Ex Libris 
 C. K. OGDEN 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 !<f-
 
 J-
 
 SAVILLON's ELEGIES, 
 
 OR, 
 
 POEMS.
 
 ]F R <D IS" T I 5IPIJB CJE. 
 "View of Ilarrcrw School .
 
 SAVILLON's ELEGIES, 
 
 OR, 
 
 POEMS, 
 
 WRITTEN BT 
 
 A GENTLEMAN, A. B. 
 
 LATE OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE. 
 
 1 Qui fit, Mzcenas, ut nemo.quim (ibifortem, 
 Seu ratio dederit, feu fors objecerit, ilia 
 Contentus vivat : laudet diverfa fequenres ?" 
 
 HORACE. Lilxr Primui, Satjn: I. 
 
 PRINTED DY T. RICKABY, 
 
 FOR HOOKHAM AND CARPENTER, 
 NEW BOND-STREET. 
 
 795-
 
 FV? 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 MOST of the following Poems have appeared in 
 our different Journals, under the fignatures of J. W. 
 SOLANDER, Nox, &c. The principal object of 
 arranging them in their prefent form, is to gratify 
 the wifhes of particular friends, and I lament on this 
 account, that many of my juvenile performances, 
 (and among -them fome of thofe which I prized the 
 moft) are loft or deftroyed ; fuch, however, as I 
 have been able to collect, are here intruded to their 
 notice. Written at a period, ere tafte had refined, 
 or judgment fufficiently ripened the underftanding, 
 they were never intended to brave the Critic's rod, 
 nor to vie for the mead of praife, and their beauties 
 (if they poflefs any) confift more in the penfive 
 language of fentiment, than in the rapid and fome- 
 times unintelligible flight of fuperior genius to the 
 Parnaflian Mount. 
 
 A perfon who writes at thirty, and revifes his 
 work at fifty, may have many improvements to add j 
 and it will not be expected by the candid reader, that 
 the poetic effufions of one, who has not reached the 
 former period of life, fhould equal in brilliancy the 
 productions of thofe who have had longer experience
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 to embellifh, and fan into fire, the firft fparks of 
 their native genius. The majority of thefe Eflays 
 were penned, ere I had fcarce attained the age of 
 manhood, being compofed during the interval of 
 my entrance at, and my quitting the Univerfity, 
 when, during the vacations, at a diftance from my 
 aflbciates, and in the recefTes of a beloved retreat, 
 I touched the firft chords of my melancholy lyre. 
 In looking over the priftine efforts of my humble 
 Mufc, by the aid of the pruning knife, I might, per- 
 haps, have rendered them more worthy the attention 
 of thofe who honor them with their patronage, but 
 as they were never the lucubrations of deep ftudy, 
 with little confideration, I refolvednot (in this re- 
 fpecl, however) to amend the errors, or polifh the 
 ideas of my early youth, but to prefent them in the 
 fame fimple garb in which they originally met the 
 public eye. 
 
 Thofe lines and ideas which I was confcious, or 
 even fufpe&ed, were not my own, are diftinguifhed 
 with quotation marks : if, therefore, I have inno- 
 cently involved myfelf in the guilt of plagiarifm, the 
 offence, it is prefumed, will not be deemed paft re- 
 demption: the Bard who founds the fame tragic 
 lyre with his neighbour, will fometimes catch a note, 
 and fet it to mufic as his own, without any intention 
 to deceive.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 It is a misfortune with many in the very early 
 part of life to abufe nature, by forming too mean an 
 opinion of their own faculties : the diffident {trip- 
 ling hangs down his head in mame, and endeavours 
 to evade the qucftion of experience; while the for- 
 ward youth, endowed with more confidence, but 
 poffibly inferior talents, boldly ft r ikes into the track 
 of information, and challenges inquiry; he hears the 
 voice of applaufe thunder in his ears, and carries off 
 the palm of genius, which by natural right, is not 
 unfrequently the property of the other : the former 
 may be compared to the bafhful rofe, which, (though 
 of fuperior beauty perhaps, but unconfcious of its 
 bluming powers) appears to droop beneath the pride 
 of the gaudy tulip, propt up againft the frowning 
 tempeft ; and the timid mind, like the tender plant, 
 requires to be defended againft the north wind; the 
 flighteft injury will deprefs the fpirits of fome, 
 though naturally courageous, while others, awake to 
 wrongs, but of lefs delicate feelings, will foar above 
 the threats of malice, and difperfe into air the breath 
 of unmerited calumny : we look up to a great genius 
 with an eye of admiration, but I am not fure if I 
 would wifti to be that man, becaufe I think the per- 
 fon of moderate capacity happieft of the two; he 
 fteers his little bark through a lefs troubled fea, 
 and avoids fplitting upon the rocks of envy.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Devoted, when only five years old, to combat the 
 troubles of a public fchool, numbering at that time, 
 (I believe) upwards of three hundred boys, I had 
 many a ftorm to weather, and many a buffet to con- 
 quer : running from the confined illiterate nurfery 
 into a learned extenfive feminary, where the pupils 
 have generally imbibed their firft rudiments at letter 
 fchools, my little fpirit, unable to brook the morti- 
 fication of ignorance, laboured under the preflure of 
 ideal inferiority, and from the fuppofition of its 
 being itnpofiible to rival my clafs-mate of fuperior 
 years and learning, I was difcouraged from trying 
 the extent of thofe abilities, (however trivial they 
 might be) with which Nature had gifced me; but 
 time gradually draws afide the veil of felf-modefty, 
 and emancipates us from error. As I encreafed in 
 years, I confefs, I grew up in indolence, and my co- 
 temporaries, with whom I was in habits of intimacy, 
 will bear vvitnefs to the paftimes of a truant-boy, 
 throwing afide his theme for the ruftic fports of a 
 village fair, and of a college youth, enabled to mix 
 in the circle of gaiety and pleafure, configning Eu- 
 clid to his dungeon, for the more eafy and fafhion- 
 able inftrudtions of a Newmarket Jockey : More 
 ambitious to gain the love of my companions, than 
 the approbation of my mafter, I endeavoured to ex- 
 cel ingymnaftic exercifes; I was a hero of the bat
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 and ball, and few perhaps furpafled me at leap-frog, 
 in trundling the hoop, or at the top-race ; but I fol- 
 lowed not with equal courage and agility, the martial 
 Homer through the field of battle : the lag hound, 
 though often as fleet as many others in the pack, 
 muft be whipped up to his duty ; but the confe- 
 quences which followed a difobedience to the fum- 
 mons of the morning bell, were not fufficiently ter- 
 rific to roufe me from the arms of Morpheus; and 
 this idle habit involved me in many difficulties : but 
 however fevere our fufferings may have been, we 
 caft back a grateful eye towards the fpot where our 
 early friendfhips were formed ; where the fons of No- 
 bility and Traffic went hand in hand ; and the gene- 
 rous mind cherifhes a reverential love for thofe in- 
 ftru&ors, who have been our firft guides in the paths 
 of knowledge and of truth. Ye dear haunts, within 
 the bounds of Harrow, of my thoughtlefs, boyifli 
 days, thy objects live in fond remembrance, and re- 
 fled many a frolic fcene, and many a happy hour ! 
 I afk pardon of my ftrange readers, (ifanyfuch 
 there be) ftiould thefe obfervations be deemed a 
 digreffion from the fubjecl:, but in introducing them 
 to the contents of the following pages, the author 
 thought it not unneceflary to give fome little de- 
 fcription of himfelf, and of the country which gave 
 birth to his folitary Mufe.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 An unpoflefled fomething is ever fought after to 
 render more profperous the ftate of man : In youth 
 we look forward to pleafures engendering in the womb 
 of time, Hope fports before our eyes, and prolific 
 Fancy paints the fmiling plain of Futurity, ftrewed 
 with rofes ; and the inexperienced mind receives 
 fuch delight in travelling through thefe delufive re- 
 gions, that, carelefs of thofe bleffings at our com- 
 mand, we fuffer the prefent moments to pafs unen- 
 joyed away, looking forward to fome more diftant 
 view ; where the fabric is creeling, which is to con- 
 tain our every defire, the Paradife within, whofe 
 envied limits meanders the foft flream of uninter- 
 rupted happinefs : but, alas ! the meflenger of Truth, 
 with thofc glad tidings which are to complete our 
 wifhes, {till remains at an imaginary diftance, and 
 day after day, elapfes in vain, to convince us of our 
 folly: from thefe reflections, in a great meafure, may 
 have {filled the Author's mournful fong ; naturally 
 of a defponding (though I hope an eafy) temper, 
 I too early imbibed fentirnents, which tin&ured my 
 mind with a kind of romantic fadnefs, and I took up 
 MELPOMENE'S doleful pipe to encourage and to in- 
 dulge it. To me it was a pleafing tafk, to traverfe 
 alone the fhady folitudc, where the peaceful nightin- 
 gale poured forth her fong; or at filent eve to wan- 
 der to the mouldering abbey, and as the bird of night
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 repeated to the moon his difmal ftrain, to meditate 
 the tale of woe : and which, though frequently ori- 
 ginating in fi&ion, may too often be verified, were 
 we to trace out the fecret abode of mifery ; for 
 how often might we difcern the wretched Captive^ 
 lingering upon his bed of ftraw; the ruined Orphan^ 
 in tears of anguifh, recalling to memory the paft 
 feafon of her innocence : and the diftracted Lover^ 
 raving over the manes of his departed JULIA ! It 
 would be difparaging the gifts of Providence and of 
 Nature, were I to infinuate, that my forrows flowed 
 from the fource of cruel y^^-misfortune; in the early 
 fpring of life, with a fair profpecl before me, I had 
 reafon to be content and happy ; but where is the 
 Being; - the fage Philofopher, who can juftly 
 claim the epithet of happy? There exifts an inter- 
 mediate fpace between what we term happinefs and 
 the gulph of mifery, and I wrote not, becaufe I was 
 myfelf wretched^ but becaufe I felt for the wretched- 
 nefs of others. 
 
 Well aware as I am, how unacceptable would 
 be the offerings of a weeping Mufe, to the gay and 
 the unthinking, I am not the lefs fanguine, that thofe 
 for whofe perufal her plaintive effufions are chiefly 
 intended, ftiould they fail in affording pleafure, will 
 not be reprobated for the fentiments they convey. As
 
 XIV ' INTRODUCTION. 
 
 to others, into whofe hands accident may direct 
 them, they muft take their chance j and, however 
 fmall may be the portion of their merit, written as 
 they were, without the fear of cenfure, or the hope 
 of praife, fhould they inculcate nothing to condemn, 
 the author's endeavours will meet their expected 
 reward. 
 
 * # * When firft thefe Poems went to prefs, they were intended 
 only for the perufal of private friends, but from the flattering en- 
 comiunis beftowed on them by impartial Readers, added to the 
 confideration, that the artifl's talents juftly authorize an exemption 
 from obfcurity ; the author has been induced to wave his diffidence 
 in this refpecl, and by extending the number of copies, to offer 
 them to the countenance of thofe, among the public, whofe fimplc 
 rafte may accord with his own writings.
 
 ( xv ) 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PACE. 
 
 ADIEU to Harrow I 
 
 The School Boy's Fire-fide 4 
 
 The ChildofWoe 6 
 
 Ode to Retirement 9 
 
 The Captive 13 
 
 Louifa, an Elegy 17 
 
 Stanzas on hearing the Screech-Owl at Night 20 
 
 Elegy on .a favourite Dog ^^ 
 
 Stanzas on a fleeping Infant 24 
 
 Stanzas on a Lady's departure from England 36 
 
 Reply to Sophia 30 
 
 Eliza, an Elegy 31 
 
 Elegy written on an Evening in Summer 33 
 
 Verfes on vifiting the Tomb of an unfortunate young Lady . . 36 
 
 Elegy written on the Sea-coaft at Margate 39 
 
 Cleora and the Bullfinch 4! 
 
 Stanzas on the Ruins of the Pantheon 45 
 
 Elegy on the Departure of a Family from a Country-houfe .... 48 
 
 Lines on the Author's Brother going to India 59 
 
 Stanzas to a Britifh Officer on his Marriage 56 
 
 Verfes on a Bad Day 59 
 
 The Flower and the Infant 61 
 
 The Squire's Return to his Retreat 65 
 
 Verfes on Elwena's Grave 68 
 
 Sonnet I 70 
 
 Sonnet II 71 
 
 Sonnet III 7 
 
 Sonnet IV 73
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Sonnet V 74 
 
 SonnetVI 75 
 
 Sonnet VII '. 76 
 
 Sonnet VIII .- 77 
 
 Sonnet IX 78 
 
 Sonnet X 79 
 
 Sonnet XI 1 80 
 
 SonnetXII 81 
 
 SonnetXIII 8z 
 
 SonnetXIV 83 
 
 Savillon at the Tomb of Julia 84 
 
 Maria, an Eiegy 86 
 
 The Britifh Prifoner at Seringapatam 89 
 
 Tributary Lines on the Arrival of Marquis Cornwallis from 
 
 India 91 
 
 Verfes on the dreadful Fire at Ratcliffe 95 
 
 Lines to a young Lady under Misfortunes 98 
 
 Verfes from a Friend to the Author ico 
 
 Stanzas from the fame to the fame 101 
 
 Letter to a Kentifh Farmer, with an Epitaph IDS 
 
 Epitaph on the Author's Sifter 105 
 
 Lines to the Memory of a Gentleman Ic6 
 
 Verfes on a Church-yard at Moon-light log 
 
 The Cottage in the Vale 113 
 
 Stanzas on the Weft Kent Colours 116 
 
 Choice of a Wife 118 
 
 Adieu to College 119 
 
 A Fragment 123 
 
 A Letter , 34 
 
 Notes and Explanations M3
 
 ( I ) 
 
 SA VILLON's ELEGIES 
 
 AND 
 
 POEMS. 
 
 ADIEU TO HARROW. 
 
 WRITTEN ON THE AUTHOR'S LEAVING SCHOOL. 
 
 A.T length the wifti'd-for day's arriv'd, that day 
 Which Fancy pi&ur'd oft in bright array; 
 When every thought-fwoln trouble would be o'er, 
 And Greek and Latin clog the brain no more ; 
 When joys awaited, numberlefs to tell, 
 And fcenes where varied pleafures ever dwell. 
 
