5931 AIR666 THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES O N A L , legendary Cale; OTHER POEMS. Mecam, Dionaeo sub antro, Quxre modos leviore plectro. HOR. Oh ! let us seek some sweet sequester'd bocr. Hear the soft syren song, and own its power ; Far from our breast each anxious care remove. Or let our only care, blest care, be Love ! ! LONDON : PRINTED FOR T. HOOKHAM, JUNIOR, AND E. T. HOOKHAM, if, OLD BOND STREET. 1809. Printed by S. Gosucll, Little Queen Street. Pr DEDICATION. To Her, whose smile is the dear reward of the following little labour, Ronald is most justly dedicated, for her smile was the Muse to whom Ronald owed his birth. a '2 TO THE READER. Reader ! dost thou bid me tell, Why first I dar'd attune the shell '" Why scarce a youth I dar'd aspire, Though rudely, e'en to strike the lyre ? Reader ! I say, scarce yet a youth, For if indeed I must speak truth, Many of these have written been Ere I had years yet told eighteen ! But now (a common fate) grown old, Would you my age precise be told ? Dear, curious Reader ! I shall be, On my next birth-day, twenty-three ! VI But I forget 't was thy desire, To know why first I struck the lyre ! But would'st thou such a question ask, If thine had ever been the task, Delightful task a maid to woo, With words most fond, yet vows most true ; I will not tell thee where, and how Some future page may haply shew. But this you '11 learn from what I 've said, I struck the lyre to sing a maid Most sweetly speaking sweetly smiling, Whose glance, form, step, were each beguiling. For where 's the power that love subdues, E'en half so sweetly as the Muse ? Vain thought ! for know, the Muse's art With double force enchains the heart. But the Muse whispers, 'tis no youth, To whom 1 thus speak simple truth, That one, divinely fair, is reading, That e'en a sylph's sweet smile is pleading- To know, how I could find a pleasure To revel in an uncouth measure ? Sweet sylph ! I '11 tell thee, but first say- Why youths regard thee fair as May ? Say ! why thou seem'st an angel bright To every youth's enraptur'd sight ; And I '11 confess how long I strove, Then dar'd, though rudely, sing of love ! "Tis love that makes thee all divine, And love first gave me to the Nine ! II O N A L D. T. \\ n\ docs the tear bedew that eye, Which pleasure's self, when pensive grown, Might, from its lovely azure dye, And humid lustre, deem its own ? Oh ! let that eye once more be gay ! The rose so late, all wet, forlorn, Forgets, in ever-smiling May, The rudeness of the April morn. But thou, sweet maid ! thou, sweeter flow'r, That bend'st beneath a ruder gale, Raise thy fair form for one short hour, And listen to an old man's tale. ]() .Age never knew a happier task, Should I thy secret grief beguile, And thou bestow the boon I ask, The grateful, pleasing boon, a smile. With all a parent's tender care, The aged tenant of the vale, In pity, thus address'd the fair, In pity, thus began the tale. II. Lord of many a rich domain, Liv'd a youth, to friendship dear- Distress of him ne'er sought in vain, And told its tale devoid of fear ! On Tay's sweet banks his turrets rose, Those turrets once well known to fame ; 13ut now they slumber 'd in repose, And Ronald was their owner's name. 11 For scarce twice ten drear winters o'er, Scarce twice ten summer suns had fled, And scatter'd fragrance o'er the moor, His relatives so lov'd were dead ! No honour'd sire, no mother kind, No lovely sister's smile had he, No brother with a kindred mind, .And Ieagu'd in purest amity. No longer now a father's truth Reveal'd the battles he had won, Beheld himself again in youth, While fondly gazing on his son. When each enthusiast drain'd the bowl, Endear'd by Malcolm's honour'd name, A love more ardent seiz'd his soul, And rous'd a more than kindred flame I is 2 12 But now, no more the festive bowl Was heard to ring with soeial glee, Which cheer 'd awhile the pensive soul, And gladden'd with its minstrelsy ! No longer, when the morn return'd Which gave the youthful Ronald birth, Did