THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES FUGITIVE l'l ECES, WRITTEN vi \\ EARU M.I l UK I. A I I THOMAS Hi;i)l)IN(i. ESQ. - BOOKSF II I H VI I" I j Hie Author of the following Fugitive Pie© died ii earlj age, and they were chiefly written (<>f cum-, without the remotesl view to publication) during hi- holidays, when he came home from school. His sistei feels that oothing would justify her in making them public, inn the greal difficulty her nephew, thi Re\ < ! I »i:i k\ . experiences in raising money larging his Hunch. Th« pronods ,,(' tin little volume will be applied towards adding an aisle to th< church al < i vn don, iii Suffolh II FUGITIVE PIECES ODE TO SPRING Thrice welcome ! soul-reviving Sprii Oli ! Bwiftly haste, and with thee bring I'd zephyrs bland with balmy w ii < rladding the ))luins ; — \tnl li i the feather'd warbli rs sing Their softest strains. Sweel Philomel's enchanting lay, When tears hang trembling on the spray, May softly hymn departing day Willi | voice ; — Bui when thou com'st, enchanting M,i\ All hearts rejoice. The vml. i and primrose pale Load with their sweets th ■ vernal gale, Roses and lilies-of-the-vale United brii I'lirir choices! it charms t<> hail turning Spring. I! 6 THE ACONITE. Ere yet the frozen streamlets flow, And clouds forsake the sky, The lowly Aconite doth blow ; — Too humble 'tis to fear a foe ; The storms above it flv. When earth of rain and snow has drank, And rivers overflow, 'Tis laughing on its shelter'd bank — Its humble state it has to thank For sparing it a foe. Tho' violets boast a richer hue, It proves their destiny ;- — Conspicuous by their vivid blue, Snatch'd from the place in which they grew, They're left to fade and die. To violets sweet, or primrose fair, 'Tis not to be compared ; But beauteous as these flowers appear. To their own charms they victims arc ; — Its meanness proves its guard. HYMN TO CYNTHIA Hound as is the Fairies' ring, Winn they revel by thy lighl ( lynthia, unto thee we sing, < roddes of the starry night. Bright as is the warrior's shield. Gleaming on the bloody field ; Justly untn ili. e belong All our praise and all our song. Sol may boast his fiercer ray, Lovelier far 's thy milder light ; 1 [e, bright ruler of fihe day, — Thou, mild regent of the night. Then greater praise to thee be given Cynthia, splendid queen of heaven; Seated on thy throne on high, Beautifying earth and sky. If, as they say, the amorous boy Thou niet'st on Ida's saered height . Thy presence, Oh ! let us enjoy, Impart to us thy wish'd-for light. In clouds no more thy face conceal. Thy beauties to the world reveal ; And justly thine, the BOUg we raise,— The song of gratitude and pcoi 8 TO VULCAN ANACISF.ONTI' Make me, Artizau divine, A silver goblet for my wine ; Spacious let it be and wide, With figures starting from its side :— But not the implements of Mars, For what have I to do with wars '.' Music, soft soother of the soul, Is subject fitter for a bowl ; The harp, the clarionet, and lute, The viol, tambourine, and flute. The varied seasons of the year Shall in another part appear ; Spring — young, and beautiful, and gay, And summer — clothed in loose array ; And autumn ripe — with wheat-ears crown'd ; Winter — in icy fetters bound. If thou wilt leave the choice to me, A tripod shall the goblet be, — And ivy round its edge shall creep : — Make it broad, and make it deep. 9 TO LORD BYRON I > Bacchus, the v ine is protected by th< And the olive Minerva Bel( ota as her tree : The sngc temples of Phoebus with laurel are bound, And with cypress and myrtle Bhall Byron be crown'd. 'I ho the olive and grape other fruits far exceed, — Tho' the laurel of fame the reward be decreed, — Ye1 whilst Byron's the cypress and myrtle Bhall be, The cypn -• and myrtle for ever for me. The myrtle was always an emblem of love, Both to mortals below, and to angels above; [sever And tin; cypress laments their hard fortunes which Two lovers, to meel again, never, ah ! aever. Then of cypress and myrtle a wreath T'll prepare, And the r ira's own fav'rite flower, shall be there ; For 'tis just that the fair* -t of wreaths should 1m long To the Bard, who all others excels in his song. Tho" the Muses severe have but sparingly shed Their