 O fay then whence proceeds the deep-fetch'd figh, 
 That tear which gufhes from the penfive eye ? 
 Or why, with chearlefs ftep thus fteal along, 
 To bid farewell amid the anxious throng ? 
 Oh, my dear friends, true partners of each joy, 
 When nought our blended pleafures could annoy; 
 How oft, when loos'd from Homer's tragic tale, 
 We've painted future blifs o'er Windred's ale. ( A) 
 
 * See Notes at the end.
 
 POEMS. 
 
 How (when at college met) our joys we'd crown, 
 And fpurn the pride that f wells the filken gown; 
 Then vow'd in general friendfhip to unite, 
 Pure was the origin, the purpofe bright ; 
 And thou, Black Ben, who oft with threatning nod, 
 Haft bid me wait the vengeance of the rod; 
 Can you enforce a tear ? But yet it flows, 
 A fweet remembrancer of all my woes; 
 And tells me Juftice^ with auftere command, 
 Directed thus my upright matter's hand. 
 
 My Arnold, fhall I quit, unnotic'd, you, (cj 
 Without one thought, one kind, one laft adieu ! 
 A tender fprig intrufted to your care, 
 You fcreen'd the fapling from the winter's air : 
 Full many a fag I 'fcap'd up Harrow hill ; 
 By you protected from the tyrant's will ; 
 Accept then, here, the greeting of my heart, 
 Tis Cuftom's laws compel me to depart. 
 Adieu, fweet grove ! beneath whofe fpreading fliade 
 I oft invok'd the Mufes' friendly aid : 
 Oft there, with plodding gait, I've paus'd along, 
 When ftudy forc'd me from the playful throng : 
 And you, ftern lion ! who with roaring voice, (E) 
 My flumbers broke, and made me curfe thy noife.
 
 And now my friends, but hark ! the calling bell, 
 Yet one more hearty fqueeze, and then farewell ! 
 I go to fteer my bark on dang'rous feas, 
 And dread the ruffle of each flender breeze : 
 Yet, fill'd with thy beft cheer, in hopes I fail, 
 And gather ftrength againft th* impending gale : 
 Then fare-ye-well, tho' fure in leaving you, 
 To real happinefs I bid adieu !
 
 POEMS. 
 
 THE 
 
 SCHOOL-BOY's FIRE-SIDE. 
 
 THE timid boy, releas'd from Virgil's tale, 
 With fault'ring ftep, and ghaftly vifage pale, 
 The learned threfliold quits, and bends his way 
 To wonted reft, yet fears his looks pourtray : 
 While, thro' the leaflefs trees, the wintry blaft 
 Now howls, and ftrikes his tim'rous foul aghaft ! 
 With quicken'd ftep he haftes, now backward turns, 
 Now gath'ring courage, prefent danger fpurns ! 
 Till reach'd the lone church-yard, his bofom heaves 
 The fwell, nor Fear a ray of comfort leaves:- 
 Yet ftriving to fubdue each fancied dread, 
 He whiftles thro' the manfions of the dead, 
 Nor cafts once glance behind ; now thinks he feels 
 Some midnight phantom grafping at his heels. 
 At length, each terror fled, he braves the blaft, 
 And fearlefs flops, to view the horrors paft. 
 Then onward haftes, to tell with keen defire 
 His ready ftory round the winter's fire. 
 
 And now, aflembled round the hearth, each boy, 
 With fear each bofom pants, and now with joyj 
 His woeful tale begins, and now he boafts, 
 That by the church he favv three white-rob'd ghofts :
 
 POEMS. 
 
 Now vows he faw each iflue from its tomb ; 
 A virgin one refembled in her bloom ! 
 In bloody veft, another feem'd to tell, 
 That by the murderer's flaught'ring hand he fell : 
 A third appear'd, more ghaftly than the reft, 
 Three difmal groans re-echoed from his breaft; 
 A warrior's weapon in his hand he bore, 
 And on his head the cap of vengeance wore ; 
 Then fwiftly glancing 'crofs his mazy fight, 
 Defcended to the filent realms of night. 
 
 "Now clofer crowd the throng around the blaze," 
 And, fear-ftruclc, view each other with amaze; 
 Nor dares e'en one to caft a look behind, 
 Left Fancy paint fome goblin to his mind. 
 The bluft'ring wind the time-worn roof now rends ; 
 Blown from its top, the broken tile defcends : 
 Now ftarts each comrade from his tott'ring feat- 
 All from the haunted room in hafte retreat. - 
 The hour of reft arriv'd, each feeks his bed, 
 And pents beneath the clothes his reftlefs head : 
 In lengthen'd darknefs lingers on the night, 
 Swift round the bed, Fear's vifions take their flight, 
 'Till, from the mind, each terror gradual flies, 
 As glad Aurora ftreaks the dawning fkies.
 
 POEMS. 
 
 THE 
 
 CHILD OF WOE. 
 
 TZuPoKM iDSsimtemiclttrtprrfdit tbt Situation (fa GENTLEMAN, 
 vAji life 1*1 tee* a Stria of mmtritat Misfortunes. 
 
 ERST into being from the womb I glow'd, 
 Misfortune hover'd round, imperious foe ! 
 
 Thefe eyes in bitter ftreams prophetic flow'd, 
 And uflierM into life the Child of Woe. 
 
 When firft the bread its nurturing nipple gave, 
 To force the milky drop thefe gums refus'd ; 
 
 Yet doom'd by fate the ills of life to brave, 
 w I grew to age, negle&ed, fcorn'd, abus'd." 
 
 Oh ! whence my forrows do ye conftant flow ? 
 
 When will the fource be dry from whence ye fpring r 
 When Pity on this wretch her calm beftow ; 
 Oh ! when this breaft will mifery ceafe to fting ? 
 
 When penfive from my bed each morn I rife, 
 And caft my tearful eyes the fcene around ; 
 
 The Sun, alas ! his chearing beam denies, 
 For me no ray of comfort there is found.
 
 POEMS. 7 
 
 But round this cottage drear, perpetual night 
 
 O'er day's bright orb her gloomy mantle fpreads; 
 
 Oft here the fcreech-owl wings his duiky flight, 
 And o'er my roof his plaintive mourning (beds. 
 
 The wretch that pines within the prifon-gate, 
 Proves not the torture of my foul's diftrefs ; 
 
 Ah ! happier far than mine, his deftin'd fate, 
 Tho' guilty chains his fetter'd limbs opprefs. 
 
 But, prov'd this breaft feme interval from pain, 
 Or hsav'd the figh opprds'd with cmmtm grief; 
 
 I'd ceafe to fpeak my woes, nor e'er complain, 
 Or pray to difbnt pity for relief. 
 
 Content I'd brood in filence o'er my lot, 
 
 And fhare, compos'd, the ills bequeath'd mankind; 
 
 u But when by parent and by friend forgot,". 
 Then hard's the tafk to foodie the troubled mind. 
 
 Hear me, tfaou Monarch of all-ruling might. 
 And pour down mercy on a wretch's head ; 
 
 Clofe faft thefe eyes in never-waking night, 
 And deign my wearied foul in Heav'n a bed.
 
 8 POEMS. 
 
 Yet flop, nor let me daring vent aloud 
 
 My forrows thus, nor heedlefs curfe my doom; 
 
 An angel Fancy paints in yonder cloud, 
 
 That whifpers peace, woe dies within the tomb. 
 
 Refign'd, then fuffer patiently thy pain, 
 
 Nor cenfure thus thy mighty Maker's will ; 
 
 With duteous awe thy prefent ills fuftain, 
 And foon eternal peace thy woes (hall ft ill. 
 
 Rend then, Adverfity, this care-worn breaft, 
 " Deep let me drain the cup of bitter grief;" 
 
 'Till, fill'd my infatiate foul, it flies to reft, 
 And finds in Heav'ns bleft realms its due relief.
 
 POEMS. 
 
 ODE TO RETIREMENT. 
 
 O, LEAD me to fome hermit's Qielter'd cell, 
 Or find my fteps fome peafant's homely cot, 
 
 Where genuine peace and fweet contentment dwell, 
 Where riches vanifli, and where pride's forgot. 
 
 Where no ftern porter ope's the folding door, 
 Re-echoing forth its haughty matter's wealth ; 
 
 And breathes denial to the friendlefs poor, 
 
 My Lord's from home, or, not inperfeft health. . 
 
 Where no ambition fires the fwelling breaft, 
 No courtly fop array'd in garb moft grand j 
 
 Nor fplendid chariot (hews the baron's creft, 
 Nor 2;lift'ning pannel apes the bloody hand. 
 
 Hence, all ye gaudy trappings of parade ! 
 
 Ye grated lattices, ye coftly domes ! 
 I value not your charms, nor court your aid, 
 
 Ye taftelefs joys, where pleafure rarely comes.
 
 10 POEMS. 
 
 Grant me, ye Gods ! Retirement's rural blifs, 
 Beyond the grafp of Riches' potent fway ; 
 
 Where no vile art beguiles the maiden's kifs, 
 Nor gorgeous title {tamps the bridal day. 
 
 Where Falfehood's fulfome tale no longer apes 
 The mafk of Truth, in Flatt'ry's borrow'd guile ; 
 
 Nor high-fwoln Pride at gilded Honor gapes, 
 Nor fordid Intereft courts the great man's fmile. 
 
 Here, fhelter'd in the valley's fweet retreat, 
 Each rifmg morn with happinefs I'll crown j 
 
 Here will I fix (my gucfts) the Mufe's feat, 
 And fpurn with them the follies of the town. 
 
 At dawn of light I'll tend the fky-lark's note, 
 That twitters gaily o'er my ftraw-topp'd fhed ; 
 
 And as he tunes to blifs his chanting throat, 
 I'll fing 'till from my humble roof he's fled. 
 
 When Phoebus bright here beams his fcorching rays, 
 I'll fit beneath this oak, that {hades the dale; 
 
 Or, wand'ring thro' the wood's intricate ways, 
 I'll court the zephyrs of the fanning gale.
 
 POEMS. II 
 
 At filent eve I'll feek the peaceful grove, 
 
 The murm'ring brook that gently glides along; 
 
 Or, fliould to village fports my foot-fteps rove, 
 I'll join in ruftic dance the thoughtlefs throng. 
 
 Here will I fhare of mirth the welcome meal, 
 No pride, dread foe to blifs, (hall fting my bread, 
 
 When fill'd with pleafure, from the board I'll fteal, 
 And homeward plod my way to downy reft. 
 
 There, free from care, I'll lull my foul to fleep, 
 In pleafing dreams the nightly hours fhall fly ; 
 
 No lordly frown ftiall caufe thefe eyes to weep, 
 Nor ftern ambition bid this breaft to figh. 
 
 Begone, thou deftin'd foe to earthly blifs ! 
 
 Too long you've tenanted this unpaid breaft ; 
 Fly far my roof, replete with happinefs, 
 
 And let Humility its inmate reft. 
 
 Away all greatnefs and thy glittering train, 
 
 Seek not to dim thefe eyes with pompous glare; 
 
 Nor bend thy fteps tow'rds this retir'd domain, 
 For nought of thee (hall cloy my humble fare.
 
 12 POEMS. 
 
 No titled equipage (hall e'er be feen, 
 
 To roll in palling grandeur o'er this plain; 
 
 No lordly gueft, pourtray'd in graceful mien, 
 Shall enter here, nor Pride a welcome gain. 
 
 But here the wearied traveller (hall find 
 A friendly hoft, and reft in foft repofe ; 
 
 Here {hall the wounded Soldier call to mind 
 His injur'd worth, nor tell unheard his woes. 
 
 Here fhall my foul, content, true pleafure prove, 
 Nor longer flit on Fortune's doubtful wing ; 
 
 Hence, fhall its flight on hafty pinions move, 
 
 Tow'rds that retreat, where forrows ceafe to fting. 
 
 O, come then, Happinefs ! be thou my gueft, 
 Sweet flow'rets round my cottage daily ftrew ; 
 
 'Till Heav'n in pity grants my fole requeft, 
 And thither call'd, I'm join'd in peace with you.
 
 POEMS. 13 
 
 THE CAPTIVE. 
 
 HAIL, happy morn ! how charming are thy rays 
 To minds at eafe, from dire oppreffion free; 
 
 No chearly beam, alas ! my grief allays, 
 Depriv'd of life's chief fweetner Liberty. 
 
 Thou rifmg fun that fpread'ft around delight, 
 To thefe fad drooping eyes thou fhin'ft in vain ; 
 
 Thy powers are loft on me, tho' e'er fo bright, 
 Thou canft not loofe thefe chains, or eafe my pain. 
 
 With thee the ready ploughman quits his bed, 
 Purfues, fecure from care, his daily toil; 
 
 With thee retires, refeeks his humble (bed, 
 
 Thoughtlefs what fate awaits the morrow's broil. 
 
 How happy he ! how calmly pafs' his days ! 
 
 His fole ambition refts in Liberty! 
 Dear name ! on thee, alas ! in vain I gaze, 
 
 Sentenc'd for life to dire captivity.
 
 On me each wiftful morn frefli forrow fheds, 
 Each night creates new horrors in my breaft ; 
 
 Dread night ! that o'er my cell grimDarknefsfpreads, 
 And fpurns me from the lulling arms of Reft. 
 
 Oh ! balmy fleep, that rid'ft the foul of care, 
 In vain I 'nvoke thee to my bed of ftraw; 
 
 Thou fpurn'ft the wretched Captive's humble fare, 
 And bidft him reap the fruits of cruel war. 
 
 In this drear cell nought elfe but Sorrow reigns, 
 The fole companion of each haplefs hour ; 
 
 Save when at night the lonely owl complains, 
 In difmal note from yonder ruin'd tow'r. 
 
 Save when by Cynthia's pallid dawn I view 
 The tiger, ftealing o'er the diftant wafte ; 
 
 Save when the rav'notis wolf, with hideous hue, 
 Purfues his deftin'd prey in eager hafte. 
 
 Save when the ftiip-wreck'd mariner I view, 
 Imploring mercy from the hoftile wave j 
 
 In vain he calls, now fhrieks the frantic crew, 
 Employ'd each hand the freighted bark to fave.
 