each, in studied joy, unlearn'd, Give ample scope to heartfelt mirth. And now 7 , no more in exercise Each active youth display 'd address, And fondly strovt to gain the prize, And fondly hop'd to meet success ! Who did not strive for such a prize, To dance with Emma on the green ? And Emma saw them exercise, And Emma's self the while was seen. 1:1 To grace her brother" s natal day, The lovely Emma danc'd at night \V ith him, who bore the prize awav, Tor Emma was the elan's delight. She with a wreath the victor crown'd, And smiling twin'd it round his brow, While all the clan would shout around, And feel their patriot bosoms glow. But now the dance is seen no more, And every j r w which pleas'd is rled, For Ronald's lather all deplore, And weep the brave Lord Malcolm dead. She too, the pride of beauty fair, \\ ho oft the lively dance had led, She, once a brother's dearest care, Emma ! loveliest flower is dead ! 14 Thus breathes the scented rose in vain, Which hail'd the morn in fullest bloom ; The sun shall woo it ne'er again, And dewy eve shall weep its doom ! in. Though friend to virtue, friend to truth, Deserving sure a better fate, Thee, gcn'rous Ronald ! gallant youth What cruel destinies await ! Though now no joy salutes the morn, \\ hich ushers in thy natal day Co more you welcome its return With every sportive pleasure gay ; Yet still the poor thine hand shall bless, Shall bless thy store so freely given, And earnest for thine happiness, Shall waft an ardent prayer to heaven ! 15 All saw thee, while as yet a boy, Possess'd of every manly grace- In thee beheld thy mother's joy, For Malcolm liv'd in Ronald's face. So glided on thy boyhood's days, Which little dwelt on future pain ; For each resounded Ronald's praise, And Ronald's virtues once again. Thus, while some bark in gallant pride Unfolds to every breeze the sail, Cuts with a fearless prow the tide, And willing courts the passing gale ; The skies, the sudden thunders rend, The swelling surge is heard to roar ; The fatal hurricanes descend, And wreck it on the desert shore. H) IV. So, gallant Ronald enter'd life, Unconscious of misfortune near Unfelt as yet the battle's strife, Unknown as yet affliction's tear. But ah ! too soon th' indulgent hand, Which guided once his tender years, 'T was his to mourn, and weep the band Of kindred lost with unfeign'd tears. No longer then was Ronald seen The foremost in the healthful chase, No longer dancing on the green, And urging youths at eve to race : But oft at eve was known to rove, With downcast eyes in pensive mood, .And seek awhile the distant grove, And deep recesses of the wood. 17 There would he mourn his hapless doom, And shed with many a sigh the tear, And strew with flow'rs th' untimely tomb, \\ hich buried all that made life dear. \ et Ronald still possess'd a friend, Friend of his father's early youth, In science skill'd, and skill'd to blend The legendary tale with truth. With him the eve was far too fleet, While list'ning to the tale of old, And Ronald urg'd him to repeat, Once more, the tale, too quickly told. Thus, list'ning to another's woe, Th' attentive youth forgot his own ; Awhile his tears forgot to flow, And sorrow's pangs less keen were grown. 18 Fleas'd with the task so well begun, Sir Eustace would impart relief, And soon the sorrowing Malcolm's sou Renounc'd his unavailing grief ! " Ah ! lov'd Sir Eustace, best of friends,'" In transport, grateful Ronald cried ; " Thou still art left, my anguish ends, " My parents, kindred, have not died. " In th.ee, I feel a parent's love, " A brother still survives for me ; " Thou canst affliction's pangs remove, " Ah ! more than kindred lives in thee. li When thou, Sir Eustace ! worn with toil, " The weakness of old age shalt feel, " I'll cause thy furrow'd cheek to smile, " And cheer with more than filial zeal." ID Thus spoke the youth, devoid of art, To him who lov'd none else so dear ; Thus flow'd the language of his heart, Made sacred bv a slowing tear. And now, full oft at early dawn, The friends endear'd