honours of laurel or of hay on my hi ad ; "> et, not wholly neglected my v\ . iea shall be, Wnilst, swim lot of poets, the theme is of thee. Be thou then my muse, and m . m inspire. I f I ask not too much, with one spark of thy Ore ; And each year at thj altar a wreath I'll compi Of c] and myrtle, and Flora's own re 10 TO SOUTHEY. Oh ! Southey, 't were vain to attempt to rehearse All the beauties we find in thy elegant verse ; For sooner the moon shall bright Phoebus outshine, Than a Muse shall appear who sings better than thine. As soon shall the hound say soft things to the hare — As soon shall the heifer be join'd with the bear — As soon shall the tiger the antelope woo — Or the blood-loving hawk to the turtle-dove coo — As soon shall the cattle forsake the green plain, And playful disport in the watery main — As soon shall the fish for dry land leave the sea — As a poet be found who shall out-rival thee. Sing on then, sweet Bard, and the smooth flowing strain That has pleased us so oft shall delight us again ; And posterity all shall agree that thy name, Shall the foremost be found in the annals of fame. ON AN OLD LADY WHO PAINTED. Chloe, the meretricious bloom Thy cheeks and lips too plainly show, (Like roses strewn upon a tomb,) Hides nought but rottenness below. 11 ODE TO HOPE Come, blessed Elope, and Bmile upon mj Bong; In flowery numbers Lead my yerse along; All our joys to thee are owing, Without thee every wish is vain. Thy hand, with blessings overflowing, Heals every wound, assuages pain. For thee the farmer sows his fields; And blesl by thee, his grain its harvest yields: Thy blessings, Hope, in untold numbers, Light upon the Bailor boy, As wrapt he lies in peaceful slumbers, — Filling every thought with joy. Again he sees those well-known trees, Which shade his father's humble shed : The spreading vine, and jessamine, Which o'er the little casement spread; — His parents' kisses warm his cheeks; Largely he drinks supremest bbss ; — But in the ccstacy awakes — And starts and wonders where he is ; — Then finding all his transports vain, He sleeps, with Hope to dream again. Thy votaries through flowery mazes. With pleasure at their right hand, lead Thy train, composed of nymphs and graces, With mirth and gladness at their head : 12 Beneath thy feet bland flowers spring. Where'er thou tread'st the rose is seen, The birds with greater sweetness sing, The grass assumes a brighter green. With roses crown'd, fair health is found, Where'er thou deignest to appear, Adversity and sickness fly, With every care and every fear : — Hope, for ever shed thy grateful ray, Which like the sunbeams chase all mist away, EPIGRAM ON THE INVENTION OF WATER-MILLS. FROM THE GREEK. Cease, cease your toil, ye Maids be still, Ye who labour at the mill. — Let music sound the voice of joy, And nought but love your minds employ ; For Ceres, pitying you, commands The water-nymphs to ply their hands. The nymphs, obedient to the call, Upon the massive engine fall, Tlic cumbrous wheel they hasten round ; And so by them the corn is ground. THE CHOK I. OF A PROFESSION. The deep-toned voice of youth's advancing prime. Proclaims Phile □ has attained the time To fix the plan that must his life pervade, Ami give i" conducl its distinctive Bhade. Reflection held doI long the dubious Bcali cred < Iffice in his choice prevails. The me f eternal love to pn ach, Celestial truth, and spotless murals teach ; From errors maze and vice's snare recall, Avert their misery, and dissolve thi ir thrall ; i londucl i" joy, along the path of right, Illume that path with fair example's light. Affliction's wounds with consolation balm ; Tbe murmuring— still, tbe throhhing bosom— calm ; [nspire with courage through this dubious way. And poinl to regions of Eternal Day. — " This tbe Commission by no mortal given ! " Tbis comes imprinted with the seal of 1 [eaven ! " Tins task," he cries, " is bliss, it' bliss be found " On earth : with tbis tbe man of God is crown'd ! •• Thy choice, my son," replies the reverend sire, •• A soul announces warm'd with gi nerous tire; '• Such as thou paint'-i, the man of God should be : " But, ab ! bow differenl those we often 8( •• Some meanly pant tor popular applause, " And to tbe mob adapt