 POEMS. 15 
 
 Now rolls the threat'ning thunder o'er their heads, 
 Now Boreas with redoubled vengeance blows ; 
 
 Each billow now the feeble veffel dreads, 
 
 'Till vanquifli'd quite, (he yields toconq'ring foes. 
 
 Now plung'd in ftormy Neptune's craggy deep, 
 Th' intrepid feaman feeks bis wat'ry grave j 
 
 'Till rock'd at length into eternal fleep, 
 
 He refts companion of the murm'ring wave. 
 
 Yet, envious fate, bereft of every care, 
 
 Through bufy life the dreary voyage is o'er ; 
 
 The dreaded port is made, where wan Defpair 
 The faithlefs breaft of man molefts no more. 
 
 Where ftern Ambition ends her vain career, 
 
 Where Pride no more in ftately grandeur reigns; 
 
 Where mighty Kings, with peafants fhare their cheer, 
 And where the Captive, Liberty regains. 
 
 Ye Gods, who rule above, then hear my prayer, 
 Releafe my limbs from this dire load of pain ; 
 
 Then free'd I'll bid defiance to each care, 
 
 And drown my forrows in yon boift'rous main.
 
 l6 POEMS. 
 
 Yet vain the wifh ! my forrows nought avail, 
 No feeling ear will liften to my woes ; 
 
 Nor yet will pitying eye, nor profperous gale, 
 Once lend their aid to vanquifh thefe dread foes. 
 
 Then doom'd, alas ! to linger out my days, 
 
 In thefe drear realms my forrows ne'er will ceafe ; 
 
 'Till Time at length my ev'ry grief allays, 
 And locks me in the arms of lafting Peace.
 
 POEMS. 
 
 LOUISA, 
 
 AN ELEGY; 
 
 WRITTEN 
 
 UPON A LADY, WHO PERISHED ON HER VOYAGE TO INDIA, 
 
 Wbitberjbe bad followed a YOUNG MAN, mutually attached, in confequenct 
 of a Matrimonial Engagement. 
 
 THE full-orb'd moon in folemn fplendor fhone, 
 And deck'd in filv'ry garb the ftill-hufh'd wave ; 
 
 The weary winds had ceas'd their plaintive moan, 
 When fad I fought Louifa's wat'ry grave. 
 
 No found was heard dead filence reign'd around, 
 
 Invoking fadnefs to the awful fcene; 
 The drowfy flocks lay hufh'd within their mound, 
 
 And thoughtlefs fped the fhepherd o'er the green. 
 
 'Twas then, diftra&ed, on the fea-lav'd fhore, 
 I chid in frantic grief th' infatiate main ; 
 
 That loft Louifa's image did reftore, 
 And told the fecret troubles of my brain.
 
 l8 POEMS. 
 
 Ah, fweet Louife ! accurs'd, yet dear the day, 
 Thatdropp'dthee from thy Mother- Angel's cloud; 
 
 Too foon thus mingled with the mould'ring clay, 
 Too foon enwrapt in Death's refiftlefs (hroud. 
 
 She, who was wont to raife the forrowing head, 
 When funk beneath the pillow of defpair ; 
 
 Oft haplefs there with winged fpeed fhe fled, 
 And minifter'd relief with anxious care. 
 
 Yea, (he was gentle as the twilight dove, 
 Untaught by Art, in Vice's path unknown ; 
 
 Her heart was form'd to innocence and love, 
 The Child of Virtue, and the Grace's own. 
 
 Her form was elegance in native eafe, 
 Her face excell'd the pencil's utmoft art ; 
 
 What fenfe could fpurn fuch beauty, made to pleafe ?-- 
 What breaft of fteel refift the fatal dart ? 
 
 Then tell me, rueful billow, is me rock'd 
 To endlefs fleep beneath thy f urging foam ? 
 
 Or does her fpirit, 'till in peace it's lock'd 
 
 With Henry's foul, a wretched wand'rer roam ?
 
 POEMS. 19 
 
 Yet, fure fuch worth t' immortal blifs has fled, 
 To blefled regions of eternal peace ; 
 
 And Sifter-Angels guard her fainted bed, 
 'Till Henry there his forrows (hall appeafe. 
 
 Then hafte away ! fly fwift ye ling'ring days ! 
 
 Ye weary nights in wafting forrow pafs'd ; 
 'Till rous'd from Death's laft fleep, I wake amaz'd 
 
 In Heav'n ! and in Louifa's arms am clafp'd.
 
 20 POEMS. 
 
 STANZAS 
 
 OK 
 
 HEARING THE SCREECH-OWL AT KIGHT. 
 
 I. 
 
 HARK to that plaintive voice which thrills my ears, 
 And wakes my tim'rous foul to midnight fears ; 
 That vents its wailing thro' the flumb'ring air, 
 In founds of horror and acute defpair. 
 
 II. 
 
 'Tis the lone Screech-Owl's call ! which /obey, 
 For I, like him, make gloomy night the day ; 
 Condemn'd, like him, by Cynthia's dawn to rove, 
 Thro' the wild mazes of intricate love. 
 
 III. 
 
 Yes, mournful bird, to thee I fly for reft, 
 To woo fweet Melancholy to my breaft ; 
 For in thy forrow-founding note I find 
 A precious balm, that foothes my frantic mind.
 
 /
 
 POEMS. 21 
 
 IV. 
 
 With thee I fcale the antique ruin'd tow'r, 
 Or haunt the lone retreat of Cupid's bow'ri 
 And as you vent aloud repeated woes, 
 In untold grief the filent tear-drop flows. 
 
 V. 
 
 When morning's tints the pale-fac'd night difpel, 
 You feek the hermit's roof, and / his cell ; 
 Till Luna reigns again thy call I tend, 
 And hail thee as my gueft and only friend.
 
 22 POEMS. 
 
 ELEGY 
 
 A FAVOURITE DOG, 
 
 Intrujled by an intimate FRIEND, totbe Care of the AUTHOR, during tie 
 
 Abfence of itt MASTER, and ivbicb was afterwards prefented to him 
 
 as a Token of Regard; ivbofe death ivat occafioned from having 
 
 received a Bite from a MAD DOG. 
 
 ASSIST me fpirits ! whilft to Vixen's grave, 
 
 With folitary ftep I mournful ftray; 
 Whilft with a tear the rueful fpot I lave, 
 
 Where injur'd innocence and friendfhip lay. 
 
 Accurs'd the hand ! and hard the favage heart ! 
 
 That drove the deadly weapon 'gainft her breaft ; 
 That breaft, which ne'er till then had thought to fmart, 
 
 Beneath the hand it often had carefs'd. 
 
 My friend ! when thus thy Fav'rite's fate you hear, 
 Intrufted late beneath Protection's wing j 
 
 How will the tiding rend your woe-ftruck ear, 
 Qh, how your heart with pity will it wring.
 
 POEMS. 2J 
 
 Yea, often as the forrowing turf I pafs, 
 
 Where hidden refts beneath her worth reclin'd; 
 
 So oft will Mem'ry's tear re-bathe the grafs, 
 So oft recall your friendfhip to my mind. 
 
 Then reft in endlefs fleep, dear honour'd (hade, 
 Departed gift of concord moft fincere j 
 
 Whilft o'er your refting place a tribute's paid, 
 Whilft there a weeping mafter helps your bier. 
 
 Oh, hard the tafk ! yet fweet the chofen pain, 
 Which thus reiterates Affliction's dart ; 
 
 Accept the tear which forrow can't reftrain, 
 The farewell token of a bleeding heart. 
 
 EPITAPH TO THE ABOVE. 
 
 A moment flop, ye thoughtlefs paflers by, 
 Ye mourning tenants of yon helplefs dome ! 
 
 O, drop one mindful tear, or breathe a figh, 
 Thy favourite here has found a lafting home.
 
 24 POEMS. 
 
 STANZAS 
 
 ON . f 
 
 A SLEEPING INFANT. 
 
 SWEET fleeping Innocent ! how bleft thy ftate, 
 Thus lull'd to reft within thy mother's arms : 
 
 No anxious cares thy flumbers now await, 
 Nor dream of woe, thy fpotlefs breaft alarms ! 
 
 Luxuriant fleep ! true balm of heav'nly blifs ! 
 
 Entic'd beneath thy watchful parent's wing : 
 Ah ! did it laft, what joy could equal this ! 
 
 What fcenes of happinefs would each day bring! 
 
 But know, dear Babe, as thus you flumb'ring lay, 
 That fhort's thy fleep, and fhort's thy tranfient reign; 
 
 For foon thofe cheeks, which now in fmiles look gay, 
 The cares of life will fur with many a pain. 
 
 As now thy mother clafps thy naked frame, 
 Thus gently fondled in her anxious arms.: 
 
 Soon will fome rude blaft thofe blefiings maim, 
 Ah ! foon will waft thee from thofe fleeting charms.
 
 POEMS. 
 
 Yes, foon thy fated bark its courfe muft fteer, 
 Thro' troubled feas, where dangers hover round ; 
 
 Where no fond parent deigns thy cries to hear, 
 Nor pitying friend will tend the diftant found. 
 
 Sleep on then, Innocent, in balmy reft, 
 Thus undifturb'd, enjoy thy happy reign ; 
 
 For briefs the fpace by pleafure's thus careft, 
 'Twixt fliort liv'd happinefs, and frequent pain.
 
 26 POEMS. 
 
 STANZAS 
 
 ON 
 
 A LADY'S DEPARTURE FROM ENGLAND. 
 
 COME weep with me, ye tenants of the grove ! 
 
 Ye ftagnate rills, ye drooping willows, moan ; 
 The queen of birds that lately deign'd to rove, 
 
 Thro' thy enchanted bow'rs, far off is flown. 
 
 On Nature's gifted wings of airy hade, 
 
 'Crofs Ocean's wave it feeks a diftant realm; 
 
 Nor flops its courfe along the mourning wafte, 
 The fpreading oak, the foliage-cladden elm. 
 
 In vain laments, in note of heart-felt woe, 
 Its haplefs partner of the weeping grove ; 
 
 The flow'rets fweet, which verdant there did grow, 
 Now droop each head, kind emblems of their love. 
 
 Sweet voice of melody ! how cheer'd the fwain, 
 Thy fong, there wand'ring to relate his love j 
 
 With them, alas ! now join'd in penfive train, 
 He weeps, in fad difmay, their abfent dove.
 
 POEMS. 27 
 
 Ah ! cheerlefs bow'rs ! where now thy wonted charms, 
 Sweet S DC P ! late, that deign'd a bleft retreat ? 
 
 Where now thy fpreading oaks ? their honor'd arms 
 Encircling Virtue's and the Grace's feat. 
 
 Where now the plunder'd fhrubbery's boafted walk, 
 That iflued fragrance forth in rofeatc hue ? 
 
 Thy bloflbms fade, and weeds are left to ftalk, 
 Where beauty once in native femblance grew. 
 
 Ah, me ! each fhrub now clad in deep array, 
 Bewails the morn with drops of forrowing dew ; 
 
 All joy is gone, no fun now glads the day, 
 Each tenant there to pleafure bids adieu. 
 
 Here once this drooping lilly rear'd its head, 
 
 Each morn frefti nurture drew from Virtue's hand ; 
 
 Here too this wither'd rofe its odors fpread, - 
 And deck'd in pillag'd grace the naked land. 
 
 Here tun'd at eve fweet Philomel her throat, 
 To rhyme of love, to peerlefs accents gay; 
 
 Here warbled thro' thefe trees the thrum its note, 
 And here too, Cupid fix'd his evening lay.
 
 POEMS. 
 
 Sweet daified mead, that rais'd its white-fraught head, 
 And beam'd forth luftre from the radiant fun; 
 
 Where now thy borrow'd garb ? a wat'ry bed, 
 Awaits thy lay, where late each beauty (hone. 
 
 Yea, e'en the cattle confcious feem to moan, 
 And fad'ning graze along the penfive plain ; 
 
 Hear how the grief-ftruclc fky refounds the groan, 
 Re-echoed forth in melancholy ftrain ! 
 
 Ah ! Damon blithe, that whiftled o'er thefe plains, 
 And thrill'd with accents gay the folemn air ; 
 
 Where now thy dormant pipe ? its dulcit flrains, 
 Which banifh'd hence the fhaft of canker'd care? 
 
 Where now the voice that taught thy ruftic lute, 
 To vent its notes beneath the filent fhade; 
 
 That voice which deign'd to give a tongue each mute, 
 Now loft its harmony, and fled its aid. 
 
 Begone then, {hepherd ! hence all pleafure flies, 
 Hafte far away this now-deferted plain ; 
 
 Re-feek thofe bowers which boaft this hidden prize, 
 And there, once more, your paradife regain.
 
 POEMS. 29 
 
 Here left thro' folitude alone to rove, 
 
 I'll court each weeping gueft, my fate deplore j 
 Oft fhall the tear its lofs in torrents prove, 
 
 Where virtue chafte, and beauty charm no more. 
 
 Here on this tree, I'll carve the precious name, 
 And tell its owner's worth to future days j 
 
 Here fhall it breathe in traits of living fame, 
 Still (hall T exift in laurell'd praife.
 
 JO POEMS. 
 
 REPLY TO SOPHIA; 
 
 WrittcnintleNameefa'FB.if.Xi> ) inAnfwerfo a LADY,ijr;V'^ tie 
 Caufe of bit Leffair. 
 
 O, WONDER not, SOPHIA, dear, 
 Why wears this cheek the fur of care ; 
 
 Why leaves its cell, this tell-tale tear, 
 Or, why thefe limbs thus wafted are ? 
 
 Thofe charms, which hope had once ordain'd for me, 
 
 Have doom'd this breaft to lafting mifery. 
 
 O, afk not why this bofom grieves, 
 
 It beating pants with load of woe ; 
 Or why the troubled figh it heaves, 
 
 By fervent love thus taught to glow ? 
 Perufe this burning heart thou fenfelefs fair, 
 And read the caufe in reeking fymbols there. 
 
 Enquire not why along the fhade, 
 
 My footfteps paufe in penfive ftalk ; 
 And fhun the path for lovers made, 
 
 Where Cupids prate in wanton talk ? 
 Know, cruel nymph, to death they plod the way, 
 By you entic'd from happinefs to ftray.
 
 POEMS. 31 
 
 ELIZA, 
 
 AN ELEGY. 
 