were seen to ride, And happy o'er the dewy lawn, "W as Ronald by Sir Eustace' side. To him, Sir Eustace would reveal Each science which he thought would please; Then with him share the frugal meal, \\ here converse still was held with ease. And Ronald then would love to read, Would anxious turn th' historic page, Would glow at every noble deed, And trace the Knight from youth to age; <; 2 20 Now heard the clanging trumpet sound, Which call'd the willing brave to arms, And saw the bravest kiss the ground, Amid the battle's rude alarms. T was here the warrior urg'd his car, Here loudly neigh'd the foaming steed, Here rag'd the fury of the war, And many a youth was seen to bleed. How did he envy every deed Perform 'd in matchless chivalry, V\ hilt: his heart whisper d it would bleed lu any hour for liberty ! Thus Ronald, though in peace profound, Beheld the glittering arms of war, And saw the batik' rage around, And heard the signal from afar, 21 Yet oft'ner would he seek the grove, And there the love-sick tale peruse ; There would he read the vows of love, And listen to the mournful muse. And when he heard the lover's woe, Strove vainly to repress the sigh, Still down his cheek the tears would flow, As sadder grew the elegy. For Ronald's heart was form'd for love, For every tie to friendship dear ; Yet pensive still he sought the grove, And dropp'd the tributary tear. So Ronald pass'd the fleeting hours, And read till latest eve from dawn, Culi'd with his friend the latent flow'rs Of science, culi'd, nor felt the thorn. VI. And now once more, his spirits light, He rous'd his clan long lost to arms ; For life had now once more delight, Was now adorn'd in novel charms. Again with them he sought the chase, Oft urg'd the deer across the lawn :r- Who could with Ronald vie in grace ? Or who with Ronald wind the horn ? Again, no other sound was heard, But Ronald's clan is free from pain ; "f was this gave joy this simple word, In him, our lost Lord lives again. Each now in gen'rous Ronald's hall, Who first should vow allegiance strove The old, the young, there breath'd in all, Rut tins one vow vicinal love ! 23 Proud of his clan, the youthful Lord Pledg'd all with heart right merrily, Presided o'er the festive board, And welcom'd its festivity. At morn the bugle call'd the horse, Each hasten'd to his neighing steed, While their Lord happy join'd the course, And bounded o'er the verdant mead. Hark forward, forward ! soon was heard- The game, my friends, is sprung to-day - And many a youth his courser spurr'd, But graceful Ronald led the way. The bugle soon was heard to wind, The chieftain saw the timid deer ; Vet all, save he, were far behind, And none but Ronald's self was near- 24 A merrier note now rung the horn, And echo'd in the distant vale; The dogs flew swifter o'er the lawn, And up the hill, and down the dale. At length his courser flagg'd apace, Though in the open, level mead, Lost to his eager view the chase, For vain his wearied courser's speed. How trie youth griev'd to quit the deer, So early, in so fine a morn ! He call'd aloud, no friend was near- None answer'd to the chieftain's horn. VII. And now, though far advanc'd the day, No house, no friendly aid was nigh No gentle stranger cross'd the way, And scarce a footstep met his eye. Onward the chieftain cheerless rode ; When slow descending to a vale, Unseen before, now rose th' abode, The happiest subject of my tale. For where 's the bard who names love's name, And feels not then a livelier pleasure ? \\ here is the lyre then struck the same, But vibrates to a happier measure ? Around the cot were thickest trees, Sweet shelter from the noon-day heat, Which seem'd to woo the passing breeze, And promise gave of cool retreat. Close to the door an arbour rose, Where sucklings twin'd the woodbine round, There wildly grew the blushing rose, And many a flowret bloom'd around. 