their Saviour's laws : " Others obsequious bend to power and state, ■• \nil homage vice, when opul< 14 ' Some, ever nibbling at ignoble gain, ' Are subjects, not of Christ's, but Mammon's reign : ' In many a bosom spite and envy dwell ; ' Such hate the man who ventures to excel. ' Cabal, intrigue, the sacred pale possess, ' And oft assume religion's awful dress. ' Curst be the hour ! when policy first trod ' These courts, like Satan 'midst the sons of God ! ' The Church should aid the State, and fence the Throne ; ' But fence and aid by piety alone. ' When she partakes the vice she should correct, ' She breaks her power, she barters her respect ; ' She gives the lurking serpent's head to shoot ' From 'midst the basket of celestial fruit. ' Yet, e'en in these declining days, behold ' Some near the signature of heavenly mould ; ' Who keeping still their Master's aim in view, ' This bright example steadily pursue ; ' Each mean, each sordid interest despise, ' Leave earth behind them, and ascend the skies : ' Such is the true, the heaven-inspir'd divine ! ' O ! such be thou — the blessed choice is thine !" When silent midnight rock'd him to repose, This striking vision to Philemon rose, — Ithuriel's image flashes on his sight, Array'd in all the majesty of light ; A radiant circle round his temples gleams, And from his eyes are darted Phosphor's beams ; Awe dwells upon his brow — o'er all his mien L5 The oas< of solemn sanctity is seen, And 1 1ms he him addrest, with tour-, severe — "Approach the ark of God with holy fear! " Before tliv .ludgo ten thousand souls will stand, " To sound tliy glory ! or thy name to brand ! " Charge thee with treason ! or the Pastor bli " Who led to joys no Language can express! "One faithless servant wounds the Saviour more, "Than hosts of open foes that round him roar: " The voice re-echoes thro' the vault of Heaven, " To flames perpetual be the traitor driven ! " Such is thy fate, if merely bread or ease, " Or aught the worldly soul delights to seize, "' Prompts thee with sacrilegious hands to stain " God's altar, and His ministry profane. ■' Hell, certain triumph to its cause descries •" When vice is cloth'd in sacerdotal guise. "But, Oh ! what peace ! what praise ! what peer- less joy "Arc his, whom holy, heav'nly tasks employ! " Who brings die Bock committed to his care, "To water'd pastures, and Balubrious air: " To all their dangers, all their wants attends, " Directs their course, and from assault defends ; " Till all their wand'rings, all their perils past, " He leads them to delights that ever last. " For him, white robes are wrought by seraph- hands ! • for him, prepared the palm triumphal stands ! For him, the aaints rear amaranthine bow'rs! 16 " And fragrance breathes from Paradisal flow is. ' These glorious prospects now thy bosom fire ! ' Its bent determine, and its choice inspire ! " But, by thy sad experience thou canst tell, " How weak the heart that proud conceptions swell. PASTORAL. My hills are spotted o'er with sheep; My cattle in rich pastures feed ; Beneath the elms my lambkins sleep, Or gambol in the flow'ry mead. Soft murmuring streams my lands divide, And ripple through the flow'ry dell ; Where oft with me at eventide, Soft Contemplation loves to dwell. My banks the violets overspread, The primrose decks the verdant seat ; And woodbines cluster o'er the head, — A shelter from the noontide heat. How sweet with Jessie here to rove, Or here beneath the shade to rest ; Xo though) obtrude itself but love: No busy cares disturb our breast. 17 Perhaps in\ Jessi and voi Shall warble through the hazel grove Her song all nature bids rejoi Ami every note is tuned t" love Ami whilst, responsive t" nrj flute, I [er fingers tremble o'er tin' strin The birds are struck with envy mute, And all is still while Jessie sinj Ami when her voioe and lute are --till. The blackbird on the leafj spray In turn shall charm us with its thrill. And pu^s the hours of noon away : The robin flutters round her head, And warbles forth its artless son < >r frolics o'er the primrose bed. Or builds its nesl the boughs among Affrighted by the hawk, the dove Oft flies for shelter to her breasl \iid in thai blissful Beal of love, t lontented yields itself to rest. All nature seems revived and gay, The flowers exull when Jessie's ni jh By me, when Jessie is away. fheir beauties pass unnoticed bj . 