 HENCE from the fhady grove's alluring walk, 
 The cowflip'd mead, the gentle purling rill ; 
 
 Give me the drear church-yard alone to ftallc, 
 And there of forrows let me take my fill. 
 
 For long my fteps Affliction's path have trod, 
 Yea, long have fought the yew- tree's gloomy {hade; 
 
 And oft with forrow have imprefs'd the fod, 
 Where, lock'd in fleep, my loft ELIZA'S laid. 
 
 Oft there my difmal thoughts the way have led, 
 When darknefs fad has clos'd the ling'ring day; 
 
 And feated 'mid the regions of the dead, 
 
 Have moiften'd with my tears the mould* rang clay. 
 
 There oft I've mourn'd by Cynthia's pallid dawn, 
 And woo'd the tolling of the deadly bell ; 
 
 When Phoebus bright has cheer'd the weeping morn, 
 I've fought in wild defpair fome hermit's cell.
 
 POEMS. 
 
 There from my eyes to banifh hateful day, 
 
 And foothe with Sorrow's balm my haplefs lot ; 
 
 <c For no kind friend will this breaft's grief allay," 
 ELIZA gone ! by all the world forgot. 
 
 A fairer flower Earth's bofom never bore, 
 'Till wither'd by the winter's hoary blight ! 
 
 A cruel blaft the tender fibres tore 
 
 It droop'd its head, and funk from mortal fight. 
 
 In heav'n ELIZA, if you hold your reign, 
 
 Look down with pity on thy EDWARD'S woes; 
 
 Remember him, whom tbou haft doom'd to pain, 
 And lull his frantic foul to calm repofe.
 
 POEMS. 33 
 
 ELEGY, 
 
 WRITTEN ON AN EVENING IN SUMMER. 
 
 SWEET peaceful eve ! with penfive filence crown'd, 
 Lone ftillnefs hail ! roll on ye babbling rills 
 
 The dufky bat fwift wings his wonted round, 
 And dreary darknefs tips the diftant hills. 
 
 Departing Phoebus down the weftern fky, 
 In folemn grandeur hides his ruby face; 
 
 Now to their nefts the feather 'd fongfters fly, 
 And gloomy night fteals on in awful pace. 
 
 Nor aught is heard ! fave ruftling thro' the trees, 
 On quiv'ring pinions gently borne along ; 
 
 The cooling zephyr wafts its gentle breeze, 
 And bears refrefhment to the lab'ring throng. 
 
 Save now and then the fcreech-owl's plaintive cry, 
 " On fome rude fragment" perch'd, or mould'ring 
 
 Save PHILOMEL'S their abfent mates decry, [tow'r: 
 In ftrains reproachful thro' the echoing bow'r.
 
 34 POEMS. 
 
 Save the dull fheep-bell's drowfy tinkling found, 
 At moving periods wakes the penfive ear ; 
 
 Or watchful fhepherd from the fleecy mound, 
 Who, whittling homeward, tends his blithe career. 
 
 Save the brown cowboy's known expreflive yell, 
 The moaning cattle hooping o'er the plain ; 
 
 Or cackling goofe ; or, lurkers to repel, 
 
 The maftifF howling from the 'fquire's domain. 
 
 Save the hoarfe raven to the rooky bow'r, 
 On footy pinions wings his croaking way; 
 
 Or bee that hums around the dewy flow'r, 
 Ere fateful night decrees it to decay. 
 
 All elfe is ftill ! yet hark, yon tolling bell, 
 
 That ftirs to weightier thoughts, the trembling 
 
 View the black coffin fauntering to its cell, [foul : 
 In flow obedience to ftern Death's controul. 
 
 Contain'd, perhaps, therein the virgin frame, 
 Offome fair maid, a facrificeto love; 
 
 Some warrior perhaps, of private fame, [prove. 
 Whofe worth, if tried, as ELLIOT'S, great might
 
 POEMS. 35 
 
 Sunk in the void of night, now Envy dies, 
 Oblivion hurls her leaden fceptre round j 
 
 Abfconded in the gulph too, Malice lies, 
 Till rous'd by Morning to her art profound. 
 
 Lur'd to the lulling arms of foft repofe, 
 
 The wearied traveller quits the dufty road ; 
 
 Forgets in fleep, the foldier too, his woes, 
 
 Or o'er the flafk throws off Misfortune's load. 
 
 All, all, fave wretched me, retire to reft, 
 But my negledled head no pillow woo's ; 
 
 A thoufand troubles torture this fad breaft, 
 Which perjur'd friends, to mollify, refufe. 
 
 O, huftiful night ! and thou (proud ftranger) fleep! 
 
 That frees the life-fide mortal from defpair j 
 " Can ye my fenfes in oblivion fteep, 
 
 And grant a fhort-liv'd refpite to my care ?" 
 
 Oh, no ! nor day, nor night, allays my grief, 
 Shipwreck 'd I rove along the defert (bore ; 
 
 Like fome loft mariner, denied relief, 
 
 And doom'd to mourn 'till life fhall be no more.
 
 36 POEMS. 
 
 VERSES 
 
 ON 
 
 VISITING THE TOMB OF AN UNFORTUNATE 
 YOUNG LADY. 
 
 WHERE yonder yew-tree fpreads its gloomy made, 
 And the lone moon, in pallid veft array'd, 
 Gleams thro' the dreary haunts of filcnt night, 
 Diffufing round her meditating light; 
 There rudely mingled with the fleeping dead, 
 Belov'd LAURELLA lays her care-eas'd-head; 
 There moulders into duft the faireft frame, 
 That e'er to Virtue's mead deferv'd a claim ; 
 A fweeter bud the lovely fpring ne'er knew, 
 Within the garden's pale, to envious view, 
 She bloflbm'd forth, with modeft timid air, 
 Beneath a watchful parent's anxious care, 
 In bluft'ring pride there grew, confign'd to reign, 
 The Queen of Beauty 'mong the bafhful train. 
 But, ah ! difaftrous fate ! by heav'ns decree, 
 Her guardian droop'd, and died in mifery,
 
 POEMS. 37 
 
 And left her blooming hope, with trembling fear, 
 To tread the mazy world, thro' life to fleer : 
 Yet, ere fhe died, bequeath'd her laft advice, 
 Her darling caution'd 'gainft the lures of Vice ; 
 Depi&ed to her mind the psahjbe'd trod, 
 " True to berfe/fy and truer to her God." 
 
 But fcarce had filial love the facred truft 
 In tears committed to its kindred duft, 
 When vile Seduction laid his captious fnare 
 A tempeft rofc, and fcatter'd in the air, 
 The faded bloflbms of the withering ftem, 
 Deftroy'd, and naked, ftripp'd of every gem ; 
 No more to ufher forth in bright array, 
 Nor fpread its ruin'd beauties to the day. 
 Such was LAURELLA'S fate: but Truth record 
 The bafe affections of her perjur'd Lord. 
 Torn from her native roof unheard her cries 
 The villain bore away his plunder'd prize ! 
 He flatter'd, figh'd in vain ! for ftill no art 
 Could lure from reftitude her fpotlefs heart. 
 Defpairing thus the madd'ning fatal bowl, 
 Infus'd corruption to her guiltlefs foul.
 
 POEMS. 
 
 Depriv'd of fenfe, bewilder'd in a dream 
 Each thought was flown of virtue and efteem, 
 And yielded up to man's deftruclive pow'r, 
 She bow'd obedience in Oppreffion's hour. 
 
 Pall'd with the feaft, the fated lover fled, 
 And left her fenfelefs on the tainted bed ! 
 Haplefs (he wak'd abandon'd, and forlorn 
 Expos'd to vice, to infamy, and fcorn j 
 And when returning fenfe her fate reveal'd, 
 Afham'd to face the world (he droop'd conceal'd ; 
 Unform'd the voice of calumny to brave, 
 And funk repenting to an early grave.
 
 POEMS. 39 
 
 ELEGY 
 
 'WRITTEN 
 
 ON THE SEA COAST AT MARGATE. 
 
 OFT Margate, from thy bufy fcenes I fteal, 
 To feek the defert ftrand ! the bleak winds roar ! 
 
 There to the waves my forrows I reveal, 
 And ftalk thy penfive folitary fhore. 
 
 From the rough billow tofs'd, the fea-bird foars, 
 Screaming aloft the raging ocean's foam : 
 
 Burfting the furcharg'd fky, deftru&ion pours 
 The fhip-boy fhrieks ! ftill, ftill, I onward roam. 
 
 Borne by the gale, I hear the hopelefs cry ! 
 Hark ! the'diftrcffing mot ! no help is nigh : 
 They fink, they fink ! beneath my anxious fight, 
 Defcending to the watery realms of night. 
 
 Mark the poor ftruggling wretch, for precious life, 
 Cling to the fcatter'd plank with eager ftrife ! 
 Oh I heaven, fave him ! fave him ! in vain my cries 
 Buried in the all-devouring wave, he dies.
 
 40 POEMS. 
 
 Yet dauntlefs ftill, upon the wafteful fhore, 
 I watch the furges mount the rocky fteep ; 
 
 Breaking, I hear them clam with frantic roar, 
 And fall in vanquifh'd murmurs to the deep 
 
 And as the fenfelefs cliffs, with unmov'd pride, 
 The bluft'ring wave's ejeftive threats deride ; 
 So, harden'd by ilern Fate, difdainful I, 
 Each fruitlefs menace of the ftorm defy. 
 
 Thus, as I view the wild tremendous fea, 
 In awful beauty drefs'd, amaz'd, I Hand ! 
 
 Yet far more charming is the fcene to me, 
 Than all the fun-bright profpe&s of the land. 
 
 What's then the giddy ball to my fad heart, 
 Or joys that float around the midnight bowl ? 
 
 Can they affliction drown, relief impart, 
 Or yield kind comfort to my gloomy foul ? 
 
 Oh, no ! hence then, illufions vain ! no more 
 Deign me the defert ftrand the penfive fhore.
 
 POEMS. 41 
 
 CLEORA AND THE BULLFINCH. 
 
 IN June, at eve, one fatal day, 
 Belov'd CLEORA ft ray 'd away, 
 
 Unmindful where to roam 
 The blooming maid of fweet flxteen, 
 And 'clep'd by all fair Beauty's queen, 
 
 She left her parent's home. 
 
 Entic'd along the flow'ry mead, 
 Regardlefs where the path would lead, 
 
 She enter'd Cupid's grove; 
 Where little warblers tune their throats, 
 To mutual Love's refponding notes, 
 
 Their blifs or pain to prove. 
 
 A Bullfinch fad among the reft, 
 With doleful pipe and heaving breaft, 
 
 There fix'd its plaintive lay ; 
 The penfive mourner fettling by, 
 Engag'd CLEORA'S pitying eye, 
 
 And thus it feem'd to fay :
 
 42 POEMS. 
 
 Ah ! once like you, angelic maid, 
 Reflecting not that fnares were laid, 
 
 In this alluring grove ; 
 <{ I carelefs rov'd its fweets among, 
 " And wak'd its echoes with my fong," 
 
 'Till taught by perjur'd Love. 
 
 A faithlefs mate in fhowy veft, 
 By Nature's hand profufely dreft, 
 
 Here wing'd his gaudy way : 
 He told his artful flatt'ring tale, 
 Seduc'd me down the flow'ry dale, 
 
 Ah, fatal ! fatal day ! 
 
 Attun'd his pipe to ftrains of love, 
 Avow'd he'd ever conftant prove, 
 
 'Till Death's eventful hour; 
 And thus in fleeting joys immur'd, 
 Our future happinefs fecur'd, 
 
 We chirp'd from flow'r to flow'r. 
 
 But foon the tranfient blifs was o'er, 
 The wand'rer fung of love no more, 
 
 Nor prais'd my plumage gay ; 
 But pluck'd in Pleafure's lawlefs zeft, 
 The choiceft feather from my breaft, 
 
 And fled, far, far away.
 
 POEMS. 43 
 
 As thus the haplefs warbler fung, 
 CLEORA'S breafl (with pity wrung) 
 
 Heav'd many a pond'rous figh ; 
 But little thought the weeping maid, 
 While thus in Sorrow's tears array'd, 
 
 Her own fad fate was nigh. 
 
 Then lifting up her tearful eyes, 
 Advancing quick a youth fhe fpies, 
 
 With all a courtier's air ; 
 In language foft with graceful eafe, 
 And felf-enamour'd fure to pleafe, 
 
 He thus addrefs'd the fair. 
 
 Long, long, coy maid of modefty, 
 This heated heart has griev'd for thee, 
 
 Let truth my paflion prove ; 
 Come, let's repair to yonder {hade, 
 Yon umbrage bleft, for courtier's made, 
 
 Nor fcorn my tale of love. 
 
 Begone, Sir, pray, return'd the nymph, 
 My father lives near yonder lymph, 
 
 Where mindful rumes grow; 
 Thy dad's afleep, the tempter cry'd : 
 She faulter'd blufli'd but ftill replied, 
 
 I muft not, cannot go.
 
 44 POEMS. 
 
 If then, thou cruel, harden'd fair, 
 You thus refufe to hear my pray'r, 
 
 Thofe eyes (hall fee me die j 
 Yon mindful lymph mail be my bed, 
 Ah, there, I'll reft this wretched head, 
 
 And end my mifery. 
 
 CLEORA, haplefs, wept, and figh'd, 
 Confenting bluflies ftrove to hide, 
 
 But in Deftru&ion's pow'r, 
 And yielded up to guilty Love, 
 She fell within the filent grove, 
 
 The victim of an hour. 
 
 Twelve months fhe bore a harlot's name, 
 The pinch of want, the fport of fhame, 
 
 Her parent's home denied; 
 u The bud of health forfoole her cheek, 
 " Which er'ft could boaft its pureft ftreak," 
 
 And thus repining died. 
 
 MORAL. 
 
 Learn hence, ye blooming virgins, and beware ! 
 
 Scorn not the warning of a faithful friend ; 
 " Know Ruin lurks, where Flatt'ry lays his fnare,' 
 
 And fhun CLEORA'S bafe untimely end.
 
 POEMS. 45 
 
 STANZAS 
 
 ON 
 
 THE RUINS OF THE PANTHEON. 
 
 ATTEND me, Grief! whilft o'er yon ruin'd fpace 
 My melancholy penfive footfteps tread; 
 
 Whilft many a veftige fcatter'd round I trace, 
 Where fam'd Pantheon rais'd its lofty head. 
 
