [ 14 3 
 
 Come ye, who join'd in friendftiip's facred tie. 
 With her engag'd in pleafure's guiltlefs fcene ; 
 
 Who fhar'd with her the tender, focial joy ; 
 
 Wove the gay dance, or trod the flow'ry green : 
 
 Mark here, O ! mark, how chang'd, how aher'd lies 
 The breaft that once with youth's warm tide beat high ; 
 
 Read your own fate in her's ; in time be wife, 
 And from her bright example learn to die. 
 
 Like drooping lillies cropt by wint'ry wind, 
 
 For fate has doom'd the hour when dieyou muft, 
 
 Muft leave the world's fantailic dreams behind, 
 And fleep, and mingle with your parent duft. 
 
 Say, arejowr forms with youth's foft graces drefl? 
 
 Say, are they ting'd with beauty's brighteft bloom ? 
 So once was her's -by you by all confeft, 
 
 'Till death untimely fwept her to the tomb. 
 
 Her
 
 C 15 ] 
 
 Her eyes beam'd out how innocent, how meek ! 
 
 At whofe rebuke vice fhrunk abafti'd and pale ; 
 Like vernal Rofes blufh'd her modeft cheek, 
 
 Like them as lovely, and like them as frail. 
 
 How was fhe fkill'd the fofteft breafts to move ! 
 
 Of hardeft hearts the paffions rough to bend ! 
 How was flie fldll'd to win the general love ! 
 
 How form'd to blefs the hufband or the friend ! 
 
 With meek-foul'd charity, with pitying hands, 
 To mifery oft her little flore fhe gave ; 
 
 Now fhe herfelf our flowing tears demands, 
 And bids our pious drops bedew her grave. 
 
 There on her dully couch in firm repofe, 
 
 Deaf to our call, the clay-cold flumb'rer lies ; 
 
 Her beauty faded like the blafted rofe, 
 
 Mute her fweet tongue, and clos'd her radiant eyes. 
 
 Full
 
 C 16 ] 
 
 Full many an hour of agonizing pain 
 
 She, patient fufferer, bore her lot fevere j 
 
 Well did the anguifh of her foul reltrain, 
 Nor dropt one female, one repining tear. 
 
 v 
 
 'Midft life's laft pangs Religion lent her aid, 
 And wip'd with lenient hand her mifty eyes ; 
 
 With bleft affurance chear'd the pain-worn maid, 
 And bad her hopes high-foaring reach the Ikies. 
 
 There now, enroll'd with heavenly angels bright, 
 Whofe hallow'd hymns their Maker's glories raife, 
 
 She mines, refulgent in the blaze of light, 
 
 And fwells with raptur'd voice the note of praife. 
 
 Look down, bleft Saint, O ! turn a pitying eye ! 
 
 If yet in Heav'n a brother's name be dear : 
 In the dread hour of danger be thou nigh, 
 
 And lead me far from vice's baneful fnare. 
 
 Teach
 
 [ '7 ] 
 
 Teach me, whate'er my future lot (hall be, 
 To God's juft Will my being to refign : 
 
 Teach me to fail thro' life's tempeftucus fea: 
 And like thy lateft parting hour be mine. 
 
 T O
 
 C 18 J 
 
 T O 
 MY DEAREST W I F E> 
 
 O N O U R 
 
 WEDDING-DAY. 
 
 
 
 'Tp H E happy Morn's arriv'd at laft, 
 That binds our nuptial union fait; 
 And knits our plighted vows in one, 
 With bonds that ne'er can be undone. 
 Can I be backward then, to pay 
 The tribute of this joyful day? 
 Can I refufe my voice to raife, 
 And hymn to God the fong of praife ? 
 No furely gratitude demands 
 This humble action from my hands, 
 And bids me blefs that God who gave 
 Safe paflage o'er the ftormy wave, 
 
 Who
 
 C 19 1 
 
 Who turn'd the fliafts of war afide, 
 
 And blefs'd me with fo lov'd a Bride. 
 
 O ! be that feafon ne'er forgot, 
 
 When Hope itfelf could flatter not, 
 
 When doubts were all my foul's employ, 
 
 Nor dar'd I paint the prefent joy. 
 
 But yet, my Love, be mine the blame, 
 
 Thy goodnefs ever was the fame; 
 
 The fault was mine, mifguided youth ! 
 
 When Folly held the place of Truth. 
 
 And Vice and Error's fyren fmile, 
 
 My artlefs bofom did beguile. 
 
 What, though by heedlefs heat raided 
 
 To war, and foreign climes I fled, 
 
 Forfook thy love, and peaceful eafe, 
 
 And plough'd, long plough'd the Southern feas ; 
 
 Yet, though unworthy of thy care, 
 
 Thy kind, dear, love, purfu'd me there. 
 
 And 'midfl the battle's horrid ftrife, 
 
 Thy tender pray'r preferv'd my life. 
 
 Cz God
 
 God heard thy pray'rs, my heart's lov'd queen, 
 
 His fhield prote&ed me unfeen, 
 
 His favour kept me fafe from harms, 
 
 And lodg'd me in thy faithful arms. 
 
 Be *t then my taflc, with grateful breaft 
 
 To hum thy ev'ry care to reft, 
 
 And make thee, while thy love furvives, 
 
 The happieft of all happy Wives. 
 
 Yes, yes, my dear, the nuptial vow 
 
 Shall ever bind as ftrong as now ; 
 
 My duty I mall ne'er forego, 
 
 No change, no other wifh I'll know j 
 
 But ftill I'll prove to life's laft end, 
 
 The kindeft Hufband, trueft Friend. 
 
 FLIGHTS
 
 FLIGHTS 
 
 O F 
 
 FANCY. 
 
 V I Z. 
 
 THE HELMETS, 
 
 CAROUSAL OF ODIN, 
 
 MADNESS, 
 
 ADDRESS TO THE GENIUS 
 OF BRITAIN.
 
 C *3 ] 
 
 THE 
 
 HELMETS, 
 
 A FRAGMENT. 
 
 *The Scene of the following Event is laid in the neighbour- 
 hood of Donnington Caftle, in a Hou/e buiit after the 
 Gothic tafte upon a fpot famous for a bloody encounter 
 between the Armies of CHARLES and the Parliament. 
 
 y&e Prognoflication alludes to Civil DiJJention, which fame 
 have foretold would arife in England, in confequence of 
 the dijputes with America. 
 
 'Hp W A S miJnight every mortal eye was clos'd 
 Thro' the whole manfion fave an antique 
 
 Crone's, 
 
 That o'er the dying embers faintly watch'd 
 The broken fleep (fell harbinger of Death) 
 Of a fick Boteler. Above indeed 
 In a drear gall'ry (lighted by one lamp 
 Whofe wick the poor departing Senefchall 
 Did clofely imitate,) pac'd flow and fad 
 
 C 4 The
 
 r 24 ] 
 
 The village Curate, waiting late to fhrive 
 
 The Penitent when 'wake. Scarce fhew'd the ray 
 
 To fancy's eye, the pourtray'd chara&ers 
 
 That grac'd the wall On this and t'other fide 
 
 Sufpended, nodded o'er the fteepy ftair, 
 
 In many a trophy fbrm'd, the knightly groupe 
 
 Of helms and targets, gauntlets, maces ftrong, 
 
 And horfes' furniture brave monvaients 
 
 Of ancient Chivalry. Thio' the'ftain'd pane 
 
 Lowgleam'd the Moon not bright but of fuch pow'r 
 
 As marked the clouds, black, threatning over head, 
 
 Full mifchief- fraught j from thefe in many a peal 
 
 Growl'd the near thunder flafn'd the frequent blaze 
 
 Of light'nirg blue. While round the fretted dome 
 
 The wind fung furly : with unufual clank 
 
 The armour fhook tremendous : On a couch 
 
 Plac'd in the oriel *, funk the Churchman down : 
 
 For who, alone, at that dread hour of night, 
 
 Could bear portentous prodigy ? 
 
 * Oriel. A projefling Window. 
 
 " I hear,
 
 " I hear it," cries the proudly gilded Cafque 
 (Fill'd by the foul of one, who erft took joy 
 In flaught'rous deeds) " I hear amidft the gale 
 " The hoflile fpirit mouting once once more 
 " In the thick harveft of the fpears we'll mine 
 '* There will be work anon." .. 
 
 .1 " I'm 'waken'd too," 
 
 Replied the fable Helmet (tenanted 
 
 By a like inmate) " Hark ! I hear the voice 
 
 " Of the impatient Ghoits, who ftraggling range 
 
 " Yon fummit, (crown'd with ruin'd battlements 
 
 " The fruits of civil difcord) to the din 
 
 " The Spirits, wand'ring round this Gothic pile, 
 
 " All join their yell the fong is war and death 
 
 ?' There will be work anon." 
 
 Call armourers, ho ! 
 