18 As thro' the dale we hasten home, The lambkins skip around her feet ; Leaving their flow'ry beds they come, Their mistress's return to greet. The damps now from the earth arise, While Cynthia gilds the heav'nly sphere ; And o'er the azure of the skies Innumerable stars appear. Our cot is overspread with vines ; With grassy seats beside the door ; The woodbine round our casement twines, And poplar boughs bestrew the floor. No luxuries adorn our board ! No crystal goblets deck our feast ! But fruits and ruilk our fields afford, E'en kings might envy our repast. O say where Happiness is found ! Does she in palaces preside ? Loves she the solitude profound ? Or haunts the pageantry of pride Alas ! we shall not find her there ! Nor in the hermit's lonely cell, But in the cottage free from care — With Jessie she delights to dwell 19 THE hi: Mil OF ADONIS M v muse laments the fair Adonis di ad ; The Cupids weep around his drooping head. Ah I Venn p ii" store in purple v< Bui miserable rise and beat f&va breast : Ami sadly cry, through every distanl Bhore, " My Husband, my Adonis is no more !" Mv muse laments the fait Adonis dead ; The weeping Loves support his drooping head. Uncover'd on the mountain's top he lies ; Now lix'd in death those once refulgent eyes : Pierced by the white tusks of a bristly boar UK whiter thigh is stain'd with purple gore. And Blowly trickling down his skin so fair, Sad Venus wipes it with her flowing hair. His eyes beneath his eyelids torpid 1 And from his pallid lips the roses fly. With them the warm embrace that Venus givi s And lingers near, still hoping that he lives. But, ah ! his pallid lips, now eold with death Feel nol the warmish of her erihVning breath. My mil-'' laments tin; fair Adonis dead ; The waking Cupids raise In- drooping head: Adonis has a cruel, cruel wound ; But in her breast a greater our )S found. 20 TO AMANDA. Bless'd scenes of peace ! a long adieu ! No more your beauties must I view ; Lost is the maiden I adore, And e'en your charms can please no more : For every tree within this grove Still bears Amanda's sacred name, Each poplar heard my vows of love, Its bark bears witness of my flame. Ah, Hope ! thou makest mortals blind, Thou ignis-fatuus of the mind ! But when, alas ! forsook by thee, Our misery too soon we see. For when perchance Amanda smil'd, I thought of sorrows past no more ; What dreams of bliss my mind beguil'd, What scenes of happiness in store ! Without a tear — without a sigh — My hours pass'd unregretted by ; I thought in youth's expecting moru, To find the rose without a thorn : For hope allured, and I believed She meant her promise to fulfil But, ah ! in this too soon deceived, I bow submission to her will. •'1 Bless 'I scenes of peace ! no mon please ; Yum- beauties Buit a mind at eas Reflection Btarts the Boalding tear, \., think ii" more Bhe'U wander here ! I o fate - imperious di cree 1 bow submissively my head . For what, alas ! remains for me, When even hope its ilf is dead FRAGMENT. Twas in the merry time of sprin When flowers first look gay, -\ inl birds upon the branches sing, To welcome bonny May, Sfoung Colin courted .iessie fair: — No maid with Jessie could compare; White were her teeth, black was her hair, - out-shone the diamond's glare. I It raven hair luxuriant fell About her snowy neck ; Bui who the matchless bloom can tell Which sat upon her cheek '.' h i" voice whene'er she bud And music hung upon her tongue, \- < lolin led his love along I'hc windings of the grove amon c 22 THE EVENING WALK. When Phoebus to the west inclines, And with a milder influence shines ; When cows the milk-maid's call obey, And o'er the heath the ploughmen stray, As home they go, their labour done, Their shadows lengthen'd by the sun ; — When sinking to its downy nest The warbling lark retires to rest ; Or mournful owl begins its flight, Disturber of the peaceful night, And wings its way to some lone tower, Whose gloom well suits the silent hour; Where wreaths of ivy, crumbling stone, And heaps of falling walls, make known The hand of Time, who level lays The great — the low delights to raise; — Or when the plaintive nightingale The rape of Progne 'gins to wail ; When glow-worms on some verdant bank, Where every flower of dew has drank, By sending forth their emerald ray, Teach night to emulate the day. In such a time, when all's serene, And twilight shades the busy scene, Oft may I roam, and, as I pass, Print footsteps in the dewy grass; When Cynthia, empress of the night, Befgins to mount the ethereal height. 