 How fallen Grandeur difregarded lies ! 
 
 The fabric gone, proud Mifchief ftalks elate; 
 Heap, pil'd on heap, the fplendid atoms rife, 
 
 And mock the mimic hand of idle State. 
 
 Enchanting fcenes ! now levell'd with the ground, 
 Thy pleafing views no longer greet the eye ; 
 
 The ear no more (hall catch ITALIA'S found. 
 Thy bright allurements all extinguifli'd lie. 
 
 Here foftly quaver'd from MORELLI'S tongue, 
 Each dulcet ftrain, pour'd forth with potent fway ; 
 
 Here NEGRI charm'd the vocal choir among, 
 And held the fcnfes captive at her lay.
 
 4.6 POEMS, 
 
 On that rude fpot the flighty D'EcviLLE too, 
 His agile form difplay'd with magic art ; 
 
 There vaulting HILLIGSBERG would fpringto view. 
 And well perform no mean allotted part. 
 
 The dancers fled the fingers vanifti'd are, 
 The harmony of CRAMER'S band is o'er ; 
 
 No quaint grimaces pleafe the giggling fair, 
 
 Where gay Attraction, humbled, fmiles no more. 
 
 Now, thro' thy rooms, prepar'd for midnight made, 
 
 No fable Domino fliall ftalk demure ; 
 No witty Punch affume his jocund tafk, 
 
 Nor Quacks for vapours minifter a cure. 
 
 The footy link-boy with his torch in hand, 
 And voice uncouth, no longer bawls aloud ; 
 
 In throngs, no footmen lac'd, infulting ftand, 
 To fneer contempt upon the pafllng crowd. 
 
 Hufh'd is each noife ! no found annoys the ear, 
 Of haughty chairmen, calling, room there, room ; 
 
 No thund'ring voice that makes the meek with fear, 
 Proclaims the fribbling Lord, or aping Groom.
 
 POEMS. 47 
 
 Yet weep not, Mufe, at yonder empty void, 
 Where, late admir'd, the magic temple flood; 
 
 Its grace perhaps the Power above deltroy'd, 
 From care peculiar for a Nation's good. 
 
 Ye maue-up groups, no more to vault in air, (rj 
 Enrich'd with many afpoil from Albion's ftore; 
 
 Your patches, rouge, pearl powder, teeth prepare, 
 And quit, light-heel'd, her lavim, plunder'd fhore. 
 
 On you no more conceited beaus fhall grin, 
 Become protectors of their native land j 
 
 Thy pliant limbs that oft applaufe would win, 
 No more fhall caper from their tott'ring ftand. 
 
 Quick then, depart from this ill-fated ifle, (G) 
 
 Ye Signioras, Signiors, all farewell; 
 And, as ye pafs, on Englifli folly fmile, 
 
 But fecret keep what flame would blufh to tell. (H; 
 
 Let fafhion long lament the fatal flame, 
 
 And peace, thus gain'd, in tranquil weeds appear 
 
 May every voice the banifli'd race proclaim, 
 And Britain, ftill Britannia's title bear.
 
 48 POEMS. 
 
 ELEGY 
 
 Ikefuddcn Departure of a FAMILY from a COUNTRY-HOUSE, ivbere 
 they bad refided many Years. 
 
 FAIR rofe the morn, in funny veft array'd, 
 Nature fat fmiling o'er the new-born day ; 
 
 The glowing meads their richeft gems difplay'd, 
 Beneath the fplendour of bright Phoebus' ray. 
 
 When mufing, SEDLEY, 'mid thy blooming flowers, ( 
 Forgetful Pride appear 'd with wand in hand ; 
 
 And fcarce allow'd farewell, depart thefe bow'rs, 
 The defpot cried, with pompous ftern command. 
 
 Compell'd away ! denied one poor carefs, 
 Shades of my early youth ! belov'd retreat ; 
 
 I left thy groves, thy ftreams, thy dear recefs, 
 Of tranquil folitude the peaceful feat. 
 
 Behold yon dome, with gothic walls around ! 
 
 There late, for unaflumina worth admir'J : 
 The generous hoft, with modeft virtues crown'd, 
 
 Would feck repofe, from worldly cares retir'd.
 
 POEMS. 49 
 
 There bleft, with matchlefs confort by his fide, 
 The blifsful, placid hours would glide away ; 
 
 Secure of children's love, the hamlet's pride, 
 Ador'd by all the rich the poor the gay. 
 
 But now, alas ! ah, fad reverfe of fate ! 
 
 Flown are its charms, and each allurement gone, 
 The ruftic ftalks in filence paft the gate, 
 
 And mourns its abfent Lord, with ftride forlorn. 
 
 The roof-decaying owl, her boding flight, 
 Prophetic fweeps along the gloomy plain ; 
 
 In fearch of fome rude hole, remote from fight, 
 To fix her future folitary reign. 
 
 Stript of its pride, furvey the naked lawn ! 
 
 Where now the fportive throng of village fame, 
 Which late did thy deferted void adorn ? 
 
 The faireft offspring of the faireft dame ! 
 
 Aflembled there, the prattling infant crew . 
 
 Would oft the day in harmlefs mirth employ; 
 There would they Ikip, their jocund pranks renew, 
 
 Thofe pranks of youth, which never, never cloy.
 
 There I too, once like them, in giddy play, 
 "A thoughtlefs child, would fportamid thybow'rs:' 
 
 Uncheck'd by cares, and innocently gay, 
 Regardlefs of the fleeting happy hours. 
 
 Ye flow'ry meads, where oft I've toy'd along, 
 
 And cull'd the violet blue the primrofe fvveet, 
 
 Where oft I've bafk'd, thy od'rous fcents among, 
 My little heart with happinefs replete. 
 
 This rofe, which now exalts its mufky head, 
 And rich perfumes thus fcatters in the air ; 
 
 A few (hort days may view for ever dead, 
 Perhaps, ere long, a weed may forrow there ! 
 
 Yet fate forbid ! though now another's boon, 
 Unfullied may thy flow'rs, thy fweets remain; 
 
 Which cold neglect might damp, alas ! too foon ! 
 And not a flow'r its wonted fcent retain. 
 
 Robb'd of thy guard, I fear, left fome rude tread, 
 May heedlefs crufli thy tender frame's fo fair ; 
 
 Who now will watch around thy evening bed, 
 And mark thy progrefs with a parent's care ?
 
 POEMS. 51 
 
 Ah, {hades belov'd ! for ever loft, adieu ! 
 
 Ye woods, ye ftreams, and filent, peaceful dell ; 
 Forbid by harfh decree, to gaze on you, 
 
 Scenes now, alas ! to be forgot, farewell !
 
 POEMS. 
 
 LINES 
 
 ADDRHS3ED TO THE 
 
 AUTHOR'S BROTHER, 
 
 ON BEING APPOINTED, BY A PARTICULAR FRIEND, A WRITER 
 TO MADRAS. 
 
 EXULT, fond youth ! proclaim thy guardian's praife, 
 Implore him long, long life, and prosp'rous days ; 
 Attune thy reed, and fing to friendftiip true, 
 The nobleft patron of the noble few ! 
 
 O had I POPE'S or DRYDEN'S happy lyre, 
 To found the merits of the generous Sire, 
 Who thus to Fortune's road has been thy guide ; 
 Has fill'd thy heart with joy, thy mind with pride; 
 I'd roufe the Mufes Nine^ each vale fliould ring, 
 In concord join'd, each bard his worth fhould fms;; 
 Tune then thy reed, and fing to friendftiip true, 
 The nobleft patron of the noble few ! 
 
 Bleft youth ! now Fortune with her gaudy wings 
 Around thee flutters, paints a thoufand things 
 Predicts the joys which pow'rful riches yield, 
 And all thy care is how the load to wield.
 
 POEMS. 53 
 
 Gigs, phaetons, and nabob-chariot gay, 
 Before thy fancy dance in airy play : 
 Nor does one care thy future blifs annoy, 
 Rich in the thought, that pleafures never cloy ; 
 Thus may it prove, when wealth is in thy pow'r, 
 And nought occur to damp the feftive hour. 
 But e'er you part from blefs'd Britannia's fhore, 
 And truft your paffage to the golden oar, 
 To me, O youth, with lift'ning ear attend, 
 Nor fcorn the leflbn of a faithful friend. 
 When fate (hall land thee on fam'd India's coaft, 
 Amid an unknown race, thy parents loft 
 Thus left in youth thy conduct to diredt, 
 On Life's grand ftage, thy credit to erect, 
 Beware how thro' the ftormy path of fame, 
 Vou fteer aright your yet unblemim'd name j 
 A father's pure example keep in view, 
 In every action juft, to honor true. 
 Let virtuous thoughts each vacant hour employ, 
 And live thy father's pride, thy mother's joy. 
 And fhould progrellive Time with cautious tread, 
 E'er place the ruling chaplet on thy head ; 
 Intwine the laurel wreaths around thy brow, 
 Bid India's fons to thee with rev'rence bow,
 
 54 POEMS. 
 
 And all combin'd, with general one accord, 
 Should hail thee Governor ! their mighty Lord! 
 Then crown'd with pow'r great int'reft at 
 
 command 
 
 Should Eaftern Prince thy fervices demand 
 Prefent the glaring brilliant to thy fight, 
 To tempt thee to his caufe, or bafe cr right ; 
 RejeiSt the bribe, without one moment's thought, 
 For what corruption gains is dearly bought. 
 Tell the vain chief, you value virtue more 
 Than all the gems that grace his glitt'ring more. 
 Then ev'ry voice your actions will applaud, 
 " And prove that virtue is its own reward." 
 Thus will you reign an honor to mankind, 
 And boaft the brighteft gem a virtuous mind. 
 
 Farewell, then youth ! to Heav'n's paternal care, 
 I yield thee up, with anxious fervent pray'r: 
 Ye guardian Pow'rs ! this ELEVE fair, receive, 
 Beneath your guidance, let him prosp'rous live ; 
 As yet unpolifh'd in the wiles of Art, 
 No vice or ftain pollutes his fpotlefs heart ; 
 Let not fuch flow'ret's meet an early doom, 
 Droop as they fprout, and wither as they bloom :
 
 POEMS. 55 
 
 But bid them flourifh 'neath the fun's kind ray, 
 
 And fcatter bloflbms to eternal day. 
 
 Protect them o'er the fea's tempeftuous roar, 
 
 And land them fafe on India's fertile {bore; 
 
 There let them thrive on her prolific bed, 
 
 And when o'er Eaftern realms their fame has fpread, 
 
 Perfected by the hand of Induftry, 
 
 Unfading grace the Land of Liberty.
 
 56 POEMS. 
 
 STANZAS 
 
 BRITISH OFFICER, 
 
 Separated from bis LADY, by the Fate of War, fion after the 
 NUPTIAL DAY. 
 
 MY friend ! I've often heard thee fay 
 Were I encircl'd midft the fair, 
 
 (And Paris-like, on Ida's mount) 
 To pafs my judgment there. 
 
 A wife to choofe the maid mould be, 
 One with mild attractive pow'r j 
 
 To art unknown, of temper kind, 
 And form'd in Nature's fmiling hour. 
 
 In manners gentle chafte and good 
 Fortune has charms but what care I ? 
 
 Affedion, fenfe, and elegance, 
 Shall ev'ry other want fupply. 
 
 The vain conceited Mifs, I hate, 
 
 I love the girl from pride that's free ; 
 
 And Beauty's vifion pleafes more, 
 Adorn'd with fweet fimplicity.
 
 POEMS. 57 
 
 The model, thus complete, you view'd, 
 What gifts kind Fancy's pow'r beftow'd ; 
 
 The idol kifs'd the phantom fpoke, 
 And fiction into life has glow'd. 
 
 Rejoice, rejoice, the prize admir'd 
 
 Is yours the nuptial feaft prolong, 
 Hymen, ftrike the feftive lyre, 
 
 " And fing aloud the bridal fong." 
 
 Yet, fate fevere ! by cruel war, 
 
 Thus early torn from her you love ! 
 But Glory is the foldier's care, 
 
 And you the foldier's worth fhall prove. 
 
 Her heart, too, heaves the frequent figh ! 
 
 " When will the fun (fhe hourly cries) 
 " His tedious hate courfe, have done, 
 
 " And Hefper wake the evening fkies." 
 
 But vanquifli'd foon Britannia's foe, 
 
 Behold ('tis thine) bright Honor's boon ! 
 
 Jt fliines around thy conq'ring brow, 
 And gilds zfecond honey-moon.
 
 58 POEMS. 
 
 Then, bleft return ! Cupid, fportive boy, 
 Again Love's path with rofes ftrew j 
 
 And as old Time unheard fteals on, 
 Let friendfhip thus, their love renew. 
 
 'Till, when they view, to glad dull age, 
 An offspring dear their fmiles employ, 
 
 Reflecting many an happy hour ! 
 
 When nought difturb'd Youth's fleeting joy. 
 
 Contented reft let mighty kings 
 
 The fceptre fway of empty blifs ; 
 A far more envied ftate is thine, 
 
 And yours the crown of happinefs.
 
 POEMS. 59 
 
 VERSES 
 
 ON A 
 
 BAD DAY. 
 
 WHILST round my cot the rude winds blow, 
 
 Content I fit before my firej 
 Nor does my foul a trouble know, 
 
 Whilft they in mournful plaints confpire. 
 
 Hous'd fafe within this fweet retreat, 
 Ah ! what's the tempeft's roar to me ? 
 
 To me, with every joy replete, 
 Endow'd with true felicity. 
 
 Whilft fullen fportfmen homeward hafte, 
 My thoughts o'er peenefs pleafures rove ; 
 
 Unmindful of the dreary wafte, 
 And feaft upon the charms of love. 
 
 Ah ! what's the hound's alluring cry, 
 Compar'd to lovely EMMA'S voice ? 
 
 Or, who, in feeing Reynard die, 
 
 Such blifs can boaft, or blame my choice ?
 
 60 POEMS. 
 
 As now her bofom heaves the figh, 
 And confcience pi&ures Cupid's dart; 
 
 I read confeflion In her eye, 
 
 Which fpeaks the language of her heart. 
 
 Engag'd in fcenes of fuch delight, 
 The gloomy day has charms for me; 
 
 Nor could the aid of Sol's gay light, . 
 Promote fuch pure felicity. 
 