26 .And near the stream which murmur'd by, The playful fawn was seen to sport ; The youth admir'd the scenery, Nor longer griev'd the chase so short. Th' admiring youth awhile had stood, But saw, snrpris'd, a female form Slow moving from a neighbouring M'ood, And bending homeward o'er the lawn. A struggle rose in Ronald's breast, T' address the nymph, or seek the cot ; But ere resolved what was best, The lovely unknown reach 'd the spot. L3ut when she saw a stranger near, The blush quick mantled on her cheek ; Nor was the youth devoid of fear, Nor could the graceful Ronald speak. '27 While fondly gazing on the maid, He felt a sweet emotion rise ; And though the chieftain nought had said, Yet how expressive spoke his eyes ! At length reviving from his trance, The youth, confus'd, for pardon sued ; But when she met his eager glance, Her blushes were again renew'd. And now he told his simple tale, That, hunting with his friends that day, His courser fail'd him in the vale, And, weary 'd, he had lost his way. The lovely maid the hunter press'd To seek the cottage, and repose. 'While his weary limbs to rest, Nor ijuit it till the morning rose. n 2 '28 The mother came, and prest, I wot, Ere yet the youth could well reply Ah ! prest him willing to the cot, And urg'd her hospitality. VIII. But ere the little feast's prepar'd, The beauteous Laura tun'd the lyre, Dcck'd in each smile the converse shar'd, While Ronald gaz'd in fond desire. Ah, happy youth ! how blest thy lot, Thus weary to beguile [he day ! Lord Ronald cry'd, and blest the cot, And blest his Laura's minstrelsy. At night in vain he courted sleep, And gently laid him to repose; As well might sorrow cease to weep, As love its anxious eyelids close ! 9 At morn how beat the chieftain's heart, For soon, too soon the hour was near, That warn'd the lover to depart From her, scarce seen, yet held most dear. Without delay he sought the room, Where eve had flown so swift along, Where, happy, he had blest his doom, And Laura's smiles, and Laura's song. Here deeply mus'd, but Laura came, And sweetly smiling blest his sight ; Then pleasure lill'd his breast again, Though sorrow mingled with delight. Already had his courser neigh'd, Already too the guide was near; And oft, Adieu ! had Laura said, Yet still the chieftain linger 'd there. 50 And ere the youth cou: v>. He thui in fait* ring act " How memon bl " When nr=t I aw t:.- " On thee rc2j. Peace for ever smile, " On thee her ''*' *er joy each hour beg die, More .. Then, ith ... : - . lb -.:.:. Lord Fiona - _-: Roan. '>' ho, foan : ..... rear d, impatient to \. . ll c : z'--' e tht : r :-: : - .... >'... : ..:.- :.': ... > ard . I .... Mul : odl bade . Then to the guide was heard to tell, To hasten to Lord Ronald's towers, Once more to Laura breath 'd farewell, And griev'd so tieet had tied the hours ! IX. The eve came on to hunt the deer All long had ceas'd, and home return 'd ; ^ et still the chieftain was not near, And each in fond expectance burn'd. The warder blew, the bugle sounds. For fear had spread too just alarms ; The castle all the clan surrounds. The willing clan in faithful arms. But when they heard the dubious tale. No longer they inactive stood ; Some rang'd the hills, and some the vale, Some sought the lowlands, some the wood. 3;ii:i'.s slmiv , 79 By us, although the laurel \s wove, With fervid zeal and pious love, A Maro's urn to grace, Although we mourn Rome now no more, Yet still amid its classic store, Its former grandeur trace ; And though to Greece we altars raise, To her breathe more deserved praise, For she first taught the song ; She, source of eloquence and fame, Of glory, and the deathless name, On patriot Marathon ; Still, faithful to our country's glory, Unequall'd e'en in Grecian story, We '11 Bronte fallen weep ; Him, lord of war, whose thund'ring hand Bore terror to each hostile strand, Great victor of the deep ! so And thee, on v\hose persuasive tongue, Listening, astonish'-d senates hung, To eateh th' impending word ; Thee, pledge of Britain's inward peace, For commerce smil'd at her increase, Though war still rag'd abroad ; Though anarchy's deluding guise Awhile engag'd Britannia's eyes, In every winning form ; T was thine, O Pitt ! though howl'd the blast, Though Britain's sky was overcast, To guide us through the storm. In future ages yet unborn, No morning sure will ever dawn On our posterity, But they shall bless, with filial zeal, Thee, guardian of their country's weal, Their laws their liberty ! 