23 Here may I mark all nature -till. Save muimuringG of the crystal rill, ( )i- notes of pensive Philomel, Who cheers the hermit's lonely cell ; Save distanl echoes "I' the town, ' )n tin' sofl wings "I zephyrs borne. Here may I mark how all disclo Even the weakest shruh thai grows, Even il"' meanesl flower thai blows, Tin' bands of u wise Providence, \\ hich univi 1 3a1 good < I !-{>• nne ! Who taughl those tender leaves to closv When firsl tli" evening zephyr blows? Who decks with verdure every mead? < >r who the tender ravens feed ? ' The band of < rod ! all things proclaim, And as they cry, adore tin-' sacred Nam 1 ' ' tin: oKi'ii.w. ! Alas ! I'm a poor orphan boy All my comforts from tlii^ world are fled My hearl i- a stranger t" }'>\ ; Since both Father ami Mother an- dead. 1 have neither relation nor friend, I resl on ill,, cold ground my head ; Ah .' never my Borrows will end ; — I'x'tli my Father ami Mother an dead 2± Yet a parent's fond kisses I've known, And sorrow ne'er weigh'd down my head ; But, alas ! all my joys are now flown, Since both Father and Mother are dead. My Father Vent out to the wars, To a far distant clime he was led ; — The few that return'd, all cover'd with scars, Brought me news that my Father was dead ! My Mother grew pale at the news. Like a flower charg'd with dew, droop'd her head. And all comfort and hope did refuse — Till they all said my Mother was dead. Pale was her cheek, fix'd were her eyes, — Like a withering rose hung her head ; I kiss'd her, and told her to rise ; — But they told me my Mother was dead. So now I'm a poor orphan boy, I'm unable to work for my bread ; My heart is a stranger to joy ; Since both Father and Mother are dead. For my lot I have nothing but woe, I rest on the cold ground my head ; No more joy shall my heart ever know, — For niY Father and Mother arc dead. 25 A I i; \<..\II.NT >ii>s i: \. and th< ir Q i< ad M !: to a ball at Huntingdon by Mrs. H g, who with her daughtei home in safetj ; but the and ich home till -i\ hou Tin. silver moon just serv'd to Bhow, As breaking through a Bable cloud, \ dreary, wide expanse of snow, As hollow tempests howl'd aloud : No stars appear'd — no sound was heard, Save Bhriekings of the midnight <>v,l ; Or raven's cry — or tempest's sigh — Or sullen watch-dog's distant howl. D \\r< ii blew tii'" wind across the moor, And sad and stormy was tin' uight : It carried clouds of snow before, And scatter'd terror and affright. ■' Ii hails, it snows — it keenly blovi ■ And dismal clouds obscniv the sky; " Scarce Berves to show the drifted snow " Pale < lynthia's silver orb on high." Two 1. ailics thus did make their moan, As from the ball they home did come Where they an hour before had shone, The brightest belles in all the room. E ']' mark and know — all in the snow They — chaise and h<>r>cv — all were cast ; Their carriage 'jay. Oh ! sad to say, I n the deep snow was frozi a I: 1 26 " Some courteous Knight our woes behold !" Miss R — ss — 1 with a sob did cry, " And like Don Quixote, famed of* old, " Relieve us from our misery." No Knight appears — they melt in tears — And from their breasts heave many a sigh : In wild despair, they tear their hair — Musing on their sad destiny. " Come, Morn ! O sweet Aurora, come !" Fanny all drench'd in tears did say, — "And dissipate night's hideous gloom " With the glad beams of cheerful day : "Ah! much I fear — strange sounds I hear " Of awful water-fall below — " Come, morning fair, — disperse my care, " And tip with streaks of gold the snow." * * * *■ * The author returned to school without finishing it, in I lie year 1807. [When the workmen went to the mill in the morning, they observed something in the snow, and turning aside to see what it could be, found it immoveable. Upon scraping away some of the snow, liny