 .*' Furbifh my vizor clofemy rivett up 
 
 " I brook
 
 C 26 ] 
 
 ' I brook no dallying" 
 
 " Soft, my hafty friend," 
 
 Said the black Beaver, " Neither of us twain 
 
 " Shall ihare the bloody toil War-worn am I, 
 
 Bor'd by a happier mace, I let in fate 
 
 " To my once mafter, fince unfought, unus'd 
 
 ' Penfile I'm fix'd yet too your gaudy pride 
 
 ' Has nought to boaft, the fafhion of the fight 
 
 " Has thrown your gilt, and ftiady plumes afide 
 
 " For modern foppery ; Hill do not frown, 
 
 " Nor lour indignantly your fteely brows, 
 
 ' We've comfort left enough The bookman's lore 
 
 " Shall trace our fometime merit ; in the eye 
 
 " Of antiquary tafte we long fliall mine : 
 
 " And as the Scholar marks our rugged front, 
 
 " He'll fay, this CRESSY faw, that AGINCOURT : 
 
 " Thus dwelling on the prowefs of his Fathers, 
 
 " He'll venerate their fhell. Yet, more than this, 
 
 " From our inactive ftation we mall hear 
 
 "The
 
 *' The groans of butcher'd brothers, flirieking plaints 
 " Of ravifh'd maids, and matrons' frantic howls, 
 " Already hov'ring o'er the threaten'd lands 
 " The famiih'd raven fnuffs the promis'd feaft, 
 " And hoarflier croaks for blood 'twill flow." 
 
 " Forbid it, Heaven ! 
 
 " O fliield my fufFering Country ! fhield it," pray'd 
 The agonizing Prieft. 
 
 THE
 
 [ 28 ] 
 THE 
 
 CAROUSAL OF ODIN, 
 
 TT* ILL- the honey'd bev'rage high, 
 
 Fill the fculls, 'tis ODIN'S cry: 
 Heard ye not the powerful call, 
 Thund'ring thro' the vaulted hall ? 
 " Fill the meath, and fpread the board, 
 " Vaflals of the griefly Lord." 
 
 The portal hinges grate, they come 
 
 The din of voices rocks the dome. 
 
 In ftalk the various forms, and dreft 
 
 In various armour, various veft, 
 
 With helm and morion, targe and (hield, 
 Some quivering launces couch, fome biting maces wield: 
 All march with haughty ftep, all proudly make the creft. 
 
 The
 
 C 29 ] 
 
 The feaft begins, the fcull goes round, 
 Laughter fhouts the fhouts refound. 
 The guft of war fubfides E'en now 
 The grim chief curls his cheek, and fmooths his rugged 
 brow. 
 
 ' Shame to your placid front, ye men of death !" 
 Cries HILDA, with diforder'd breath. 
 Hell echoes back her feoff of fhame 
 To the inactive rev'ling Champion's name. 
 ' Call forth the fong," fhe fcream'd ; the minftrels 
 
 came 
 
 The theme was glorious war, the dear delight 
 Of fhining beft in field, and daring moft in fight. 
 
 " Joy to the foul," the Harpers fung, 
 
 " When embattl'd ranks among, 
 
 " The Heel-clad Knight, in vigour's bloom, 
 
 (" Banners waving o'er his plume) 
 
 " Foremofl rides, the flower and boaft 
 
 " Of the bold determin'd hoft !" 
 
 With
 
 [ 30 I 
 
 With greedy ears the guefts each note devour'd, 
 Each ftruck his beaver down, and grafp'd his faithful 
 
 fword. 
 
 The fury mark'd th' aufpicious deed, 
 And bad the Scalds proceed. 
 
 " Joy to the foul ! a joy divine ! 
 
 " When conflicting armies join ; 
 
 " When trumpets clang, and bugles found ; 
 
 " When ftrokes of death are dealt around*; 
 
 " When the fword feafts, yet craves for more ; 
 
 " And every gauntlet drips with gore." 
 
 The charm prevail'd, up rufh'd the madden'd throng, 
 Panting for carnage, as they foam'd along, 
 Fierce ODIN'S felf led forth the frantic band, 
 To fcatter havock wide o'er many a guilty land. 
 
 MADNESS.
 
 MADNESS. 
 
 Q* W E LL the clarion, fweep the firing, 
 
 Blow into rage the Mufe's fires ! 
 All thy anfwers, Eccho, bring, 
 Let wood and dale, let rock and valley ring, 
 'Tis MADNESS* felf infpires. 
 
 Hail, awful MADNESS, hail! 
 Thy realm extends, thy powers prevail, 
 Far as the voyager fpreads his 'ventrous fail. 
 Nor belt nor wifeft are exempt from tbee ; 
 Folly Folly's only free. 
 
 Hark !-
 
 [ p ] 
 
 Hark ! To the aftonifh'd ear 
 
 The gale conveys a ftrange tumultuous found. 
 
 They now approach, they now appear, 
 Pbrensy leads her Chorus near, 
 And Daemons dance around. 
 
 Pride Ambition idly vain, 
 Revenge, and malice fwell her train,/ 
 Devotion warp'd Affeftion croft 
 Hope in difappointment loft 
 And injur'd Merit, with a downcaft eye 
 (Hurt by negled) How ftalking heedlefs by. 
 
 Loud the fhouts of MADNESS rife, 
 Various voices, various cries, 
 Mirth unmeaning caufelefs moans, 
 Burfts of laughter heart-felt groans 
 All feem to pierce the flties. 
 
 Rough
 
 [ 33 ] 
 
 Rough as the wintry wave, that roars 
 On THULE'S defart fhores, 
 Wild raving to the unfeeling air, 
 The fetter'd Maniac foams along, 
 (Rage the burthen of his jarring fong) 
 In rage he grinds his teeth, and rends his ftreaming 
 hair. 
 
 No pleating memory left forgotten quite 
 
 All former fcenes of dear delight, 
 
 Connubial love parental joy 
 No fympathies like thefe his foul employ, 
 But all is dark within, all furious black defpair. 
 
 Not fo the love-lorn Maid, 
 By too much tendernefs betray'd; 
 Her gentle breaft no angry paflion fires, 
 But flighted vows poflefs, and fainting, foft defires. 
 
 She
 
 C 34 ] 
 
 She yet retains her wonted flame, 
 All but in reafon, ftill the fame. 
 Streaming eyes, 
 Inceflant fighs, 
 
 Dim haggard looks, and clouded o'er with care, 
 Point out to Pity's tears, the poor diilra&ed Fair. 
 Dead to the world her fondeft wifhes croft, 
 She mourns herfelf thus early loft. 
 
 Now, fadly gay, of forrows paft ftie fings, 
 Now, penfive, ruminates unutterable things. 
 She ftarts (he flies who dares fo rude 
 On her fequefter'd fteps intrude ? 
 
 'Tis he the MOMUS of the flighty train- 
 Merry mifchief fills his brain. 
 Blanket-rob'd, and antic crown'd, 
 The mimick monarch fldps around j 
 
 Big
 
 r 35 ] 
 
 Big with conceit of dignity he fmiles, 
 And plots his frolics quaint, and unfufpe&ed 
 wiles. 
 
 Laughter was there but mark that groan, 
 
 Drawn from the inmoil foul ! 
 *' Give the knife, Demons, or the poifon'd bowl, 
 *' To finifti miferies equal to your own." 
 
 Who's this wretch, with horror wild f 
 'Tis Devotion's ruin'd child. 
 Sunk in the emp'iafis of grief, 
 Nor can he feel, nor dares he afk relief. 
 
 Thou, fair Religion, waft defign'd, 
 Duteous daughter of the flues, 
 To warm and chear the human mind, 
 To make men happy, good, and wife. 
 
 D 2 To
 
 [ 36 3 
 
 To point where fits, in love array'd, 
 Attentive to each fuppliant call, 
 The God of univerfal aid, 
 The God, the Father of us all. 
 
 Firft (hewn by thee, thus glow'd the gracious fcene, 
 'Till SuperfHtion, fiend of woe, 
 Bade doubts to rife, and tears to flow, 
 
 And fpread deep fliades our view and heaven between.' 
 
 Drawn by her pencil the Creator Hands, 
 
 (His beams of mercy thrown afide) 
 
 With thunder arming his uplifted hands, 
 
 And hurling vengeance wide. 
 Hope, at the frown aghaft, yet ling'ring, flies, 
 And dafh'd on Terror's rocks, Faith's beft dependence 
 lies. 
 
 But
 
 [ 37 ] 
 
 But ah ! too thick rhey croud, too clofe they throng, 
 Objedls of pity and affright ! 
 
 Spare farther the defcriptive fong 
 Nature fhudders at the fight. 
 Protract not, curious ears, the mournful tale, 
 
 But o'er the haplefs groupe, low drop Companion's veil. 
 
 ADDRESS
 
 [ 38 J 
 
 ADDRESS 
 
 T O T H E 
 
 GENIUS OF BRITAIN. 
 
 f~^ O M E, genial fpirit, to the earneft call 
 
 Of the true Patriot ! wherefoe'er thou art, 
 O ! mark the fummons ! whether airy borne 
 In hafty progrefs, pleas'd thou ikimm'ft the edge 
 Of the white bulwark; from the fteepy height 
 Kenning the azure wave*, thy own domain ; 
 While on the pebbled fhore, fcarce heard fo high v 
 The furf breaks foaming. In the diftant view 
 Full frequent pafs the womby labourers 
 Of Commerce, or the gaily-floating pride 
 
 Of
 
 [ 39 3 
 
 Of naval armament. Or whether deep 
 
 In midland occupation glad thou feeft 
 
 The various labours of the chearful Loom ; 
 
 Or Agriculture whittling at the plough. 
 