 Rail on then, Boreas, what care I ! 
 
 Whilft thus I view my love and fire; 
 What greater blifs beneath the (ky, 
 
 Can God permit, or man defire !
 
 POEMS. 6l 
 
 THE 
 
 FLOWER A'ND THE INFANT. 
 
 WHEN firft from Nature's pregnant bed 
 The tender flow'ret rears its head, 
 
 To hail the genial morn ; 
 It bends at every gentle gale, 
 And {brinks within Protection's pale, 
 
 In feeble ftate forlorn. 
 
 But ftrengthen'd by the hand of Care, 
 With modeft, yet majeftic air, 
 
 It fearlefs views the day; 
 Secure within the fafe parterre, 
 Unconfcious of furrounding fear, 
 
 And courts the fun-beam's ray. 
 
 The tempeft's rage no longer dreads, 
 Its fragrant fweets undaunted fpreads, 
 
 And mocks the Gard'ner's aid ; 
 No prefage threats an early doom, 
 No wat'ry bed prepares a tomb, 
 
 Of nought, it thrives, afraid.
 
 62 POEMS. 
 
 While many a pleas'd admiring eye, 
 Behold its odours fcent the fky, 
 
 Exhaling Nature's ftore ; 
 It grows, fuperior flowers among, 
 Its praifes blown by many a tongue, 
 
 Are echo'd o'er and o'er. 
 
 Thus nurtur'd to Perfection's ftate, 
 Perhaps too foon eventful fate, 
 
 Befpreads his fnare around ; 
 Some truant-boy, with mifchief's eyes, 
 Now wanton views the gaudy prize, 
 
 And plucks it from the ground. 
 
 No more in rofeate veft array'd, 
 In one fhort hour its bloflbms fade, 
 
 Which glitter'd erft fo gay ; 
 Its beauties flown, its fragrance gone, 
 He loaths its ruin'd ftate with fcorn, 
 
 And throws the weed away. 
 
 Thus, by Creation's happy power's 
 But, ah ! more helplefs than the flower's, 
 
 The infant's ftate appears ; 
 Juft ufher'd into life diftrefs'd, 
 It mourns, by fecret woes opprefs'd, 
 
 And clad in frequent tears.
 
 POEMS. 63 
 
 In cradle rock'd, or mother's arms, 
 Awake to fancied Fear's alarms, 
 
 It ftarts at every found ; 
 But footh'd its woes, and hufh'd its cries, 
 With inffant joy, and glad furprize, 
 
 It fmiles and gazes round. 
 
 At length to riper days matur'd, 
 No more in nurfery immur'd, 
 
 It fpurns the hand-maid's care ; 
 Like to the Spring's expanding flower, 
 That gathers ftrength from ev'ry fhow'r, 
 
 And braves the fpoiler's fnare. 
 
 Thus blooming forth in virgin ftate, 
 With blufhing pride and heart elate, 
 
 She views the hopeful day; 
 While native beauty moulds her face, 
 And many a charm and many a grace, 
 
 Around the idol play. 
 
 But, ah ! unfkilPd in Vice's art, 
 Seduction wins her fimple heart, 
 
 Allures her fteps aft ray ; 
 Some tempter points where pleafures reign, 
 Deceiv'd, fhe views the rofy plain, 
 
 And quits the thorny way.
 
 64 POEMS. 
 
 His guilty paffion tears approve ! 
 To perjur'd vows of conftant love, 
 
 She falls an eafy prey : 
 He deals bright Virtue's pearly gem, 
 Difgufted views the naufeous ftem, 
 
 And hurls the ftalk away.
 
 POEMS. 65 
 
 THE 
 
 SQUIRE's RETURN TO HIS RETREAT. 
 
 HAIL ! fweet retirement, rural cot ! 
 
 Ye violet banks, ye beds of flowers; 
 Ambrofial (hades delightful fpot ! 
 
 Welcome, welcome, peaceful bowers. 
 
 From London's lures releas'd farewell 
 The Mafquerade, the Route, and Ball j 
 
 Deign me but this fecreted dell, 
 No more I'll tend to Pleafure's call. 
 
 No reftlefs nights here rack my mind, 
 
 No taftelefs joys the day devour ; 
 No entrance here does riot find, 
 
 To cloy the fleeting happy hour. 
 
 No morning knocks aflail the door, 
 
 Announcing Faftiion's num'rous train ; 
 
 The pamper'd porter waits no more, 
 To frown on Poverty difdain.
 
 66 POEMS. 
 
 The fumptuous dinner fmoaks no more, 
 Nor here the Gfallic toaft goes round ; 
 
 No Democrats in frantic roar, 
 
 Fam'd Revolution's praife refound. 
 
 Re-echo'd through Pantheon's rooms, 
 No midnight call rebukes delay ; 
 
 Lord Folly's coach, and Lady Bloom's, 
 No longer ftop the buftling way. 
 
 All here is (till ; in this retreat, 
 
 No diffipation dares to rove ; 
 Of blythe content the blifsful feat, 
 
 And facred to the pureft love. 
 
 Here blufhing ANNA tells her tale, 
 
 And fighs and looks the kindeft things; 
 
 While Farmer Blunt applauds the ale, 
 Nor envy we the ftate of Kings. 
 
 When Phoebus firft awakes the fkies, 
 And fwallows twitter o'er my head ; 
 
 Refrefli'd, from true repofe I rife, 
 And quit compos 'd my downy bed.
 
 POEMS. 67 
 
 At eve the Shepherd's lute attend, 
 Reclin'd the fleecy flocks among ; 
 
 To PHILOMEL attentive bend, 
 And liften to her artlefs fong. 
 
 Then foon retiring home to reft, 
 
 (Prepar'd the ftrawberry feaft and cream) 
 I fink to fleep, completely bleft, 
 
 Immur'd in foft Contentment's dream. 
 
 Thus, thus, the rofy minutes fly, 
 No care of life my blifs devours; 
 
 O, mighty Pow'rs that dwell on high, 
 Prolong thefe happy, happy hours.
 
 68 POEMS. 
 
 WRITTEN 
 
 ON ELWENA's GRAVE. 
 
 NEAR yonder marble tomb, where Folly's name, 
 Exulting fwells in pompous letter'd fame; 
 And ftern Ambition's haughty fculptur'd verfe, 
 The mould'ring inmates mighty deeds rehearfe : 
 The loft ELWENA fleeps ! obfcur'd her bed, 
 No veftige tells where refts her wretched head. 
 Poor, poor ELWENA ! no memoir of thy date ! 
 Nor weeping friend to mourn thy haplefs fate ! 
 But o'er thy grave, thefembre-kated Mufe, 
 Shall forrowing, penfive drains diffufe ; 
 Efface from memory the direful ftain, 
 That foil'd thy virtue in its infant reign. 
 I heard the bell which fummon'd thy frail duft, 
 To feek its dark abode in trembling truft ; 
 I faw thy bier too, carelefs borne along, 
 Amid the fneerings of th' unfeeling throng : 
 When fcarce ere Pray'r or Common Service read, 
 Thy frame was caft unheeding with the dead ; 
 There to repofe, and wait in awful ftate, 
 The final fentence of its deftin'd fate.
 
 POEMS. 69 
 
 Undone EL WEN A ! accurs'd the mad defire, 
 
 That kindled in thy breaft a mutual fire, 
 
 That thus entic'd thy willing (leps aftray, 
 
 To quit, for Pleafure's path, the thorny way : 
 
 When, lur'd by Flattery, down the fecret bower, 
 
 You fell the victim of a guilty hour; 
 
 And, void of honor, virtue, fenfe, and fhame, 
 
 Attach'd to lafting infamy your name. 
 
 Yet o'er thy grave I'll drop fome mindful tears, 
 
 For (till this heart thy blafted worth reveres : 
 
 Each early morn, o'er thy neglected tomb, 
 
 I'll ftrew fweet flow'rets of the choiceft bloom, 
 
 Cull'd from the fpot which tempted thy difgrace, 
 
 And ftole a ruby, worlds could ne'er replace : 
 
 For, jealous in that hour, I watch'd thy filent tread, 
 
 And view'd thee proftrate on the guilty bed: 
 
 Saw the proud tempter clafp thee in his arms, 
 
 And feaft in rich delights thy lavifh'd charms: 
 
 'Twas there, with Indignation's pow'r I ftrove, 
 
 And broke the bond of ill requited love. 
 
 Then funk the profpect of a nuptial day; 
 
 I curs'd my folly tore myfelf away; 
 
 Yet, fleep in peace ! forgivenefs may 'ft thou prove, 
 
 Awak'd in blifsful Paradife above.
 
 yo POEMS. 
 
 SONNET I. 
 
 INVITED oft from Life's dull cares to rove, 
 On fome rude precipice I take my ftand ; 
 
 There fix'd refle6ting on the Powers above, 
 I trace the wonders of Creation's hand. 
 
 Hufh'd in their caves, the winds in fllence fleep, 
 Phcebus illumes the mirth-infpiring day ; 
 
 As o'er the murm'ring whifpers of the deep, 
 He darts in peaceful gleams bis filver ray. 
 
 Rous'd, as by trumpet's found, the winds arife, 
 The angry main aflumes a frothy drefs ; 
 
 The darken'd profpect wears a black difguife, 
 And all around is clad in wild diftrefs ! 
 
 Thus thoughtful on the wife Almighty's plan, 
 How vain and lowly feems the ftate of man.
 
 POEMS. 71 
 
 SONNET II. 
 
 WHERE haughty Neptune heaves his troubled breaft, 
 And the loud wind mourns o'er the ruffled wave; 
 
 On Come lone beech, I take my ftand, deprefs'd, 
 And foothe my forrows o'er a wat'ry grave. 
 
 Or down the margin of fome plaintive ftream, 
 By Moon-light's folitary dawn I rove; 
 
 Watch, playing on the brook, pale CYNTHIA'S beam, 
 And contemplate in hopelefs thought, my love. 
 
 Or, wand'ring o'er the dreary midnight plain, 
 To fome far ivy-colour'd tow'r I ftray ; 
 
 Where the dark fcreech-owl holds his difmal reign, 
 And the black raven wings his boding way. 
 
 Yes, yes, thefe gloomy fcenes to my fad heart, 
 Yield precious balm, and kind relief impart.
 
 72 . POEMS. 
 
 SONNET HI. 
 
 THE night was dark, the tempeft howl'd around, 
 The maniac fea in loud tremendous roar ; 
 
 Rag'd wild diftrefs, with noife profound, 
 
 And dafh'd its torrents 'gainft the rocky fliore. 
 
 The Moon was driven, vanquifh'd from her reign, 
 The dreadful thunder burfted from on high j 
 
 The lightning darted o'er the diftant plain, 
 And fhew'd the horrors of the frightful fky. 
 
 Nor aught was heard ! fave now and then the fcream 
 Of Ihipwreck'd mortals, finking to their grave 3 
 
 Save the dull owl that mop'd its doleful theme, 
 And the fad murmur of the mourning wave. 
 
 'Twas then upon the batter'd beach I flood, 
 And watch'd the motions of the raving flood.
 
 POEMS. 73 
 
 SONNET IV. 
 
 DISTANT VIEW OF HARROW SCHOOL. 
 
 Written at Windfor, 
 
 HAIL ! fweet remembrancer of former days, 
 Thou kind refle&or of my early youth ; 
 
 Beneath whofe learned roof I fought for praife, 
 And trod the way to knowledge and to truth. 
 
 Alas ! ye hills, ye dales, dear haunts of play ! 
 
 Ye focial walks within yon facred bow'r, (t) 
 Where oft I pi&ur'd many a happy day, 
 
 And drew falfe profpedls of the future hour ! 
 
 Where now thofe friends that fwore eternal love, 
 Thofe ties which bound our blended fouls in one ; 
 
 Thofe vows, then made fmcerity to prove," 
 E'er vice or pride to fway the heart begun ? 
 
 Gone are thofe friends like vifions now they feem, 
 And nought remains but Life's delufive dream.
 
 74 POEMS. 
 
 SONNET V. 
 
 WRITTEN 
 
 ON THE CLIFF, BEFORE HOLLAND-HOUSE, 
 IN KENT. 
 
 ON fome lov'd margin of the dreadful deep, 
 
 Where fliipwreck'd fragments mark the naked way j 
 Beneath whofe rude tremendous hanging fteep, 
 Bemoaning fea-birds foar in wild difmay : 
 
 And (burfted from their lone- conceal 'd recefs) 
 
 The furly winds contending howl along, 
 O'er the dark waves now foaming mad diftrefs, 
 Whofe dafhing threats refound the rocks among: 
 
 And tell triumphant to the lift'ning ear, 
 The fate of fome deferted vefTel's crew j 
 
 Whilft angry furges fad diftin&ion bear, 
 As many a ftorm-left veftige floats to view. 
 
 There, there^ my deftin'd fteps delight to ftray, 
 And court the gloom of black November's day.
 
 POEMS. 75 
 
 SONNET VL 
 
 DEAR infancy, bleft period of my days ! 
 
 When youth's gay fcene was fpread with carelefs 
 When Peace prefided o'er my blisful lays, [flow'rs, 
 
 " A child belov'd ' ah, happy, happy hours !" 
 
 That ne'er returns, paft feafon of the year ! 
 
 And O, falfe hope, that fmil'd to grateful view ; 
 That oft would dry the troubled fchool-bdy's tear, 
 
 And o'er the diftant plain Life's fweets would ftrew. 
 
 Scattering, wanton, round, that ne'er would cloy, 
 A thoufand pleafures waiting Manhood's day ; 
 
 Where now thofe views of joy, fucceeding joy, 
 Delights fubfervient to the paffions' fway ! 
 
 Thofe profpedts bright thofe joys of life are o'er, 
 And vain delufion flatters now no more.
 
 76 POEMS. 
 
 SONNET VII. 
 
 SAVILLON 
 TAKING LEAVE OF ROUBIGNE's RETREAT. 
 
 From the Tale of Julia de Roublgne. (MJ 
 
 AH, bleft retreat ! thy fhades compell'd to leave, 
 Thy grots, thy ftreams, and paths of rofy hue ; 
 
 Sweet flow'rs no more the garland gay to weave, 
 Sad mirrors of my happier hours, adieu ! 
 