discovered a carriage completely buried : the driver having taken out the horses, had not thought proper either to return or to give information. The ladies soon made their wants known, when the men carried them, in their ball dresses, -to the mill, lighted a lire for them, and gave them elder wine, and then sent for a chaise from St. Neot's to convey them home. Thoy returned byway of Crosshall Lane, the direction in whichMrs. H g had ordered her carriage to drive, and reached their destination about twelve o'clock in the day.] 21 A FRAGMENT 'I'm uighl was bright, pale Cynthia shining ( lasl around a cheerful gleam ; Ami tipt with gold the tre a c olin i O'er the surface of the stream ; Where, oppresl with grief and anguish, The love-sick Emma oft did roam ; For gallant Edgar she did languish, Bravely fighting far from home. On her i heek, where roses blooming Lately pleas'd the ravish'd sight ; Now despair, and grief consuming O'erspread each grace with ghastly white. Ber eyes, where once bright wit was shining, Sunk with sorrow, dim with tears'; Eer heaving breast, her form reclining, Oppresl with grid', and no! with years. When the moon the sky illuming LYep'd forth with her starry train : This maid, a prey to grief consuming, Breath'd forth this sad and doleful strain: — " Three long years now are past and over " Since I was lirst a prey to care ; •' Return, n turn, advent rous lover ; " Save your Emma from despair, 28 "Ah! much I fear (too hard for naming!) " The rage of seas, or war's alarms ! " For nothing else could so detain him " From his Emma's longing arms." MENALCAS, DAM/ETAS, AND PAL^MON. M. To whom, Dameetas, does this flock belong, For which on oaten-pipes you raise your song ? D. To iEgon they belong — for him I keep This flock, composed of a few ragged sheep. M. How can you bear to sit in middle day, Unshelter'd from Apollo's scorching ray ? Oppress d with heat, his work the lab'rer leaves; The reaper now forgets to bind his sheaves ; No zephyrs move the surface of the lake, Where parching thirst the panting heifers slake. Unmindful of its charge, the shepherd's hound Beneath yon spreading oak rests on the ground. No gentle breezes the tall poplars move ; No leaf is stirring in the shady grove. Yon grot is near, which clust'ring vines o'er- spread, Or where thick hazles whisper o'er the head. Where flow'ring woodbines and sweei eglantine About the branches of the trees entwine. Thither we II go, and as we stroll alon En ;t. Lycoris loved — but, ah! he loved in vain — Fair I ralatea - w ler of the plain : Whene'er to bind her crook with flowers lie str< Or for her hair a fragranl garland wove ; A scornful lock disapprobation told. And seem'd to say, " Lycoris, you're too bold." Then on the shepherd and his presents frown 'd, And cast the blooming chaplets on the ground. \< I not to all did she obdurate prove, — Each Bwain to gain her love with presents strove; Eaoh thoughl himself the foremosl in her love; She took then- presents, smiling as the mora, — Lycoris only was repaid with scorn. (Yet time had been when she his love return'd And with like flame and equal ardour burn'd ; 30 To please Lycoris was her only care — A loving mistress, and a faithful pair ; — She many tokens of her love did give, And for Lycoris only seem'd to live.) Till quite dejected with her scorn and pride, He sought the grove, and thus in secret sigh'd ; " Welcome to me, ye grot and gloomy grove, " Since Galatea hut rejects my love. " Ye goats, that on the craggy mountains feed ; " Ye lamhs, that gamhol in the flow'ry mead ; " Compared to mine, how happy is your lot ! " My native country, and my pleasant cot " Delight no more, in them no charms appear, " All tasteless, all, if not enjoy'd with her. "My howers of woodbine, and sweet eglantine, " Mix'd with the branches of the spreading vine ; " My trees, with loads of ripe fruit bending down; " My fruitful corn-fields, clad in waving brown, " My humble cottage in the shelt'ring vale ; " My banks of thyme on which the bees regale ; " To me no more their wonted charms they wear, "A desert all, if not enjoyed with her." Bethink, Lycoris, who shall pen thy fold From summer's parching heat and winter's cold ! What shepherd shall protect