 Whether the Anvil-notes engage thy flay, 
 
 (Tho* diflbnant, yet mufic to the ear 
 
 Of him who knows his country ;) or the hum 
 
 Of the thick crouded Burfe; come and attend 
 
 To BRITAIN'S general good! 'Tis not the Ihout, 
 
 The din of Clamour, drunk with factious rage, 
 
 That hails thee ; nor the well-diflembling tongue 
 
 Of maflc'd Sedition, whofe envenom'd rant 
 
 Urges the Croud to madnefs. Not to thefe 
 
 Lift heedful. 'Tis the cool perfuafive voice 
 
 Of Reafon wooes. Quick then with brighteft fmiles 
 
 Of mild Humanity adorn thy cheek : 
 
 Straight o'er the Atlantic furge, with anxious hafte, 
 
 Seek out thy penfive daughter ; once as dear 
 
 D4 And
 
 [ 40 J 
 
 And clofely twining round thy milky breaft, 
 
 As was AUGUSTA'S felf. Yet now eftrang'd 
 
 Unhappily eftrang'd ! O by the hand 
 
 Take the fair Mourner ; from her tearful eye 
 
 Wipe the dint cloud of Sorrow ; to the throne 
 
 Prefent her reconciling. 'Tis a boon, 
 
 Molt glorious boon, that to our lateft fons 
 
 Will render thy foft influence doubly dear. 
 
 Look back, unmov'd by prejudice, look back 
 
 To Memory's mirrour. Pidlur'd there we fee 
 
 The happy times of Concord ; when the arm 
 
 Of Manufacture ply'd the bufy talk 
 
 In various employment : thro' the eye 
 
 Beam'd Chearfulnefs, while all around her fons 
 
 Glad Induftry pour'd forth from Plenty's horn 
 
 Abundant wealth : hence to the crouded port 
 
 Pafs, Thought, and mark the ants of Commerce ftore 
 
 The fpacious hold j light ran the toilfome day r 
 
 Cheer'd
 
 [ 4* 3 
 
 Cheer'd by the hope of the honeft recompence. 
 The bark unmoor'd, fee how the feftive crew 
 Urg'd on her fpeedy courfe ; not fad to quit 
 Their native foil, for in thofe happier days 
 AMERICA was home. There on the fhore 
 Stood Expectation, friendly by her fide 
 Smil'd Hofpitality, with open breaft, 
 Pleas'd to receive the fea-beat traveller : 
 Cherifh'd, enrich'd that traveller return'd 
 Blefling his double country. Thefe thy fweets, 
 Fraternal intercourfe ! But ah! how chang'd, 
 How fadly chang'd is now the prefent fcene, 
 Pregnant with future griefs ! In fuilen ftate 
 Beneath the gloomy roofs dull Silence reigns, 
 Which erft in better times, refounded quick 
 With ftrokes of aftive bufinefs : at the forge, 
 Extinft, in penfive poverty the fmith 
 Defponding leans, incapable to earn 
 
 The
 
 t 42 J 
 
 The morrow's morfel, whi^e with craving eyd 
 Look up the wife and child, but look in vain, 
 Faint with defpair. O'er the deferted loom 
 The fpider forms her web, poor evidence 
 Of human floth or want. Fain would the Mufe 
 Supprefs the mournful truth ; yet forc'd to tell, 
 She weeps while me relates How are they fall'n. 
 The fons of Labour, from their profp'rous ftate 
 Degraded ! How, alas ! the crouded jail 
 Swarms with inhabitants, that once had hope 
 Of fairer evenings to their toilfome morn ! 
 Fill'd is each cell of forrow and of pain 
 With daily vi&ims : debtors part, entomb'd 
 While living, and condemn'd to linger on 
 To life's laft ebb, unpity'd, unreliev'd : 
 Part felons, ftamp'd the foes of focial life 
 By Penury's rough hand, and driven to roam 
 The fpoilers of the wealthy. To diftrefs 
 
 Abandon'd,
 
 C 43 3 
 
 Abandon'd, fcarce the ruin'd mind perceive? 
 
 It's own peculiar forrows ; but finks down 
 
 The creditor's fix'd prey or to the law 
 
 Submits the needful facrifice. Sad fate 
 
 Of thofe, whom Heaven defign'd their country's 
 
 The artizans of (kill. Nor on the banks 
 
 Of venerable THAMES does woe prefide 
 
 Lefs perilous ; THAMES, the prolific fire 
 
 Of BRITAIN'S wealth : along his winding mores,. 
 
 Unoccupy'd, moor'd to deftru&ive floth, 
 
 Whole fleets lie periming, a foreft, true, 
 
 But ftill a blafted foreft : gloomy (talks 
 
 The unlhipp'd mariner, and meditates 
 
 On foreign fervice. Should fome child of Hope, 
 
 Lur'd by the pleafing retrofpeft, once more 
 
 Spread his broad fail acrofs the well-known fea ; 
 
 Should he, amidft the wonders of the deep, 
 
 Give way to Fancy's dream, and fondly truft 
 
 To
 
 L 44 ] 
 
 To meet his wonted greeting : how recoils 
 
 The vifionary voyage ! Not on the beach 
 
 Sit waiting Love and Amity to grafp 
 
 His hand, and lead him to their open bower. 
 
 No thronging crowds his profter'd mart attend 
 
 With various traffic : fled affrighted fled, 
 
 Are all the little deities, that once 
 
 Kind, o'er the focial and commercial board 
 
 Hung hovering : in their room, fad change ! appear 
 
 Stern Refolution, Hoick Stubbornnefs, 
 
 And Independence ; in his hand each holds 
 
 His weapon, jealous of the paffing breeze, 
 
 And deaf to ancient friendmip. In this paufe, 
 
 This folemn paufe, that halts 'tween peace and war, 
 
 O fly, bleft fpirit, in the royal ear 
 
 Whifper forgivenefs; 'midft the high behefts 
 
 Of juftice, let our ever-gracious Sire 
 
 Forget not Mercy j 'tis the brighteft gem 
 
 That
 
 [ 45 ] 
 
 That decks the monarch's crown : nor thou, great 
 
 GEORGE, 
 
 Difdain the Mufe's prayer ; moft loyal flie 
 In mild fubjedlion down the tide of life, 
 Steers her light fkiff. Urg'd by the plaintive call 
 Of meek Humanity, O ! pardon, now 
 If warm me pleads her caufe. The favage race, 
 That prowl the defert, or that range the wood, 
 Are won to tamenefs by the attentive care 
 Of the kind gentle keeper. Shame not man, 
 Nor fay his heart's more fell : 'Tis eafier far 
 To footh by tendernefs, than atfe by pow'r. 
 Quit then the bloody purpofe, nor perfift 
 To conquer, when the field is fairer gain'd 
 By reconciling. To the ungrateful toil 
 Commiffion'd, fliuddering beats the foldier's heart. 
 Not fo, when from the plough in eager hafte, 
 Rous'd by the call to arms, the fhouting bands 
 
 Rufh'd
 
 Rufh'd emulous, reluflant none, nor held 
 
 By loves or home ; each burning to Aipply 
 
 The wafle of war, and anxious to advance 
 
 The common glory. Spiritlefs now and fad 
 
 Embark the deftin'd troops : the veteran brave, 
 
 That dauntlefs bore the variegated woes 
 
 Of long-protrafted war : the veteran brave, 
 
 That won on many a plain the bloody palm 
 
 Of Vidory, amidft the dying groans 
 
 Of flaughter'd thoufands firmly undifmay'd ; 
 
 Now hangs in tender thought his honeft front, 
 
 Averfe to flay his brother: at the word, 
 
 (A<wful, yet f acred to his patient ear) 
 
 He lifts indeed the Heel, while down his cheek 
 
 The big drop flows, nor more he dreads the wound 
 
 That bores his vitals, than the ftroke he gives. 
 
 Say therefore, " Sword beJhtatWd," fair in the fky, 
 
 Now cloudy, then the dawn of joy will fpread 
 
 Its
 
 [ 47 1 
 
 Its warm reviving ray and every eye 
 
 That's miity now with forrow, will grow, bright, 
 
 And fmile away its tears: the funny beam 
 
 Of mild returning Confidence will cheer 
 
 The kindred countries: Commerce, on her couch 
 
 Now drooping wounded, then will rear her head, 
 
 Charm 'd into health ; and from her various {lore 
 
 Will cull the Aveetelt flowers, and form a wreath 
 
 To crown the temples of her PATRIOT KING. 
 
 ESSAY
 
 ESSAY 
 
 O N T H E 
 
 CONTRARIETIES 
 
 O F 
 
 PUBLIC VIRTUE. 
 
 O C I E T Y, like thong of leather, 
 Faft binds in clutters men together ; 
 And though it cannot be forgotten, 
 That fome are ripe, and fome are rotten, 
 Yet, let it ftill be underftood, 
 They All promote the General Good. 
 
 For
 
 [ 49 ] 
 
 For this the Patriot's fire arifes, 
 That glows at every trying crifis, 
 Wiih each inferior ftrife, and ftir too, 
 Whence fpring they f but from Public Pirtue. 
 Tho' different plans, like ftreams, 'tis true, 
 By different rills their courfe purfue ; 
 Tho' oft they feem, to mortals blind. 
 Repugnant to the end defign'd. 
 Appearing, as by error led, 
 To flow through many a mazy bed ; 
 Yet ftill at length we fee them glide, 
 Meandering to the common tide. 
 
 Smile on, ye grave, in deep derifion, 
 I fhrink not from my propofition, 
 But ftill aver a J Britons merit 
 The praife of Patriotic Spirit ; 
 As far as e'er their power can ftretch, 
 From N defcending down to Ketch* 
 
 E That
 
 [ 5 J 
 
 That ftatefmen guard the public weal, 
 
 We all muft own, for all muft feel : 
 
 'Tis their's to watch with ardour keen, 
 
 And careful drive the grand machine; 
 
 To charm the paflengers from fretting, 
 
 And keep the 'whole from overfetting. 
 