81 But should I praise the living brave, Awhile escap'd the watery grave, On Britain's shore now merry; Where shall I iiud a braver soul, In this poor tribute to enrol, Than gallant, laurell'd Berry ? 11 e whom the Nile admiring saw, When Bronte, wounded in the war, Resign'd the dread command ; And the muse whispers, Bronte smil'd When he his sword with faith resign'd " To Berry his right hand." But banish sorrow, gloom, and care, Hal ! let us rather sing the fair, Vers'd in a thousand wiles ; Yet Hal, though Beauty grae'd the ball W ith all her train, would never fall A captive to her smiles. For, Johnson's true disciple sworn, Thou deem'st poor Scotland all forlorn, To whom no joys belong ; Yet come, and thou may'st see advance, Nymphs fresh as Hebe in the dance, And matchless in the song. But hark ! the bugle calls to arms, Adieu ! adieu ! remember'd charms V Farewell to Hal and love. By Hal, I friendship here would mean, In friendship's calm and placid stream Thy bark can only move. But if near some dread Scylla moor'd, And aid thou hast in vain implor'd, UnaskV, I '11 climb thy deck ; Dash through the gulf, devoid of fear, And haply '.scape to all that's dear, Or perish in your wreck ! 83 ABSENCE AND PRESENCE. 1 wove a wreath of many a rose, For round our cot each flowret blows, To deck my auburn hair ; And sped me quickly to the grove, Where Donald oft had vow'd his love, But Donald was not there ! Oh ! sure he waits me on the plain,- I ran, I sigh'd, I look'd in vain, T In vain search'd all around : M} eyes were dimm'd with many a tear, ^ ft still my lover was not near, No Donald could be found ! 84 Ah ! what avails it thus to sigh, And then began my tears to dry, Why, Donald 's at the fair ! Swift as the doe then o'er the mead I sought the fair how vain my speed ! For Donald was not there. Though many a neighbour there I found. And many a youth came wooing round, Yet seetn'd I all alone : How drear, I cry'd, this desert place ! My steps again I '11 now retrace, All sad returning home. Scarce had I left the hated fair, I tore the chaplet from my hair, Swift at my feet it lay ; Why did I cull each rose so rare ? Why wove the wreath with nicest care r Win made me all so cnv. ; 95 While thus I near it sad remain'd, And each unconscious flowret blam'd, Despising all their charms, I heard my lover's hastening feet; How did my love-sick heart then beat, For Donald 's in my arms ! Well may'st thou blame the rose, he cry'd, For nature, lovely girl ! has dy'd, Far rosier sweet, thy cheek : Forgive the wreath's too cruel doom, Though e'en its dewy soft perfume To match thy breath is weak. Again, around my auburn hair lie bound the wreath with nicest care, Presumpt'ous kiss'd my face ; Swore he had sought me from the morn, And prais'd how oft my matchless form, My every winning grace. 86 How sweetly smil'd each neighbour's farm, When blest with Dnald arm in arm, With him I sought the fair ; No desert then appear'd at hand, But all around seem'd fairy land, For Donald's self was there ! 87 LINES SUPPOSED TO BE WRITTEN BY A LOVER ON THE LOSS OF HIS MISTRESS. otripp'd of their honours by the ruthless blast, Each tender shrub that decorates the grove Mourns but awhile spring's happier influence past, Mine 's grief eternal for the maid I love ! For spring, once more, with all a parent's care, With genial warmth shall renovate the gale ; And every flow'r shall then bloom e'en more fair, And still more lovely decorate the vale. M 88 But I no more the sunshine of her smile, Again to warm my clay-cold heart shall feel ; And that blest form which sorrow could beguile, Poor madd'ning fancy only shall reveal ! 