 The untrodden glade, to love and virtue dear ! (N) 
 To friendfhip facred, and the fleecy throng ; 
 
 Where bleft SAVILLON pafs'd his infant year, 
 And JULIA liften'd to the fliepherd's fong. 
 
 Oh ! Mem'ry unkind ! fuch fcenes thy pow'rs renew, 
 Such walks, fuch thoughts, fuch blifsful days pour- 
 That youth repines, where happy childhood grew,[tray, 
 And looks regardlefs on Life's future day. 
 
 Dreams o'er the paft, its many joys to prove, 
 And tells me Friendjkip was the voice of Love.
 
 POEMS. 77 
 
 SONNET VIII. 
 
 JULIA 
 
 WATERING THE FLOWERS, WHICH SAVILLON HAD PLANTED, 
 WITH HEB TEARS. 
 
 From tie fame, (o) 
 
 S ECRETED objefts of my conftant care ! 
 
 I watch 'd thee rifing from thy bed of earth; 
 Thy odours mark'd perfume the breezy air 
 
 Ah ! plunder'd from the hand that gave them birth. 
 
 Thy blufhes glowing on my virgin cheek, 
 Love's fatal paffion to my heart reveal'd ; 
 
 But, ah ! thy fate fad prefage feems to fpeak, 
 Methinks fome cruel danger lurks conceal'd. 
 
 Bow'd down beneath rude Autumn's yellow blight, 
 Gone are thy bloflbms, and thy beauties o'er ; 
 
 Dark Winter dooms thee to eternal night, 
 May's tranfitory fmile to grace no more. 
 
 Yet nurtur'd by a Guardian JULIA'S tear, 
 Thy forms (hall live, reviving with the year.
 
 78 POEMS. 
 
 SONNET IX. 
 
 SAVILLON 
 CONTEMPLATING THE HARDSHIPS OF SLAVERY. 
 
 From the fame. 
 
 THE tortur'd Slave, in bondage born to die, 
 Torn weeping, frantic, from his native fhore ; 
 
 Looks forward from the brink of mifery, 
 As loud he hears the fallen waters roar. 
 
 To Night's ftill moon he filent tells his grief, 
 Shakes in defpair Oppreflion's galling chain ; 
 
 And meditates efcape implores relief 
 But, oh ! he meditates implores in vain ! 
 
 On no foft breaft his fufP rings find repofe, 
 But, ah, fond hope ! he ftill has life in thee ; 
 
 Pictures a period to fucceflive woes, 
 Nor dreams, alas ! of endlefs flavery. 
 
 Yet light to him thy many hardfhips prove, 
 Who mourns the wound of fecret, untold love.
 
 POEMS. 79 
 
 SONNET X. 
 
 SAVILLON 
 ON THE DEATH OF HIS FRIEND BEAUVARIS. 
 
 From the fame. 
 
 OH, Hope deceitful ! while o'er diftant feas, 
 Thy faded bloflbms to the fenfes bloom ; 
 
 Death, heedlefs fleets along the moaning breeze, 
 And haggard Poverty prepares a tomb. (*> 
 
 Lamented worth of Friendfhip's early hour ! 
 
 An heart was thine to pity facred, and to truth 
 Thefoother kind of Love's corroding power, [fmcere: 
 
 And pure afylum of Affliction's tear. 
 
 As quits the preflure of Life's ftormy night, 
 The man, whofe fecret lofs no friends deplore ; 
 
 So finks thy excellence from earthly fight, - 
 Remember'd by an haughty world no more. 
 
 But the bright emblem fhall SAVILLON fave, 
 Andfnatch thy virtues from Oblivion's grave.
 
 8o 
 
 SONNET XI. 
 
 JULIA 
 WEEPING OVER THE PICTURE OF SAVILLON. 
 
 From tie fame. 
 
 DEAR, cherifli'd image of my childifh love \ 
 Or, Friendfhip's vifion, fliall I call it thine ? 
 
 Ah, fond refemblance ! can reflexion prove, 
 
 That childijh love, and friendfhip, ftill are mine ? 
 
 In JULIA'S bofom is it guilt to lie ? 
 
 On thy pale cheek to drop a thoughtful tear 
 From the wet glafs to wipe the mifty figh 
 
 O Prudence, dictate to my doubtful ear. 
 
 Another's wife ! SAVILLON, in one look, 
 The facred tie of wedlock do I break ? 
 
 Like the fick fwain, that views the moony brook, 
 'Tis but a momentary glance I take. 
 
 Yes, Honor frowns but come, propitious mine, 
 Hence, Virtue, and MONTAUBA^T, I am thine.
 
 POEMS. 8l 
 
 SONNET XII. 
 
 SAVILLON 
 
 A LAST INTERVIEW WITH JULIA, AND DETERMINES ON 
 LEAVING HIS NATIVE COUNTRY FOR EVER. 
 
 From the fame. 
 
 FAR from the fmile of Titan's cheering ray, 
 'Crofs the Atlantic fhall SAVILLON rove; 
 
 There feek fome folitude to grief a prey 
 " The wretched martyr of unhappy love." 
 
 Ah, JULIA ! JULIA ! each vifionary joy, 
 
 Of Love's lorn hope, Life's darker clouds difpel j 
 
 Riches no more my anxious thoughts employ, 
 Dear plans of worldly happinefs, farewell! 
 
 On calm Religion's prop reclin'd at laft, 
 
 I'll drown affliction with futurity; 
 Like the poor maniac fool, forget the paft. 
 
 Weave my ftraw crown, and laugh at mifery. 
 
 Thus the wreck'd veflel, by the tempeft toft, 
 Mocks the mad wave, when ev'ry hope is loft.
 
 82 
 
 SONNET XIII. 
 
 MONTAUBAN 
 
 MEDITATING THE DEATH OF HIS WIFE JVLIA. 
 
 From the faate. (Q.) 
 
 AWAY, away, the joys of foolifh love ! 
 
 This injur'd breaft no more the figh fhall heave; 
 Honor dire&s and Juftice from above, 
 
 O, tell me, fliould the guilty JULIA live ? 
 
 Curs'd jealoufy ! doubts like vifions feem 
 While in a hufband's arms carefs'd me lies ; 
 
 SAVILLON revels in the wanton dream, 
 
 The pi&ure too ? refolv'd, refolv'd, ihe dies. 
 
 Her trembling hand the fatal cup receives 
 Down, down my fenfes to their deftin'd hell ; 
 
 Nowto her lip MONTAUBAN'S health fhe breathes; 
 She di inks ! fhe drinks ! the deed is done, farewell ! 
 
 Rewarded now, my high revengeful foul, 
 Gluts its proud paflion o'er the poifon'd bowl.
 
 POEMS. 83 
 
 SONNET XIV. 
 
 JULIA, 
 IN HER LAST LETTER TO MARIA. (*) 
 
 From the fame. 
 
 FAREWEL,MARiA!onLife'sdullchequer'dfhore, 
 T?or thee may many a fpring its fweets renew ; 
 
 To me her vernal joys return no more, 
 Loft, loft S A VILLON, and the world, adieu ! 
 
 " Oh ! name for ever fad, for ever dear !" 
 In JULIA'S lateft breath thy accents live; 
 
 But foon the heavy figh, the ftruggling tear, 
 Their pangs to memory fhall ceafe to give. 
 
 Wild madnefs feizes on my troubled brain ! 
 Big horrors warn me of approaching fate; 
 
 Poor fick SAVILLON joins the funeral train, 
 " As now 1 enter Death's dark gate," 
 
 Proftrate he lays upon my midnight cell, 
 
 He raves, he ftorms, diftradion ! death ! farewell ! ! !
 
 84 POEMS. 
 
 SAVILLON 
 
 TOMB OF JULIA. (s) 
 
 COME ye, whofe gloomy thoughts thro' darknefs 
 Whofe fated fteps purfue the track of woe; [rove, 
 
 Ye hearts, yet burning with the flame of love, 
 Here heal with grief the wound of Mis'ry's blow. 
 
 Come, (talk with me, along this vaulted roof, 
 Where flumb'ring reft beneath the filer.t dead; 
 
 Here fix your tenement, a facred proof, 
 
 That Sorrow reigns the partner of your bed. 
 
 Ye youth ! whoe'er a JULIA'S love could boaft 
 Stript in the budding blow of early bloom ! 
 
 Here hold your converfe with the nightly ghoft, 
 Which Fancy iflues from this honor'd tomb. 
 
 Hence from the couch that courts the lover's lay, 
 On this cold ftone I'll fix my drear abode; 
 
 Where no fond Cupids fport in wanton play, 
 Or pleafures eafe me from AfHi&ion's load.
 
 /
 
 POEMS. 
 
 Here will I quaff the cup of baleful grief, 
 And fwill, in copious drafts, luxurious woe ; 
 
 Here from the fleeping dead I'll claim relief, 
 And as the dew-drop falls, my tears fhall flow. 
 
 Each morn this fpot with rofes will I ftrew, 
 This fculptur'd buft (hall be my lonely gueft ; 
 
 By moonlight here I'll fit, b'eneath this Yew, 
 And woo the fting of forrow to my breaft. 
 
 Yea, here my fteps fhall ceafe their wearied roam, 
 And ftalk in fable Melancholy's train ; 
 
 Oft (hall they prefs with grief this hallowM tomb, 
 And found thefe echoing vaults in plaintive ftrain. 
 
 Here by this urn my head (hall feek repofe, 
 And lull to balmy reft thefe grief-fwoln eyes ; 
 
 Here fhall my forrow fleep, forgot my woes, 
 'Till Death fhall lay me, where my JULIA lies.
 
 86 POEMS. 
 
 MARIA, 
 
 AN ELEGY, 
 
 FOUNDED ON AN INSCRIPTION, IN A COUNTRY CHURCH-YARD. 
 
 THIS wafted frame, this breaft that heaves the figh, 
 Adown this vifage pale, the tears that flow ; 
 
 This head which long in reft has ceas'd to lie, 
 Profefs a heart, no ftranger Cure to woe. 
 
 Ah ! long this breaft has forrow doom'd to pain, 
 And oft to pant beneath Affliction's load ; 
 
 In vain thefe limbs have ftrove new ftrength to gain, 
 To find relief within their loft abode. 
 
 And long too, Melancholy, fable gueft, 
 
 Here woo'd, has fix'd her grief devoted reign j 
 
 And lur'd my footfteps from the path of reft, 
 To join her penfive folitary train. 
 
 And long thefe eyes, thro' darknefs doom'd to rove, 
 Havebanifli'd from their fight the Sun's glad beams 
 
 And floating down the moon-light tide of love, 
 Have read each forrow in the limpid ftream.
 
 POEMS. 87 
 
 Oft too, by night, they've fought the church-yard 
 To foothe their forrows at MARIA'S {hrine; [drear, 
 
 And, dropping o'er her bed the balmy tear, 
 
 Have bath'd the fod where Beauty fleeps divine. 
 
 Then mufing penfive on the fculptur'd buft, 
 
 Which breathes in letter'd traits her matchlefs fame; 
 How have they lav'd with Pity's dew the duft, 
 That kindred, mingles with her mould'ring frame ! 
 
 Ah ! ne'er a fairer face ! a purer mind ! 
 
 Did Virtue form, or Nature's hand engrave ; 
 Ah ! ne'er fuch fenfe, with beauty was combin'd 
 
 Heav'n ne'er before fuch worth to mortal gave. 
 
 But to Love's tale, an harmlefs ear (he lent, 
 To perjur'd man, (he liften'd and believ'd ; 
 
 Nor fcarce had tailed vice, when fore repent, 
 Her bofom pierc'd, too late, alas ! deceiv'd. 
 
 Heav'n thus witnefling her child's difgrace, 
 Her peace thus flain by man's regardlefs hand; 
 
 It foon recall'd her to her native place, 
 
 By Angels beckon'd from Corruption's land.
 
 88 POEMS. 
 
 And there, MARIA ! may'ft thou find repofe, 
 
 And happy, bleft eternity enjoy : 
 There may thy burthen'd foul (reliev'd its woes) 
 
 True pleafure prove, and nought its reft annoy. 
 
 Oh, there, may this fond heart from torture ceafe, 
 Andjoin'd with thine, forget its every grief; 
 
 For you alone, its forrows can appeafe 
 For you alone, can yield this heart relief !
 
 POEMS. 89 
 
 THE 
 
 BRITISH PRISONER, 
 
 AT SERINGAPATAM. 
 
 Written during the late War ivitb Tirpoo SULTAN, ijuben LORD 
 
 CORNWALLIS -wtufuppofed to be on bit march to tbe Capital of tbu 
 
 EASTERN PRINCE. 
 
 WITHIN thefe fenfelefs walls of ftone, 
 A wretched Captive doom'd to moan, 
 
 Beneath a Monfter's fway ; 
 Oh, tell me, Hope, if e'er again, 
 Thy profp'rous rays will foothe my pain, 
 
 And lead to life the way ? 
 
 Ye flow'ry fields of Albion's fhore, 
 O, mall I ne'er behold thee more, 
 
 Nor hail my native land ? 
 Ah ! like the flave of Afric's coaft, 
 To deareft friends and country loft, 
 
 I view the diftant ftrand. 
 
 Every hour frefh terror brings, 
 Death with all its goading flings, 
 
 Opprefs the mind with fear ; 
 Perhaps, e'en now in torment ftate, 
 Some haplefs Chriftian meets his fate, 
 
 Extorting many a tear.
 
 9 o 
 
 POEMS. 
 
 O Prefage kind, my fate unroll 
 Is it by rope, or poifon'd bowl, 
 
 A wretch is doom'd to die ? 
 Or does the Tyrant's will ordain, 
 His victim, mangled, to fuftain 
 
 A life of mifery ? 
 
 Sad emblems of my future fate, 
 What forms of death my fancy wait, 
 
 Within this lonely cell ! 
 Now iffued forth the dire decree 
 Methinks I hear the Tyrant's plea, 
 
 Revenge ! Revenge ! farewell ! 
 
 Yet, hark ! the trumpet's fhout I hear- 
 Viclory ! Victory ! greets the ear 
 
 'Twas Britain's voice I heard; 
 See, fee, the Tyrant Monfter's dead, 
 The brave Cornwalln bears his head, 
 
 Amid the vanquifh'd herd. 
 