 But ftill inferior hands may bring 
 
 Some little help, may oil a fpring, 
 
 May point, " There, round that corner turn ye," 
 
 And wifli the folks a pleafant journey. 
 
 eir ufe, there's nothing plainer, 
 From this each traveller's a gainer; 
 And, tho' the merits be but few, 
 Let's' give to every imp his due. 
 This focial/r* tho' all pofiefs, 
 In fome there's nothing blazes lefs ; 
 So many a clofe attempt is made, 
 O'er the bright flame to hold a fhade, 
 
 To
 
 C 5i J 
 
 To keep their worth from being known, 
 While confcience hugs itfelf alone : 
 As fome of alms will never boaft. 
 And look leaft pleas'd when giving ato/f, 
 
 But, Cynics, fpare the odd behaviour. 
 If well you walk, ne'er blame the Pavior. 
 Should you, when wand'ring in the night, 
 Some Scoundrel urge to fet you right, 
 Now, tho' he blafts you with a curfe, 
 You'll take the better from the worfe, 
 Nor think the greeting ill-beilow'd, 
 If while he damns, he mews the road; 
 But ftraight jog home, no more affrighted, 
 Than if an honeft watchman lighted. 
 
 Learn then the left to cull from evil, 
 As Saints take warning by the Devil: 
 
 E 2 And,
 
 [ 5* ] 
 
 And, if the Mufe, whofe judgment nice i, 
 
 Shews Public Good in private Vices, 
 
 The holieft tongue muft ceafe to ftir, 
 
 But inftant own without demur, 
 
 While modeil matrons flart at Drury, 
 
 The Thief's as ufeful as the Jury, 
 
 Since both the mind flrong truths imprefs on, 
 
 And teach the world an aweful leffon. 
 
 Our various Patriots then revere, 
 
 Their hearts are found, though manners queer: 
 
 Tho' fome to outward vifion fcem 
 
 To fport in Phrenxy's antic dream. 
 
 The aims of each laborious felf are, 
 
 Intended for the public welfare. 
 
 This glorious end alone purfuing, 
 
 They, bold like Curtius, laugh at ruin ; 
 
 For this, if we their fchemes unravel, 
 
 They drink, whore, mortgage, game, and travel. 
 
 Enthufiaft
 
 [ 53 ] 
 
 Enthufiaft in the paths of Science, 
 BANKS bade the ftormy waves defiance j 
 Fair Nature's volume to explore, 
 He * fought <with feas unfail'd before, 
 And earn'd, by Argonautic toil, 
 Frefh honours for his native foil : 
 Him Wifdom lov'd, thus worthy found, 
 And Britain hail'd him as fhe c rmvn d, 
 
 But fay " Can one Adventurer's claim 
 " Exhauft the trumpet voice of fame ? 
 " No garland has my country now, 
 " To bind another pilgrim's brow ? 
 " Be mine the merit," Florio cries, 
 And crofs the Channel gaily flies } 
 
 * With fuch mad feas the daring GAM A fought. 
 
 THOMSON* 
 
 E 3 Thro'
 
 [ 54 J 
 
 Thro' thick and thin, drives mad and giddy on, 
 
 Now here, now there, now in meridian, 
 
 (Unlefs perchance when Louis fail,) 
 
 A meteor with a fiery tail. 
 
 Think you his aim in each manoeuvre, 
 
 Is but to fcare th' aftonifh'd Louvre? 
 
 Ah no ! in all the diffipation 
 
 He loves the int'reft of his nation, 
 
 And, mindful of the Patriot rule, 
 
 For our injlruftion plays the fool. 
 
 Connubial faith, th' unbroken vow, 
 How bled ! Who dares to difallow ? 
 Lothario ilrong in this agrees, 
 And urges every wife he fees; 
 Sure if the attack mould fail upon her. 
 The fex is happy in her honour, 
 And, if his ftratagems furprizeher, 
 Her fall may make th' unfleady wifer. 
 
 The
 
 [ 55 ] 
 
 The hufband from his doze may ftart, 
 
 And, tho 1 he long difdain'd her heart, 
 
 May look the thief with vifage fierce on, 
 
 Who dar'd defile the flighted per/on. 
 
 " Draw draw to fet the matter right," 
 
 But is Lothario wrong to fight ? 
 
 No, Public Virtue fwells his veins, 
 
 Whoever falls, his country gains : 
 
 This none can doubt, your feelings afk, all ; 
 
 For 'tis a gain to lofe a rafcal. 
 
 When trade unclogg'd can turn it's wheels, 
 The influence kind the kingdom feels ; 
 Each hand, in fit degree and meafure, 
 Contributes to the /a//r treafure. 
 Thefe truths NORTHUMBERLAND convince, 
 Who lives in jufl magnificence, 
 And, while his bounty wide diflills, 
 For England 't welfart pays his bills. 
 
 &4 But
 
 C 56 3 
 
 But different notions COTTA ftrike, 
 For why fliou'd Patriots judge alike? 
 It Ihocks his greatnefs to defcribe 
 How Pea/ants gall the Courtier's kilt, 
 An upitarc race, that no one knows, 
 Who yet have folly to fuppofe. 
 That boneft wealth is better far 
 Than guilt and luant beneath a ftar. 
 " Let every man preferve his ftation : 
 " What's rule without fubordination ?" 
 'Till wifer heads confefs the flaw, 
 And plan a fumptuary law, 
 Impatient fome redrefs to get, 
 See COTTA plunges into debt, 
 (From Bailiffs fafe) and much commends 
 This practice to his hungry friends: 
 So war is wag'd with every trader, 
 Dear Honour ! left the rogues degrade her: 
 
 And
 
 [ 57 ] 
 
 And what contrivance is more fare 
 To bumble, than to keep them poor ? 
 
 When in contention (harp of old, 
 As legendary tsles unfold, 
 Two * riva 1 Cities defign'd 
 Tr e'r chrvel prefents to mankind, 
 With envy kindling, warm enforcer! 
 This gave an olive, that a courfer. 
 
 Thus fome, as other plans have mift 'em, 
 Revere the vegetable Jyftem* 
 Aad think their virtue grounded fure 
 In growth of timber, and manure. 
 Hence, up the flope plantations fpread, 
 And crown the hill's once dreary head ; 
 Hence, downward as the vale defcends, 
 The harveft ocean wide extends ; 
 
 Minerva and Neptune. 
 
 Glad
 
 [ 58 ] 
 
 Glad Britain how thefe profpe&s charm her ! 
 
 Her Medal * decks the Patriot Farmer, 
 
 Who counts his flock, and hopes he's ihewn, 
 
 His country's riches in his own. 
 
 Not fo the 'Squire of boift'rous fpirit, 
 
 Who, ftudious of equeftrian merit, 
 
 To thrifty care makes no pretences, 
 
 But fcours the fields, and breaks the fences. 
 
 Vain may the tenant urge his fpeeches, 
 
 New till the foil, and mend the breaches, 
 
 Yet no reftraint his landlord clogs j 
 
 Devoted as a prey to dogs, 
 
 He hates ignoble frugal ways, 
 
 And wild in the career of praife, 
 
 Cries, as he fpurs his foaming fteed ; 
 
 " To me Old England owes the breed." 
 
 * Medals given by the Society for the encouraging Arts and Sciencei. 
 
 Do
 
 C 59 3 
 
 Do various loads the nation prefs ? 
 'Tis noble fure to make them lefs : 
 This Vigil does, and labours hard 
 To cog the die, or palm the card: 
 Profufe inpackt, as round they lie, 
 He often turns th' applauding eye ; 
 And, though he cheats, thinks nothing of it, 
 Since his dear country mares the profit. 
 Keen Cenfure then her frown relaxes, 
 Without confumption what are taxes? 
 
 Taxes ! But " why" THERSITES growls, 
 " Mult every bird be ftripp'd by owls ? 
 " Shall two or three, in pamper'd eafe, 
 " Lay contributions as they pleafe, 
 " While all the reft, in ftation humble, 
 " Tame bear the lofs, nor dare to grumble ?" 
 
 Peace,
 
 [ 60 ] 
 
 Peace, Snarler, Know, with Heady foul 
 The Patriot can applaud the whole ; 
 And juflly crowns with equal praife 
 The man who levies, and who payt. 
 
 'Tis true, the Dolor of finances 
 By noftrums oft his fund enhances : 
 But then his {kill in phyfic's great, 
 He knows the ailments of the flate, 
 Intent, as fuits the fad difafter, 
 To cup, prick, purge, or fpread a plaifler. 
 A plethora's now the cafe, there's needing 
 Strift regimen, and copious bleeding. 
 He therefore afts the fubjeft belt, 
 Who fcorns the order to conteft; 
 But claps a calm contented face on, 
 And yields the molt to fill the bafon. 
 
 To
 
 6i 
 
 To give his part, thro' various ftages 
 The Manufacturer engages ; 
 And thinks there's merit at bis door, 
 Whofe bufinefs feeds the lab'ring poor, 
 While to the keen Excifeman's eyes 
 Accumulating duties rife. 
 
 " Curfe on the drudge's dirty toil," 
 Exclaims my haughty lord of foil, 
 (Tho' oft his title-deeds may reft 
 Safe in the Us'rer's iron cheft ;) 
 " Unpaid let other calls remain, 
 " I'll flill uphold my menial train ; 
 " Oeconomy ! 'tis bafe to court her,' 
 c< Each * Footman is a ftate-fupporter, 
 " To baulk the caufe a coward's fin is, 
 " I'll bravely pay the hundred guineas." 
 
 * New tax on fervants. 
 