89 TO MARY. I es, yes, another's far more dear To thee, for whom so true 1 burn'd ; And mine was no vain jealous fear, For every jealous doubt's confirmed. Dear, dear perfidious maid, I thought I found a kindred heart in thee : But oh ! thy perfidy hath taught Once more my heart its misery. ilow vain the lustre of thine eye, Since that on all can fondly dwell ; No more for thee, false girl, I'll sigh, Or only sigh to breathe farewell ! m 2 90 Ah ! no in every clime I rove, And many a clime the scene will vary ; Should I but hear the name of love, Mv constant heart would sish for Marv. !H TO LAURA. What first gave pleasure to my sight, And unknown bliss, and fond delight ? 'T was when I dane'd one dear, sweet night, With Laura! 'T was when I saw thee in the dance, And fondly strove to meet thy glance, And all my soul was lost in trance, On Laura ! T was when I saw thy twinkling feet, Now quick divide, now swifter meet, And saw advance, and now retreat My Laura ' 9'2 Oh ! when I saw thee in the reel, What transport did my bosom feel ! No words its force can now reveal To Laura ! How fond on thee I fix'd my eye, In all the gaze of ecstacy, For heaven was near, when thou wert nigh, Sweet Laura ! r No more upon the diamond's blaze, To admire its lustre will I gaze, With wonder, pleasure, and amaze, My Laura ! For sure the lustre of thine eve, Kright as the cloudless azure sky, Can with the diamond's lustre vie, Mv Laura ! 03 Thou neecTst not now, blest sylph ! be told, That thine is beauty's perfect mould, That were a talc indeed too old For Laura ! 'T were vain for me, sweet girl ! to speak, What dimples nestle on thy cheek, To match whose hue the rose is weak, My Laura ! To tell the polish of thine arm, And dwell minute on every charm, While my heart throbs with love's alarm For Laura ! for canst thou count thyself the sand W hich skims along the desert laud, < )r count the pebbles on the strand, My Laura ? 94 So I, though thousands charms I trace, Can never tell thy every grace The matchless beauties of thy face, Dear Laura If some blest genius, near at hand, Should say, I might some gift command, The happiest boon of fairy land, My Laura ! That whatsoe'er I deign'd to choose, No god no goddess should refuse, Nor e'en the sweetly-smiling muse, Like Laura ! I would not ask for India's wealth, Nor all that e'er was heap'd by stealth, Nor e'en the dearer gift of health, But Laura ! 95 F would not value any gem, Though worthy Britain's diadem, For many a charm surpasses them In Laura ! The diamond 's dim to Laura's eye, Her teeth with orient pearl can vie ! And sure the lips are coral dye Of Laura ! And where 's the burnish'd gold con vie With those dear auburn locks, where lie Entangled love and witchery, With Laura ? And where 's the nectar that could cheat My soul of care, e'en half so sweet As that ambrosial kiss 1 'd meet From Laura ? 96 Then, Genius ! tell me that blest art, Since I from her so soon must part, WIgch gives me heaven, if the heart Of Laura ! 97 THE SOLDIER'S RETURN. , Where, oh! where is the mansion of wealth proudly swelling, That e'er knew the joy that now reign'd in the cot ; Where the soldier so late from the war fix'd his dwelling, And, safe with his friends, e'en his wounds had forgot. Though without loud and louder the night-wind was blowing, And the rain and the sleet fell in torrents abroad, Yet within was the bosom of love fondly glowing, For love's dearest pride, William's self, was restor'd. N 2 OS On the right of the fire sat the grandsire de- lighted, And play'dou his knee with the infant so dear; On the left his old dame had that moment just lighted Her pipe, and sat anxious the story to hear. i\nd now did the youth, to his home long a stranger, Unfold to the dear little circle his stoiy; And told how he oft 'scap'd from imminent danger, And boasted his wealth, which amounted to glory. But far, far more anxious on his breast sad re- clining, With tears in her eyes as she heard of his toils, That she shar'd not his fate the fond wife was repining, But the tears of regret yielded soon to her smiles. 