thy tender flocks ? Thy goats o'er distant hills and craggy rocks ? Thy sheep and lambs wide o'er the rushy moor Have stray'd, (ah ! never wilt thou see them more.) 31 While the rough thioket thru- aofl fli boss tear, \,, more theii bleatings shall theii master bear; Thy ewes, with milk-distended udders stand. And, as they can, demand the milker's hand Thy blighted corn is mix'd with baleful tan And thy whole ground a wilderness appears. On thy tall elms, the glory of the mead. The caterpillar and the locusts feed: Whilst the fond owner stands in dumb despair — Far other thoughts, alas ! engage his care ; Forlorn — involv'd in love's consuming flame — And mindful only of the scornful dame. The Haunting poppy, with its crimson hue, ( )'erspreads the fields where lately barley grew : Tins,' things he deems unworthy of his care. Thus Bung the mournful swain — the trees around And hollow cave return the doleful sound. SONNE'!' TO THE NIGHTINGALE. "Why midst the poplar branches, plaintive bird, Pour'sl thou thy sorrows on the night's dull ear'.' Like me thou moan'st, but not like me unheard, Whilst down mv cheek unnoticed falls the silent, tear. Mfoan'sl thou thy murder'd mate, or ravish'd nest ? Moan on, sweel bird, bul soon thy woes shall cease; for joy onee more shall re-illume thy breast, And all thy wo bi solaced in returning peace 32 The stream oppress'd by summer's parching reign, Dried up within its banks and stagnant grows : Yet when fresh flowers and verdure deck the plain, Again with wonted vigour it replenished flows. Cease then, sweet bird, thy melancholy lay ; Again thy breast shall glow with happier love ! But, ah ! my woes will never pass away ; Like me neglected will my sorrows prove ! SONNET TO THE ROBIN. Whence comes that note that thro' the leafless grove, On the loud wind in gentle cadence dies ? The songsters now have ceased their notes of love, Whence then those strains of melody arise ? Why, little songstress, on the naked spray Sing'st thou, whilst nature lies around thee dead, Whilst the faint sun emits a sickly ray, And the dried leaves are falling round thy head. Moan'st thou the lot to earthly things assign'd ? — Soon nature shall revive, renew'd and gay — For us, the common lot of all mankind, To live and flourish, wither and decay. Yet — after this life virtue shall expand, Tho' here it oft neglected droops and dies ; To bloom, and flourish in a happier land, And reign, witli saintly majesty, above the ski • >•> • )• > THE WALL-FLOW I R ( >\ the loose ruing of a crumbling tow Midst heaps of noxious wi I the wall-flo grew ; There— decked the barren waste the sweetest flower Thai scents the gale, or drinks the morning dew. And why neglected, to myself 1 cried, Amidst these crumbling towers concealed and lost ; Why. Nature, from the sight such beauty hide, And wliv not bloom the garden's fairest boast ? I snatch'd, and bore it from the weeds away, Where, planted in a more congenial bed, Beneath my fostering hand it day by day Shot forth its flowers, and sweeter fragrance shed. MARIA. Thick clouds of dust obscur'd the sight ; The war-horse shook his bloody mane, And 'it descending to the fight, Destruction hover'd o'er the plain. The trumpet's clangour shook the air, The cannon's thunder rent the skies; Whilst Fury, Madness, and Despair, The earth affrighted with their crii 34 Bellona with fierce pleasure viewed The streams of blood that flowed around ; Observed with joy the strife renewed, That dyed with purple gore the ground. The earth groans with its weight of dead ; The streams in purple torrents flow ; In endless sleep rests many a head, And many a valiant youth lies low. Upon an eminence afar, With two sweet babes, Maria sate; There heard the thunder of the war, There waited the decree of fate. What untold transports seiz'd her breast, When victory waved o'er Edgar's head! What deep despair her heart possess'd, When o'er the French its wings it spread ! Till Mars appeared — with human gore Sated at length — and, at the sight, Now stopp'd the battle's sullen roar, And put the Gallic troops to flight. " They fly ! they fly !" resounded wide, And met Maria's anxious ear ; ' He's safe, my babes !" she wildly cried. "My Edgar's safe! adieu to fear!" :;.