 Deep
 
 [ 62 ] 
 
 Deep Bilo foaks, and boafts the reafon, 
 " Wine's the'beft antidote to treafon, 
 " Our bumpers large revenues bring, 
 " I drink my Claret for my King." 
 Yet ftill his zeal by far furpafles, 
 Who empties firft, then breaks theglafis*. 
 
 How Fungus glows with Patriot pride; 
 While credit pours an even tide ! 
 Thus buoy'd along, thro' fairy fcenes, 
 He clubs his mare to 'ways and means ; 
 At length the dun's inceflant clamour 
 Dooms every chattel to the hammer ; 
 Still there's decorum in his fall, 
 Since now the f Aufiion clofes all. 
 
 Smile, Walpolis ghoft, untaught to feign, 
 For private folly's public gain : 
 
 * New tax on glafs wares. f Ditto on Auftions. 
 
 And
 
 [ 63 ] 
 
 And bid old Cecil fmooth his brow, 
 If England thrives, no matter bo<w. 
 
 Vefpatia* thus, the bee of money, 
 From every weed could gather honey : 
 Tho* fqueamifti Titus leer'd and laugh'd, 
 The wifer father bleft the craft, 
 And, when his bags the cajh was fure in, 
 Ne'er thought the tribute fmelt si urine. 
 
 THE
 
 
 64 ] 
 
 
 
 THE 
 
 
 J 
 
 U S T I 
 
 C E 
 
 
 A 
 
 
 
 C A N T A 
 
 T A. 
 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 O M PO S'D, the Juftice fat in eafy ftate ; 
 
 A croud aflembling, thunder'd at the gate : 
 The Porter, to his poft accuftom'd long, 
 Firftafk'd the caufe, then introduc'd the throng : 
 'Midft thefe, a Sire enrag'd, two culprits brought. 
 Her (Welling waift proclaim'd the damfel's fault ; 
 The young Seducer look'd abaih'd and pale, 
 While thus the Father urg'd his angry tale : 
 
 SONG.
 
 65 
 
 SONG. 
 
 See that wretch, bafe ends purfuing, 
 Low has brought my child to ftiame 
 
 See in her my honour's ruin, 
 Death of honour, death of fame ! 
 
 Well to match her ripening beauty 
 Oft I've form'd the fondeft fchemes; 
 
 But this fall, this breach of duty, 
 Turns my hopes to idle dreams. 
 
 Curfe the traitor's late repenting 
 Vengeance, vengeance I demand- 
 
 War recruits is ever wanting- 
 Let him die on foreign land. 
 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 He paus'd for rage his fault'ring voice opprelt 
 The magiftrate the trembling youth addreft, 
 
 F Difpell'd
 
 [ 66 ] 
 
 Difpell'd his terrors with a rifing fmile 
 And thus the youth began in artlefs flile. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 If the laws I have offended, 
 Here for pardon let me fue : 
 
 'Twas a crime I ne'er intended, 
 Love's the only crime J knew. 
 
 Love I plead, (be this prevailing) 
 Love in early youth begun ; 
 
 We had never known this failing, 
 Had yon tyrant made us one. 
 
 On our knees we oft have pray'd him, 
 Oft have own'd our mutual flame: 
 
 Wretched therefore if we've made him, 
 On himfelf muft reft the blame. 
 
 R E C I-
 
 f 67 3 
 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 He fpoke, and on his partner turn'd his eye, 
 Who deep encrimfon'd made this fhort reply. 
 
 AIR. 
 
 Gracious Sir, this faithful youth 
 Well has fpoke the voice of truth. 
 Kind difpenfer of the laws, 
 Shew compaffion to our caufe 
 Hear me on my bended knee- 
 Spare bis life, and pity me* 
 
 RECITATIVE. 
 
 The Judge not long in ufelefs filence fate, 
 But inftant rofe, and thus announc'd their fate. 
 
 A I R. 
 
 Relentlefs parent, fmce to me 
 Is now referr'd the laft decree, 
 
 F z Mark
 
 [ 68 ] 
 
 Mark and obferve my juft command, 
 1 doom him not to foreign land, 
 But to a fentence mild and kind 
 Be both at Hymen's altar join'd; 
 And may their paffion ne'er decay, 
 'Till ebbing life Ihall fink away. 
 
 RECITATIVE. 
 The lift'ning croud the fair award approv'd, 
 The youth t'ey favour'd, and the maid they lov'd. 
 While thanks and praifes did their tongues employ, 
 They thus in chorus teftified their joy. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Happy pair, who thus have found 
 Friendship, when you fear'd a foe! 
 
 While the year revolves around, 
 May your blifs revolving flow ! 
 
 Parent*,
 
 E 69 ] 
 
 Parents, to your children's pleafure 
 Be your clofe attention paid ; 
 
 Nor for titles, pomp, or treafure, 
 Cut the knot that Jove has made. 
 
 And to thee, thou judge of peace, 
 Our beft gratitude is due ; 
 
 May each couple love like thefe 
 May each Juftice ad like you ! 
 
 F 3 THE
 
 [ 70 I 
 
 THE 
 
 HE RMI T's VISION, 
 
 TV/T I L D L Y beam'd the queen of night, 
 
 Sailing thro' the grey ferene : 
 Silver'd by her modeft light, 
 But faintly fhone the folitary fcene, 
 With deep'ning ftiadows mixt, and glitt'ring breaks 
 between. 
 
 High on a cliffy fteep, o'erfpread 
 With many an oak, whofe ancient head 
 Did in its neighbour's top itfelf inwreath, 
 And call an umbered gloom and folemn awe beneath. 
 
 High
 
 C 7' J 
 
 High on a cliffy deep a Hermit fat, 
 Weighing in his weaned mind 
 The various turns of mortal fate, 
 The various woes of human kind; 
 Meek Pity's pearl oft ftarted in his eye, 
 And many a prayer he pour'd, and heav'd a frequent 
 figh. 
 
 Silent was all around, 
 Save when the fwelling breeze 
 Convey'd the half-expiring found 
 Of diftant waterfalls, and gently-waving trees. 
 
 No tinkling folds, no curfew's parting knell 
 
 Struck the fequefter'd Anchoret's ear ; 
 Remote from men he fcoop'd his narrow cell, 
 For much he had endur'd, no more he look'd to fear. 
 
 F4 But
 
 [ 7* ] 
 
 But (till, the world's dark tempefts paft, 
 What tho' his fkiff was drawn to more, 
 And fhelter'd in retirement faft, 
 Yet oft his voyage he'd ponder o'er; 
 Oft in reflection life's rough ocean view, 
 How mount the ftormy waves, how hard to ilruggle 
 through ! 
 
 Before his fage revolving eyes 
 Various phantoms feem'd to rife, 
 Now retreat, and now advance, 
 And mazy twine the myftic dance. 
 
 Joy led the van, in rapture wild, 
 Thoughtlefs of the diftant day; 
 Sweet Complacence, angel mild, 
 Hied from the frantic pageant far away; 
 For (he was Wifdom's favour'd child, 
 In revelry untaught to ftray.
 
 C 73 ] 
 
 Joy led the van her painted veft, 
 
 Flowing to th' obfequious wind, 
 Hope had feiz'd, with flutt'ring breaft, 
 
 And eager tripp'd behind. 
 
 Gay ihe ftepp'd, till bufy Fear 
 Whifper'd in her flartled ear 
 " How many a cup is dafh'd with gall, 
 " How many an evil may befall !" 
 Aghait awhile Ihe heard the ruthful fong, 
 Then falter feiz'd the robe, and haftier danc'd along. 
 
 Clofe Love follow'd in the train, 
 Love, the queen of pleafing pain : 
 Placid now in dear delight, 
 Madd'ning now in deep affright, 
 And prying keen with jaundic'd eye, 
 PiercM by the fting of hell-born Jealoufy. 
 
 'Twixt
 
 [ 74 ] 
 
 'twixt Pride and Luft of Grandeur led, 
 
 Next Ambition rear'd her head, 
 "By Pbrtnay urg'd o'er every bar to rife, 
 
 And feize the vifionary prize : 
 Wild as ihe rufh'd* flie fcorn'd to mark the ground, 
 Yet many a flip we made, and many a fall fhc found. 
 
 Pale as the waning moon, 
 With tear-ftain'd cheek and flupid gaze, 
 
 Withering before life's funny noon, 
 Grief crept along in fad amaze, 
 By many a ftroke to keeneft mifery brought, 
 Now in a fhower diffolv'd, now loft in inward thought. 
 
 As the rous'd Tiger gaunt and fell 
 Kindles into cruel rage, 
 
 With
 
 [ 75 3 
 
 With flafhing glare, and murd'rous yell- 
 Thus Anger pad th' ideal ftage, 
 Too fierce for wounds or groans to feel, 
 Onward fhe fprung, and fliook the bloody ileel. 
 
 While far behind, with dent pace and flow, 
 
 Malice was content to go, 
 
 Patient the diftant hour to wait, 
 And hide with courteous fmiles the blackeft bate. 
 
 Secret long her wrath fhe'd keep, 
 'Till time difarm'd the foe, then drove her poniard 
 deep. 
 
 t To Malice link'd, as near allied, 
 Envy march'd with baneful lour; 
 
 Detraflion halted by her fide, 
 Upheld by Fal/ebood's feeble power. 
 
 No
 
 [ 76 ] 
 
 * No more ! no more !" the holy Seer exclaim'd, 
 
 * Paffions wild, unbroke, untam'd, 
 '*- Muft fure the human heart o'erthrow, 
 " And plunge in all the energy of woe. 
 