99 For William was safe, and Jane banish'd her sorrow And now the dear circle arose to depart ; Each view'd with surprise the faint dawn of the morrow, While Pleasure, a guest long unknown, cheer'd the heart. But vainly from care Jane in sleep was reposing ; Still moist was her eye, and bedew'd with a tear ; For Fancy a scene fraught with woe was dis- closing, That robb'd her of all that on earth she held dear : She dreamt that the friend of her husband so tender Saul, as flying he past, " William 's cold on the ground :" Ah, Y\ iliiam ! too brave for he would not sur- render, And the foe all-relentless with joy gave the wound. 100 Then her child to her poor bursting heart madly pressing, Dear image of him whom no valour could save ; Live, my boy, frantic cry'd, and may this be thy blessing, To avenge thy poor father, the boast of the brave ! Vain hope ! for that moment came one whose huge stature And fierce look proclaim'd him.no friend to distress, Whose heart never throbb'd with the warm pulse of nature, Whom mercy disown'd, and love never could bless. He fore'd the dear pledge of her love from her arms, Her pride, hope, and solace, he dash'd to the ground ; Till quite overcome with maternal alarms, All-trembling slie 'woke, looking wildly around. 101 llow great was her joy when the dream fled away ! William's breath warm'd her pale cheek ! Oh, moment, how blest ! When she view'd him all-safe by the full-risen day, And the dear little fondling was kissing her breast ! 1()1- LINES ON HEARING A LADY IMITATE ROSCItTS, IN THE CHARACTER OF NORVA1, IN DOUGLAS. \ V hat, though the world in fond delight, Roscius ! eaeli hour resounds thy praise! What, though on thee the livelong night, Each youth, each damsel loves to gaze ! Each gallant youth, the first in duty, AN hene'er their country calls to arms ; Each lovely girl, still lirst in beauty, Though foreign beauty boasts its charms : 103 What, though on thee should Britain's queen, Each princess too of Britain's isle, \\ ith air so sweet, with sweetest mien, On thee, O Iloscius ! deign to smile ; I 'd envy not the world's applause, Though Britain's king applauded thee ; Yet still I feel for envy cause ; That cause I will impart to thee. Oh ! when I see my Charlotte smile, Or hear her lavish praise on thee, 'T is then I would be thee awhile, Roscius! 'tis then I envy thee. Iloscius ! by thee in Norval fir'd, Thine action suited to the sense ; I 've thought the bard who wrote inspirU, And matchless in his eloquence ! 104 But ne'er thought Roscius all divine, Till, mask'd in Charlotte's lovely face, We saw the dear enchantress shine, With Roscian voice but more than Roscian grace. 103 TO THE MUSE. Jb arewell, thou nurse of elegant desire, Of youthful genius, and poetic fire ! Farewell, sweet mistress of each finer sense, And all that charms in pity's eloquence !' Farewell, lov'd muse ! yet still be dear thy strain, Once wont to soothe, though renovate my pain ; That bade the gloom of sorrow to depart, And lull'd the anguish of an orphan's heart ; That gave to love a fonder, holier name, And made me feel e'en yet a purer flame ; That oft, when doom'd from Laura's smiles to roam, The secret spell that dearer made my home, In fancy still restor'd her smiles to me, Those smiles that justified idolatn ! 106 But now farewell the muse, farewell the lyre 7 Farewell the nurse of elegant desire ! E'en now the Forum's ceaseless toil is near, New scenes crowd on, and studies more severe. Grant me a tongue all-eloquent to plead, Where virtue calls, and glories in the deed* Mine be no idle knowledge of the laws, But doubly active in a good man's cause ! So, may each maid smile partial to my lay, Nymphs, fair as mom, and like the morning ga^l And thou, lov'd Muse ! my latest hour engage, The soothing, dear companion of my age ! FINIS. ^^^ Printed by S, Gosiicll, Little ^uecn Strrer. This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. " t ;TON ifAND INC. 20 213 i 533 UNIV 1 IS IT Y F ( A LIFOKJN 1A LOS ANGELES |Sim^ii RN REGIOrjAL LIBRARY FACILITY AA 000 073 683