-) All pale and weak with I"-- of blood, I lis scarlet vesl with gore bedyed, Before Maria Edgar stood. Ami fell contented at i • * c Bide. "The victory's ours — the French retreat — " Their troops in thick disordi r fly — •■ And now contented at thy feet — " Surrounded by my babes — T die." Maria screamd- no more she see The light forsakes her azure eyes ; The strength deserts her trembling km She -inks, ah ! never more to rise. Alas ! poor babes ! in vain you cry, Those orbs no more receive the day ; In vain your warm caresses try To animate the lifeless (day : Without a father's fostering care, No more a moth r's kiss to Bhare. WINTER Tia winter drear, and all is still. Save Boreas coursing o'er the snows All silent is the prattling rill. Frost-bound, no more it flows. 36 No longer green, the meadows fade, No more is heard sweet note of love- For Philomel, hy storms dismay'd, Has left the naked grove. The fir tree bends its hoary head, Oppress'd by heaps of snow ; No longer thro' its osier-bed Does Ouse meandering flow, But deluges the country round, And covers o'er the naked plain Dismay, Despair, o'er all around, In sullen silence reign : ■'o-* Save when the bird, with bosom red, Has left the frozen plains, And underneath man's fostering shed Kenews its cheering strains. Sing on, sweet bird — thy pensive lay Shall dissipate malign Despair, And drive the Demon far away, And banish wrinkled Care. Affrighted by the night-bird's cry, You've left your native tree ; ]n safety feed — no screech-owl's nigh. THE MODERN BELLE V"-. Peacock - how insufferably vain ! \ to the bud he spreads his gaudy train. Observe his every gesture ! with what prid He eyes the poultry, feeding by his side ! how he shakes his wings and struts around I hen with whal pomp he Bails along the ground ! : some will cry, " what elegance ! how fine ' ■' Sure ne'er was seen a creature so divine ! ' But ye, who think thai beauty faults can hide — Who look at nothing bul the mere outside — Look firs! within, before you thus declare : The gaudy Peacock's plumes alone are fair; Hear hut his horrid scream, as raven's hoarse, As Loud as trumpets, and as oxen coarse; As vain as vanity : — its graci B prove Bui to increase the faults we most reprove ! Such is the modem Belle, whose only gra Whose sole attraction — is a pretty fac For what is beauty, if conceit and pride, I f affectation in the mind preside '.' As butterflies beneath a Bummer sky Flirt for an hour, and then obscurely di So beauty fades. — Whal Bource for agi reman [f our gay youth no other charm attain D 38 ODE TO PEACE. Peace ! who lov'st the shade profound, And ever shim'st the busy round Of vanity and noise : Be thou my guest — inspire my song ; And lead my peaceful hours along, 'Midst tranquil joys. When thou appear'st the groves among, The nightingale renews her song, And glads the sylvan scene; The blackbird tells its amorous tale, The linnet sings in every dale, Or valley green. The robin fondled in thy breast, The turtle watching by its nest, Rejoice when you appear. The! primrose decks thy mossy bed, The violets bloom around thy head, Thro' all the year. But where, Peace ! dost thou reside ? Say, dost thou love the seats of pride, Or glittering empty shew ? Or art thou of the rich the guest ? The tranquil joys of peace their breast ( 'mi never know. 39 The shady hanks of silver Ouse, Thou'dsl rather, lovely Goddess, choose Thru' all the year. The Bbepherd's cot, the peasanl - toil Thou cheerest with a heavenly smile, To banish Care. Return, then, Peace — a wish'd-1'or guest! II' turn t«> this deserted breast. And banish fell Despair : If thou, Bweel visitant, art nigh, The storms of fate will I defy, And gloomy I 'are. There were several others destroyed ; I particularly regretted an Address to Paxton. If the severe critic (for whose perusal they were not intended) should fail to admire these fugitive pieces, he must at least admit that they shew elegance, and purity of mind. S. H. R, I.AI'WcilIl II, PRINTER. STRATFORD-ON-AVON. UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. Form L9-50m-ll,'50 (2554)444 UMIf fcMTJ Y OF CALIPOtMTA TOS ANOFT ,pc PR H35Sf UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY^ HUlllllllll AA 000 376 511 2