 *' Grant then the boon, all-gracious Heav'n, 
 " Let reafon ever take the helm ; 
 " Left, by unheeded whirlwinds driv'n, 
 * The pinnace frail fome guft may overwhelm ! 
 
 " Hang out the friendly lamp, that clear 
 " From Error's perils fhe may fafely fteer ; 
 Till death fhall bid each trial ceafe, 
 " And moor the fhatter'd bark in peace !" 
 
 THE
 
 [ 77 3 
 
 THE 
 
 FIELD OF BATTLE. 
 
 A I N T L Y bray'd the battle's roar 
 Diilant down the hollow wind ; 
 Panting terror fled before, 
 
 Wounds and death were left behind. 
 
 The War-fiend curs'd the funken day, 
 That check'd his fierce purfuit too foon; 
 
 Wlrle, fcarcely lighting to the prey, 
 Low hung, and lour'd the bloody moon. 
 
 The
 
 r 
 
 The Field, fo late the hero's pride, 
 Was now with various carnage fpread ; 
 
 And floated with a crimfon tide, 
 That drench'd the dying and the dead. 
 
 O'er the fad fcene of drearieft view, 
 Abandon'd all to horrors wild, 
 
 With frantic ftep Maria flew, 
 Maria, Sorrow's early child; 
 
 By duty led, for every vein 
 
 Was warm'd by Hymen's pureft flame: 
 With Edgar o'er the wintry main 
 
 She, lovely, faithful, wanderer, came. 
 
 For well ihe thought, a friend fo dear 
 In darkeft hours might joy impart; 
 
 Her warrior, faint with toil, might chear, 
 Or foothe her bleeding warrior's fmart. 
 
 Tho'
 
 [ 79 3 
 
 Tho* look'd for long in chill affright, 
 (The torrent burfting from her eye) 
 
 She heard the fignal for the fight- 
 While her foul trembled in a figh 
 
 She heard, and clafp'd him to her breaft, 
 Yet fcarce could urge th' inglorious flay ; 
 
 His manly heart the charm confeit 
 
 Then broke the charm, and rufh'd away. 
 
 Too foon in few but deadly words, 
 Some flying ftraggler breath'd to tell, 
 
 That in the forernoft ftrife of fwords 
 The young, the gallant Edgar fell. 
 
 She preft to hear me caught the tale 
 At every found her blood congeal'd ; 
 
 With terror bold with terror pale, 
 She fprung to fearch the fatal field. 
 
 O'er
 
 8o 
 
 O'er the fad fcene in dire amaze 
 
 She went with courage not her own- 
 
 On many a corpfe (he caft her gaze 
 And turn'd her ear to many a groan. 
 
 Drear anguifti urged her to prefs 
 
 Full many a hand, as wild me mourn'd ; 
 Of comfort glad, the drear carefs 
 
 The damp, chill, dying hand returned. 
 
 Her ghaflly hope was well nigh fled 
 When late pale Edgar's form fhe found, 
 
 Half-bury'd with the hoftile dead, 
 And bor'd with many a grifly wound. 
 
 She knewme funk the night-bird fcream'd, 
 The moon withdrew her troubled light, 
 
 And left the Fair, tho' fall'n fhe feem'd 
 To worfe than death and deepeft night. 
 
 M O R T A-
 
 [ 8i ] 
 
 MORTALITY. 
 
 ' f I ^ WAS the deep groan of death 
 -* That (truck th' affrighted ear ! 
 The momentary breeze, the vital breath 
 Expiring funk ! Let Friendfhip's holy tear- 
 Embalm her dead, as low he lies. 
 To weep another's fate, oft teaches to be wife. 
 
 Wifdom ! fet the portal wide, 
 Call the young, and call the vain, 
 Hither lure prefuming Pride, 
 With Hope miftruftlefs at her fide, 
 And Wealth, that chance defies, and greedy Thirft of 
 Gain. 
 
 G Call
 
 [ S2 ] 
 
 Call the group, and fix the eye, 
 Shew how awful 'tis to die. 
 Shew the portrait in the duft : 
 Youth may frown the picture's juft, 
 And tho' each nerve refills yet yield at length they 
 muft. 
 
 Where's the vifage, that awhile 
 Glow'd with glee and rofy fmile ? 
 Trace the corpfe, the likenefs feek 
 
 No likenefs will you own. 
 Pale's the once focial cheek, 
 And wither'd round the ghaftly bone. 
 
 Where are the beamy orbs of fight, 
 
 The windows of the foul ? 
 No more with vivid ray they roll 
 
 Their funs are fet in night. 
 
 Where's
 
 3 
 
 Where's the heart, whofe vital power 
 
 Beat with honefl rapture high, 
 That joy'd in many a friendly hour, 
 
 And gave to mis'ry many a figh ? 
 
 Froze to a {lone ! And froze the hand 
 Whofe grafp affeftion warm convey'd j 
 
 Whofe bounty fed the fuppliant band, 
 And nourifh'd Want with timely aid. 
 
 Ah ! what remains to bring relief, 
 To filence agonizing grief, 
 To foothe the breaft in tempeft toft, 
 That thrilling wails in vain the dear companion loft ? 
 
 'Tis the departed worth, tho' fure 
 
 To galh the wound, yet works the cure: 
 
 G 2 'Tis
 
 [ 84 ] 
 
 *Tis Merit's gift alone to bloom 
 O'er the dread horrors of the tomb ; 
 To dry the mourner's pious ftream, 
 And foften forrovv to efteem. 
 
 Does Ambition toil to raife 
 Trophies to immortal praife ? 
 Truft not, tho' ftrong her paffions burn, 
 Trull not the marble's flattering ftile, 
 Tho' Art's beft fkill engrave the urn- 
 Time's cank'ring tooth ihall fret the pile. 
 
 FRIEND-
 
 r 85 
 
 FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 T"VISTILL'D amidft the gloom of night, 
 Dark hangs the dew-drop on the thorn ; 
 'Till, notic'd by approaching light, 
 It glitters in the fmile of morn. 
 
 Morn foon retires, her feeble pow'r 
 
 The fun outbeams with genial day, 
 And gently, in benignant hour, 
 
 Exhales the liquid pearl away. 
 
 Thus on Affliction's fable bed, 
 
 Deep forrows rife of faddeft hue j 
 Condenfing round the mourner's head, 
 
 They bathe the cheek with chilly dew. 
 
 G 3 Tho*
 
 C 86 ] 
 
 Tho* Pity fliews her dawn from Heaven, 
 When kind fhe points affiftance near ; 
 
 To Friendjhip's Suit alone 'tis given 
 To foothe and dry the mourner's tear. 
 
 THE
 
 [ 87 ] 
 THE 
 
 U R A T 
 
 A " F R A G M E N T. 
 
 /^V E'R the pale embers of a dying fire, 
 
 His little lampe fed with but little oile, 
 The Curate fate (for fcantie was his hire) 
 And ruminated fad the morrowe's toil. 
 
 n. 
 
 'Twas Sunday's eve, meet feafon to prepare 
 The ftated ledlures of the coming tyde ; 
 
 No day of refte to him, but day of care. 
 
 At manie a Church to preach with tedious ride. 
 
 G 4 Before
 
 C 88 ] 
 
 III. 
 Before him fprede, his various fermons lay, 
 
 Of explanation deepe, and fage advice ; 
 The harveft gained from manie a thoughtful daye. 
 
 The fruit of learninge, bought with heavy price. 
 
 IV. 
 
 On thefe he caft a fond but tearful eye, 
 
 Awhile he paufed, for forrowe flopped his throte, 
 
 Arroufed at lengthe, he heaved a bitter fighe, 
 And thus complainde, as well indeed he mote : 
 
 V. 
 
 <f Hard is the fcholars lot, condemned to fail 
 " Unpatronized o're life's tempeftuous wave; 
 
 " Clouds blind his fight ; nor blows a friendly gale, 
 " To waft him to one port except the grave. 
 
 Big
 
 f 89 3 
 
 VI. 
 * f Big with preemptive hope, I launch'd my keele, 
 
 '* With youthful ardour, and bright fcience fraughte ; 
 *' Unanxious of the pains, long doom'd to feel, 
 
 ** Unthinking that the voyage might end in noughte. 
 
 VII. 
 
 " Pleafed on the fummer-fea I daunced a-while, 
 " With gay companions, and with views as fair; 
 
 " Outftripp'd by thefe, I'm left to humble toil, 
 * My fondeft hope abandon'd in defpair. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 " Had my ambitious mind been led to rife 
 " To higheft flights, to Crofier and to Pall, 
 
 *' Scarce could I mourn the miffinge of the prize, 
 " For foaringe wimes well deferve their fall.
 
 [ 90 1 
 IX; 
 
 * No tow'ring thoughts like thefe engag'd my breaft, 
 ' I hoped (nor blame, ye proud, the lowly plan) 
 
 " Some little cove, fome parfonage of reft, 
 " The fcheme of duty fuited to the man ; 
 
 X. 
 
 * Where, in my narrow fphere fecure, at cafe, 
 " From vile dependence free, I might remain, 
 
 " The guide to good, the counfellor of peace, 
 " The friend, the fhepherd of the village fwain. 
 
 XI. 
 
 ' Yet cruel fate denied the fmall requeft, 
 
 " And bound me faft, in one ill-omened hour, 
 
 " Beyond the chance of remedie, to refte 
 
 " The flave of wealthie pride and prieftlie pow'r. 
 
 "Oft
 
 C 91 3 
 xir. 
 
 ' Oft as in ruflet weeds I fcour along, 
 
 " In diftant chappels haftilie to pray, 
 " By nod fcarce noticed of the paffing thronge, 
 
 " 'Tis but the Curate, every childe will fay. 
 
 xnr. 
 
 " Nor circumfcribed in dignitie alone 
 
 " Do I my rich fuperior's vafTal ride ; 
 " Sad penurie, as was in cottage known, 
 
 " With all its frowns, does o'er my roof prefide. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 *' Ah ! not for me the harveft yields its ftore, 
 
 " The bough-crown'd ihock in vain attracts mine eye j 
 
 *' To labour doom'd, and deitin'd to be poor, 
 " Ipafs the field, I hope not envious, by. 
 
 " When
 
 [ 9* ]' 
 XV. 
 
 " When at the altar furplice-clad I (land, 
 
 " The Bridegroom's joy draws forth the golden fee ; 
 
 " The gift I take, but dare not clofe my hand j 
 " The fplendid prefent centres not in me." 
 
 DONNING-
 
 93 ] 
 
 DONNINGTON CASTLE. 
 
 "O LOW the loud trump of war, wide to the gale 
 
 Unfurl the painted banner, from the breaft 
 Tear the mild fympathies of charity, 
 And fan the battle's fire. What boots it now 
 
 If Briton fight with Briton ! Is there one 
 
 To whom thefe ihouts give joy ? can there be one 
 
 So fteel'd, fo frantic with envenom'd rage 
 
 Of party feud, as to forego the mark 
 
 Of fair humanity ? Recklefs to pluck 
 
 The bloffoms from the olive, and dye them red 
 
 Deep in a brother's blood ? If fuch there be 
 
 (Cain's
 
 [ 94 ] 
 
 (Cain's heir legitimate) O let him turn 
 
 His fierce eye to the defolated crown 
 
 Of many a batter'd hill, to many a heap 
 
 Of ruins fcatter'd thro* this worried land, 
 
 Scenes once of civil flrife, but now become 
 
 Familiar to the lowlieft village fwain. 
 
 If there be one within this fertile vale 
 
 (Fertile thro' peace) who yearns for ads of blood, 
 
 Direft his view, Divine Benevolence ! 
 
 To yonder awful, but inftrudlive pile 
 
 Of grandeur fallen, on the indented ridge 
 
 Stands eloquent the fiege-worn monitor, 
 
 That fpeaks from every (tone ; from ev'ry wound 
 
 That bor'd its flrong, yet vain refilling fide 
 
 Truth tells a folemn leffon. To the ear 
 
 Of warm poetic fancy fpeaks the ghoft 
 
 Of Chaucer, prime of bards, who caught the fouls 
 
 Of
 
 C 95 3 
 
 Of Ladles born for love, and e'en could lure 
 For fome foft feafon the flout rugged hearts 
 That fill'd the fteel-clad warriors of his age, 
 And made them liften to his Syren voice 
 Half-angry yet unwilling to be gone. 
 'Tis Chaucer hails, from the drear ivyM tower, 
 The gaze of idle vifitants, but once 
 The feat of all the Mufes, where his court 
 . Kept Phoebus, gladden'd at the pow'rful call 
 That woo'd him to our Albion : round hin play'd 
 Old Comus jocular, with many a glee 
 Promoting focial laughter ; many a Grace 
 Stole in amidft the chearful throng, and footh'd 
 The bafhful maiden, while with blufliing joy 
 She hearken'd to her all-accomplifhed Knight. 
 Chaucer, the prime of bards ! with feftive fong 
 Oft has he charm'd the variegated groupe 
 
 WitHa
 
 C 96 3 
 
 Within yon ancient walls, walls that no more 
 Refound with jocund minftrelfy. The owl 
 There fhrieks her ominous note, the raven hoarfe 
 Joins in the horrid difcord : direful change ! 
 
 POVERTY
 
 t 97 ] 
 
 POVERTY. 
 
 TT I E thee hence ! thou fpeftre foul, 
 
 Fiend of mifery extreme ; 
 Hence ! nor o'er yon dwelling fcowl 
 With Waiting eye, while to thy haggard fcream 
 The midnight wolf accords his famifh'd howl, 
 And madd'ning wretches loud in agony blafpheme. 
 
 Hence \ from the artlefs bard keep wide aloof- 
 Fly rather to bis hated roof, 
 Who, deaf to Mercy's foft controul, 
 Can fteel with rugged edge the foul ; 
 Plund'ring, unmov'd the orphan's cry can hear, 
 Or from the widow'd lip the fcanty morfel tear: 
 
 H But
 
 C 98 3 
 
 But pafs him by, the nvooer mild 
 Of Genius, friend to all, Naturis ingenuout child. 
 
 Conitant toil, and coarfeft fare, 
 
 Long indeed the village hind 
 
 In filent apathy may bear, 
 While o'er his brow Health's rofy wreath is tvvin'd : 
 
 While his paflions fluggifh flow, 
 
 Borne on life's pacific round ; 
 
 Nor aims his higheft wifh to know 
 Beyond the hamlet's pale, his grandfire's fartheft 
 bound. 
 
 Yet, rous'd to feeling, much he mourns his lot, 
 When the pale vifage of Difeafe 
 Frowns on his humble cot, 
 
 When finks his drooping front, and bend his feeble 
 knees. 
 
 There,
 
 [ 99 ] 
 
 Y&ere, oft, unheeded on the ground, 
 May Sicknefs, Age, and Want be found, 
 United all in one forlorn abode, 
 Of grief each fingly own'd a melancholy load. 
 
 From the damp and earthy bed 
 The fufferer lifts his aching fight in vain : 
 
 Defpair hangs weeping o'er his head : 
 Sad pallet this for eafe ! fad comforter in pain ! 
 
 Fly, ye rich, unbidden fly, 
 Pour your oil, and pour your wine : 
 
 Wipe from tears the mifly eye ; 
 Charity's a ray divine 
 A ray that lights the foul with brighteft beam to (hine* 
 
 Why withhold the little boon ? 
 Seems it much, ye fons of wealth, 
 
 H a Glitt'ring
 
 [ ICO ] 
 
 Glitt'ring moths of funny noon 
 
 Plum'd with gold of joy and health ? 
 O think ! a blaft may come, yourfelves may perifh foon! 
 
 Yet, different in this common (late, 
 What different care attends your happier fate ! 
 
 Fading you may fure receive 
 All wayward fancy craves, all foothing art can give: 
 
 While, with equal wants oppreft, 
 The child of Mifery heaves his lab'ring bread, 
 
 Cheer'd by no kind affiiling powers, 
 Scarce with fuch crumbs fuflain'd as hungry Health 
 devours. 
 
 Melt, in foft compaffion melt, 
 Ye gentle, wail th' unletter'd peafant poor : 
 Yet keener far, as more feverely felt, 
 
 f 
 
 Does
 
 [ lor ] 
 
 Does Penury haunt th' ill-omen'd fcholar's door; 
 He calls for all your tears ; give thsfe, if nothing more. 
 
 Warm'd his foul with genial flame 
 In youth's gay fpring was bid to rife, 
 
 To pant for fcience, thirft for fame, 
 And hope fair Merit's golden prize. 
 
 Much he hcp'd, for many a tale 
 
 Of praife was echo'd to his ear; 
 Full many a promife (flatt'ring gale !) 
 
 Foretold the wifh'd-for port was near. 
 
 Awhile it blew, then dy'd away, 
 
 Like breezes with declining clay, 
 And lefc him, vvond'ring wretch ! forfaken quite, 
 In Poverty's dead calm, and Difappointment's night. 
 
 H What
 
 [ 102 J 
 
 What avails th' expanded mind, 
 
 Tutor'd in the choiceft lore ? 
 The fuffering body lags behind, 
 Nor lets the rifing fpirit foar : 
 Call'd home, what Stoic pride the foul can fteel, 
 When every fmew's rack'd, and every nerve muft feel ? 
 
 What avails the glowing heart, 
 
 The eye that gliftens at diftrefs ; 
 The wifh all bleffings to impart, 
 Or make at leaft a brother's forrow lefs ? 
 From Trouble's fpring the deepeft draught be drew, 
 Who mourns his own hard lot, and weeps for others too. 
 
 At the fad miftaken gate 
 When the maim'd veteran takes his fuppliant Hand, 
 
 Struck with the haplefs warrior's ftate, 
 Sudden the pitying tenant gives bis hand, 
 
 'Tia
 
 [ io 3 ] 
 
 Tis empty See ! his lids o'erflow, 
 
 To fend undol'd away the hoary fon of woe. 
 
 Love too for in the lowlieft cell 
 Chafte love with pureft flame may dwell 
 His love what forer can befall ? 
 Is doom'd to four its fweets, and dafli his cup with gall. 
 
 Before the hufband's and the father's eyes 
 
 Stormy clouds in profpeft rife, 
 The future orphan's cry, the widow's groan ; 
 Thefe and more he makes his own 
 For ah ! the faithlefs world by him too well is known. 
 
 For thefe the homely robe, the fcanty board, 
 
 While life in toil is ling'ring on, 
 The drudge of fcience may afford : 
 But where's the friend will cheer, when that poor life 
 is gone ? 
 
 H 4 No
 
 C 104 j 
 
 No friend may rife, but many a foe 
 Will deck his vifage with a fmile, 
 Will hide in fofteft words the bafeft guile, 
 And, while he foothes the moft, will flrike the deepeft 
 blow. 
 
 Hence the pang, and hence the tear, 
 When his daughter's rip'ning bloom 
 Swells into agony his fear 
 Of the fell fpoiler's den fair Virtue's early tomb. 
 
 THE
 
 r 105 3 
 
 THE 
 
 H A R 
 
 ~O O R N E on Fancy's wing along, 
 
 High foars the bard's enraptur'd foul: 
 Round him floats the joy of fong, 
 Round him airs extatic roll : 
 
 Refiftlefs charm ! each fwelling vein 
 Owns the accuftomM flame, and throbs to pour the 
 ftrain. 
 
 Spirit of Offian '.thro' the gloom 
 
 Of ages deepen'd into night, 
 J5ee it burfling from the tomb, 
 
 O'er it gleams a holy light ! , 
 
 See!
 
 [ io6 ] 
 
 See ! it waves its m after-hand; 
 
 Aflembling o'er the heath quick glide the minftrel 
 band. 
 
 They wake the fleeping chords ! the magic tone 
 (That footh'd the dying warrior's groan, 
 That lur'd to fing the lateft breath, 
 And mock'd with fmiles the frown of death,) 
 Ideal, now renews the powerful fpellj 
 The lift'ning ihades, a grifly hoft, 
 
 Spring from the narrow cell, 
 
 And hail with lengthen'd fhoot th' enchanter's mighty 
 ghoft. 
 
 Thine too, Cadwallo ! whom to fare 
 
 In vain the heavenly fcience fu'd, 
 Starts from Arrow's rocky grave 
 
 With bloody ftreams embru'd. 
 
 Bound
 
 C 107 ] 
 
 Bound in the brotherhood of woe, 
 The Druid choir unites, their tears harmonious flow. 
 
 Wild as they fweep th* aerial lyre, 
 
 Arrefting fail the paflive ear, 
 Fiercer glows the poet's fire, 
 
 O melody belov'd ! O art for ever dear ! 
 
 Ruthlefs tyrant, yield to fate : 
 
 Nor Folly's fcorn, nor Rancour's hate, 
 Tho' op'ningwide the fluice of gore, 
 Could quench the flcill divine, could drown the myftic 
 lore. 
 
 Long '.long indeed 'twas mute! thy feeble prey, 
 
 Fall'n the hoary minftrels lay : 
 While, fick'ning o'er the mournful ground, 
 The conquer'd bands oft turn'd the ear in vain : 
 
 No
 
 [ io8 } 
 
 No more was heard the foul-infpiring found, 
 But, fafter in Defpair's fad fetters bound, 
 Each hung his head amaz'd, and dragg'd the fervilc 
 chain. 
 
 Wint'ry, thus the florin of war 
 Froze into floth the captive mind : 
 
 'Till growing Freedom burft the icy bar, 
 And loos'd the arts that hell for ever ftrove to bind. 
 
 D I S A P-
 
 io 9 
 
 DISAPPOINTMENT, 
 
 A FRAGMENT. 
 
 ****** 
 ****** 
 * * * * * * 
 
 ****** 
 
 II. 
 
 So figh'd Horatio, on a tomb reclin'd, 
 Beneath a mould'ring chapel's ivy'd wall : 
 
 His ruin'd hope o'ergloom'd his fickly mind. 
 And bade the head to droop the tear to fall. 
 
 III. Horatit,
 
 [ no ] 
 HI. 
 
 Horatio, to whofe lot was not deny'd 
 
 Keen Senfibility with all her woes : 
 By many a /*/// teft his heart was try'd; 
 
 His was the thorn, while others won the raft. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Yet, why fliould thorns his honeft breaft invade, 
 Since all the Charities were fondled there ? 
 
 Why fhould thy feat, Benevolence, be made 
 The haunt of haplefs Grief, and pining Care? 
 
 V. 
 
 FilPd with an ample foul, that would adorn 
 
 Fair Independence, he began his day : 
 Full many a promi/e fmil'd upon his morn : 
 
 Morn chang'd to eve, each promife dy'd away. 
 
 VI. He
 
 [ III ] 
 
 VI. 
 
 He wifh'd, nor can you call his wiflies bold ; 
 
 He hop'd, for fure his friends were not a few 
 He hop'd, for many a flattering tale was told, 
 
 And the fafe harbour pointed to his view. 
 
 VII. 
 
 The foft delufion play'd before his fight 
 Juft to miflead ; for foon, alas ! he found 
 
 His dawn of joy o'ercaft with fudden night, 
 His air-built vifion totter'd to the ground. 
 
 THE
 
 THE 
 
 NAVY, 
 A FRAGMENT. 
 
 "T\ OWN the variegated fide 
 
 Of Edgecombes far-recorded Knowly 
 (Joy of Nereids, Coraivall's pride) 
 Where Art extends her mild controul 
 But juft to check what Nature's liberal hand 
 Has fpread in gay luxuriance wide 
 Of rocks, dells, groves, a fairy land ; 
 The Mufe, aftonifh'd, trac'd her ling'ring way, 
 IJnfettled what to leave, and wond'ring where to ftay. 
 
 FRAG-
 
 FRAGMENT, 
 
 C C R A N N E L, pipe of fcanty tone, 
 Yield the prize, and yield it due 
 
 Pan, if here, mull furely own, 
 From thee no heavenly rapture grew 
 Thine's the frolic to advance, 
 Ruftic joy, and ruftic dance. 
 Merry glee, in many a round 
 Tripping o'er the daify'd ground, 
 Prais'd thy note, while rival feet 
 Strove thy movements faft to meet. 
 
 A TAL
 
 [ "4 1 
 
 E. 
 
 Founded on an Incident at St. VINCENT'S 
 ROCKS, 1779. 
 
 TT I G H on the clifFs tremendous fide, 
 That frowning hangs o'er Avon'* tide, 
 
 Three laffes chanc'd to ftray : 
 To pluck the cafual flow'rets bent, 
 Regardlefs of the rough afcent, 
 
 They wound their dangerous way. 
 
 'Till, flowly mounted to the height, 
 They turn'd their view in wild affright, 
 
 And
 
 C H5 ] 
 
 And fhudd'ring mark'd the fteep : 
 O ! then, what grief bedew'd each eye, 
 To think oije flip, one ftep awry, 
 
 Might plunge them in the deep ! 
 
 A Prieft, whom foft emotions prefs 
 To.fuccour damfels in diftrefs, 
 
 That inftant trod the ihore ; 
 With happy ftrength and fteady pace 
 Safe to the rock's time-moulder'd bafe 
 
 Each trembling nymph he bore. 
 
 Learn then this truth ; the carelefs hour 
 May feek a gay, but treacherous flower, 
 
 Whofe honey turns to gall : 
 While the kind parfon's timely aid 
 May refcue many'a tott'ring maid, 
 
 And - fave from many a fall. 
 
 EARLY
 
 EARLY GREY HAIRS, 
 
 /~VE R my head, e'en yet a boy, 
 
 Care has thrown an early fhow- 
 Care, be gone ! a fteady joy 
 
 Soothes the heart that beats below. 
 
 Thus, tho' Alpine tops retain 
 Endlefs winter's hoary wreath j 
 
 Vines, and fields of golden grain, 
 Cheer the happy fons beneath. 
 
 BAGATELLE.
 
 C 117 3 
 BAGATELLE. 
 
 T7* VERY hour a pleafure dies 
 
 What is thought, but nurfe to forrow? 
 He, that wifhes to be wife, 
 Lives to day, and mocks to-morrow. 
 
 On the BIRTH-DAY of Mifs S. C. 
 i. 
 
 T? X U L T I N G on the balmy gale, 
 
 When Flora wakes the May-dew morn, 
 The Rofe-bud all with rapture hail, 
 
 Sweet glory of the lovelieft thorn ! 
 Each day refines the rich perfume- 
 Glad Flora fmiles The zephyr blows- 
 While op'ning with a gradual bloom 
 
 The favourite ripens to a Rofc. 
 
 II. Thus
 
 II. 
 
 Thus in our Sufan's fhape and face, 
 
 Refpondent to her angel foul, 
 The growth of each attractive grace 
 
 We mark as annual circles roll. 
 Advance, ye years I And ev'ry charm, 
 
 Which Venus boafts, ftiall fure be given 
 While foft'ring Friendihip joys to form 
 
 Her mind, the faireft work of Heaven. 
 
 VERSES
 
 [ H9 1 
 
 VERSES 
 
 Occafioned by hearing that a Gentleman at the 
 HOTWELL, BRISTOL, had written Satirical 
 Verfes on a LADY. 1779. 
 
 TT* O R nobler purpofes defign'd 
 
 Than puny war to wage, 
 What caufe can fink a hero's mind 
 To worfe than woman's rage ? 
 
 What female fault can roufe the foul 
 To dip the ranc'rous quill ? 
 
 How juflify th' invenom'd fcroll 
 One female fame to kill ? 
 
 If
 
 [ 120 J 
 
 If frailty aims the flight offence, 
 What man perceives the fmart .' 
 
 O 1 let not bravery and fenfe 
 Return the feeble dart. 
 
 O'er the foft fex love gladly throws 
 
 Its adamantine fhield, 
 And few are ever known their foes, 
 
 Or try th' inglorious field. 
 
 Thus on the form of Beauty's queen 
 One only Greek was found, 
 
 Rough Diomed, with weapon keen, 
 Who dar'd inflicl a wound 
 
 OSSA QVIETA, PRECOR, TUTA REQUIESCERE Iff 
 
 URNA, 
 
 ET SIT HUMUS, CINERI, NON ONEROSA, TUO. 
 
 Ovid. 
 THE END,
 
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