 Meadows, behold, unknown to dread, 
 His laurels waving o'er the dead, 
 
 With reeking fpear in hand ; 
 Whilft many a Chief, by vengeance flain, 
 Expiring fwells the crimfon plain, 
 
 A debt to Albion's land.
 
 POEMS. 91 
 
 The deeds this day by Britons won, 
 Shall gild each morning's rifmg fun, 
 
 More fplendid for his rays ; 
 Humanity with-holds her tear, 
 No tortur'd deaths affright the ear, 
 
 Or kindred forrow raife. 
 
 Bleft hour ! that decks with Conqueft's name, 
 Th' hiftoric page of England's fame, 
 
 And life reftores to me ; 
 Such honors gain'd by warfare's broil, 
 Embalms the fons of Albion's foil, 
 
 Examples to pofterity.
 
 92 POEMS. 
 
 TRIBUTARY LINES, 
 
 ON THE ARRIVAL OF 
 
 MARQJJIS CORNWALLIS, 
 FROM INDIA. 
 
 THRICE welcome Champion to your native ifle : 
 The trumpet fhouts applaufe, the people fmile 
 Accept, O Chief belov'd, the Nation's kifs, 
 Return with mutual joy their happinefs. 
 Tho' India's Tons in tribes their lofs deplore, 
 The IJlancCs happy children weep no more. 
 
 On Albion's cliff was heard the mournful tale, 
 (There wafted by fome fympathizing gale) 
 How groups fat thoughtful on the Eaitern fhore, 
 And anxious watch'd the gloom-infpiring oar, 
 That forc'd from Friendlhip's arms the man rever'd, 
 As thro' repelling waves, a courfe it fteer'd : 
 When (fafe on board) the parting fwallow heav'd a 
 
 figh, (T) 
 
 Long may he live ! Godbhfs htm ! was the blended cry. 
 While flow'd adown each cheek the gen'rous tear, 
 That filent teftified the heart fmcere ;
 
 POEMS. 93 
 
 Sorrows burft, frantic, from the moaning deep, 
 And Pity rous'd the furge beat rocks to weep ; 
 While from their lofty tops in difmal reign, 
 The wretched fea-bird pour'd his plaintive ftrain, 
 'Till the far fail, upon the ocean toft, 
 A farewell bow'd and ev'ry hope was loft. 
 
 On Hift'ry's facred leaf fhall live that day, 
 When Britain's flag, in mild triumphant play, 
 'Mid TIPPOO'S vanquifh'd troop its vicVry told, 
 Demanding Jit/lice from the Tyrant bold; 
 When England's Chief compell'd the treaty fign'd, 
 And taught fubmiflion to his haughty -mind j 
 That day which India's broken reft reftor'd, 
 And fheath'd, in peace approv'd, the Lion's fword: 
 Proud fragments fcatt'ring from the Sultan's plain, 
 The ruin'd emblems of Britannia's gain ; 
 On which her fons fhall rife to brighter fame, 
 And blefs with thanks, their Indian-Saviour's name. 
 
 No cringing flatterer is //>, who now 
 In humble verfe around thy martial brow, 
 (No eafy tafk) the blufhing garland twines; 
 Where Britain's glorious fun immortal fhines ; 
 Let others deck with gems the warrior'.s crown, 
 Enough for me, the fimple wreath to own,
 
 94 POEMS. 
 
 Which fhows more grateful to his noble view, 
 
 When Nature proves the modeft ofPring true. 
 
 But, when in Death's fbft fleep the bafhful ear, 
 
 No more the din of Eulogy can fear ; 
 
 When, full of years, remov'd by Heav'n's decree 
 
 To happier regions of eternity ! 
 
 Then will a Pope arife, and o'er the tomb 
 
 Thy warlike deeds, and private worth mall bloom, 
 
 On record mine admir'd by diftant age, 
 
 And gild with fplendid truth the Poet's page.
 
 POEMS. 95 
 
 VERSES 
 
 ON THE DREADFUL FIRE, AT RATCLIFFE. 
 
 ATTEND, oh Grief ! be thou my penfive guide, 
 Thro' the dark fcene and defolation wide ; 
 Where RATCLIFFE 's afhes fcent the murky air, 
 And loud is heard the figh of deep defpair. 
 What havoc marks the rude obftrucled way, 
 Where Mifchief unappall'd extends her fway ! 
 Yon reeking pile behold ! the ruin'd fpot, 
 Where lately flood the Peafant's humble cot; 
 There Induftry had plac'd its downy bed, 
 And rais'd a pillow for the weary head. 
 (Still flatter'd with the hopes of precious life) 
 The worn-out hufband, and the fickly wife, 
 Endeav'ring to fecure their {lender all, 
 Lie crufh'd beneath the roofs tremendous fall ! 
 Whilft unalarm'd the milky fource it prefs'd, 
 The tortur'd babe finks fcreaming from thebreaft ; 
 Torn from the tafk of foft parental care, 
 The mother (hrieks, and frantic, rends her hair; 
 Her boafted, only pride the father's joy 
 'Mid the fierce flames behold their darling boy;
 
 96 POEMS. 
 
 Ah ! what avail the wretched parents' cries 
 
 Disfigur'd, loft, a parch'd up corpfe he lies ! 
 
 There raves the fon diftra&ed thro' the fire, 
 
 Imploring mercy for his aged Sire ; 
 
 Here ragged orphans, thro' the fragments creep, 
 
 Their kindred trace, and o'er their parents weep. 
 
 The virgin gone; to death an early prey 
 
 To morrow's fun had blefs'd the bridal day; 
 
 See, fee the fwain, to virtuous paflion true, 
 
 Her frame unfolds, and bids a laft adieu. 
 
 In vain for him the voice of comfort cries, 
 
 For him no more a happy morn fhall rife. 
 
 Hark ! burfting from the mournful widow'd train, 
 
 What groans are heard along the troubled plain ! 
 
 The bell tolls forth ! ah! number'd with the dead, 
 
 Is jhe who us'd to prop the forrowing head : 
 
 Who now will guard the unprotected poor, 
 
 " And yield a pittance from their ample ftore ?" 
 
 Ye tribes reliev'd, to you thefe rites belong 
 
 Strike the fad lyre, and found the fun'ral fong ; 
 
 While o'er her grave, to grace the folemn hour, 
 
 The Stranger weeps a teft of Virtue's power ! 
 
 Ah ! many more in rueful, black array, 
 
 Will long lament the inaufpicious day,
 
 POEMS. 
 
 97 
 
 That o'er fweet Concord fpread its awful gloom, 
 
 And fentenc'd Friendfhip to a filent tomb. 
 
 Shall painful Mem'ry then, unheard deplore 
 
 The fate of deareft relatives no more ? 
 
 Can Britain's genuine fons unmov'd, behold 
 
 Thefe difmal fcenes the Mufe has feebly told, 
 
 And yet deny a tributary tear, 
 
 To deck the good man's hearfe the infant's bier ? 
 
 Still further does their gen'rous bounty flow, 
 
 To ftem the torrent of furrounding woe ; 
 
 As when fufpended from the drooping rofe, 
 
 With weight o'erwhelm'd the modeft dew-drop flows, 
 
 Reviv'd beneath Sol's tranfitory ray, 
 
 More bright it glitters to the dreary day. 
 
 So falls untutor'd, from the furcharg'd eye, 
 
 The balmy tear of Britifli fympathy : 
 
 And claims relation to the chryftal flower, 
 
 When facred Charity beftows the dower.
 
 POEMS. 
 
 LINES 
 
 TO A 
 
 YOUNG LADY, 
 
 (UNDER MISFORTUNES) ON HER BIRTH-DAY, WITH THE PRESENT 
 OF A POCKET BOOK. 
 
 ELIZA, dear! this mindful day 
 
 Gave birth to thee I think they fay 
 
 Take then this trifle ; let it prove 
 
 A token of eternal love. 
 
 That love, which conftant, pure, and true, 
 
 My facred bofom early knew. 
 
 When Fortune frown'd around thy bed, 
 
 And Life's endearing fweets were fled, 
 
 Then firfl I felt Affedion's pow'r, 
 
 And view'd thee like a blighted flow'r, 
 
 Juft funk beneath the cruel ftorm, 
 
 And plunder'd of its graceful form ! 
 
 No more in brilliant fair array, 
 
 To emulate the gifts of May. 
 
 But Phoebus ftill fhall prop the ftem, 
 
 Tho' robb'd of Admiration's gem.
 
 POEMS. 99 
 
 Oh, may he ne'er deny his rays, 
 But gild with peace thy future days : 
 May genuine blifs each hour beguile, 
 And virtue live in Wifdom's fmile : 
 Still Life's misfortunes be forgot, 
 And bleft contentment e'er thy lot.
 
 100 POEMS. 
 
 ADDRESSED TO THE AUTHOR, 
 
 FROM G. W. 
 
 WHEN firft the fnow-drop rears its infant head, 
 
 By rural mildnefs nurtur'd in the mead, 
 
 Left fome rude breeze its tender bloom confound, 
 
 It bends in modeft meeknefs to the ground: 
 
 Improv'd in vigor, and matur'd by age, 
 
 Fearlefs it views the tempeft's tranfient rage, 
 
 Courts unabafli'd the fun's all genial ray, 
 
 And fpreads its brighteft beauties to the day. 
 
 So the firft efforts of thy modeft worth, 
 
 In humble chaftenefs pufli its bloflbms forth : 
 
 Untry'd thofe pow'rs which Nature form'd to pleafe, 
 
 They droop and tremble at the flighteft breeze. 
 
 By judgment ripen'd the firft trial paft, 
 
 Boldly they'll brave the rudeft Critic blaft, 
 
 Burft forth in beauty like ethereal light, 
 
 And ftrike with peerlefs tints th' aftonifh'd fight.
 
 POEMS. 101 
 
 FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 
 
 O, STREPHON ! attune thy foft reed, 
 To accents more cheerful and gay ; 
 
 Too much haft thou made the heart bleed, 
 Too oft has it wept at thy lay. 
 
 Ah ! ceafe for LOUISA the tear, 
 Ah ! ceafe for MARIA to mourn; 
 
 Nor wafte in the fpring of thy year, 
 Thofe hours which can never return. 
 
 Go join the brifk dance on the green, 
 Attend the gay nightingale's fongj 
 
 See, Health prefides over the fcene, 
 See, Pleafure enlivens the throng. 
 
 Go, tafte the rich juice of the vine, 
 
 Of innocent mirth be the gueft; 
 Thy wit mall give zeft to the wine, 
 
 Thy good humour fhall feafon the jeft.
 
 102 POEMS. 
 
 LETTER 
 
 TO A 
 
 KENTISH FARMER, 
 
 WITH 
 
 AN EPITAPH. 
 
 SIR, 
 
 BEING in your neighbourhood 
 a few days ago, when taking an evening's walk, 
 I happened to ftroll into Footfcray Church-yard. 
 Led into a train of thinking, occafioned by the fo- 
 lemnity of the fcene, and, contemplating the tran- 
 fltory, uncertain ftate of this world, together with 
 the many ups and downs attendant on man in 
 his paflage through life; among other circum- 
 ftances which ftruck my imagination, a yew-tree, 
 very neatly fenced round with white railing, was 
 one, not the leaft attended to ; and being informed, 
 (upon enquiry) by a perfon who was juft then pafT- 
 ing near the place, that it was the fpot, where, 
 (when it pleafed God to deprive your friends of the 
 pleafure which your fociety affords them) you defign 
 your remains fhall be depofited : I was a good deal
 
 POEMS. 103 
 
 interefted at the intelligence, and queftioned the 
 
 ftranger further as to the character of JOHN T , 
 
 and finding it agreeable to my expectations, I re- 
 clined upon an o'ppofite buft, (having the back of a 
 letter, with a pencil in my pocket) and wrote the in- 
 clofed Epitaph, fuppofmg at the inftant, the event to 
 have occurred ; though, I hope the time (when the 
 fubject which gave rife to the lines in queftion (hall 
 be verified) is yet at a diftant period. 
 
 The tranfcript therefore, which I have been 
 induced to fend you, proceeds merely from a defire 
 to teftify the eftimation in which you are held by 
 fome people, and not from an idea that any merit 
 (fave that of regard) is attached to the performance. 
 
 I remain, Sir, 
 LONDON, May 10, 1791. 
 
 Yours, &c. &c.
 
 104 POEMS. 
 
 EPITAPH, w 
 
 LAMENTED, here, beneath this yew-tree's fhade, 
 The height of human excellence is laid : 
 Tho' wealth, tho' honors, fmil'd not on his birth, 
 Him few could equal none furpafs in worth; 
 Blamelefs, he travers'd Life's intricate ways, 
 And left his actions to his Maker's praife ! 
 Weep, then ye, who worth, who virtue prize, 
 For worth with virtue here congenial lies. 
 Yet flumb'ring only refts his guiltlefs head, 
 Awak'd, again, he'll quit this earthly bed ; 
 When the high Lord his mighty trump {hall found, 
 He'll foar to Heav'n, where the juft are crown'd ! 
 Ye then who read, and hope for Virtue's fame, 
 Purfue his ftepa revere his righteous name. 
 
 (Signed) A PASSER-BY.
 
 POEMS. 105 
 
 EPITAPH, 
 
 ON THE AUTHOR'S SISTER. 
 
 DID Friendfliip's tear fair Virtue's pow'r 
 Did Beauty's grace, or fond parental care, 
 
 Avail in Death's affli6ting hour: 
 
 No teft would here the mournful truth declare, 
 
 How vain, how (hort's the youthful virgin's bloom ! 
 
 How often deftin'd to an early tomb !
 
 106 POEMS. 
 
 LINES 
 
 TO THE MEMORY OF 
 
 THOMAS R MB D, ESQ. 
 
 Wbo died of a FEVER, in the Twenty-third Yc*r of bu Age, lamented 
 and beloved. Writte* by OH impartial Admirer of bit departed Worth. 
 
 OH, Memory ! juft mirror of the paft, 
 
 When joys are flown, and only forrows laft ; 
 
 If e'er a tribute at thy fhrine was due, 
 
 To modeft Worth to Pity or to Genius true ; 
 
 O'er loft, lamented R MB D'S filent urn, 
 
 Thy facred gifts fhall unextinguifli'd burn: 
 Kind youth ! to thee belongs the pearly boon, 
 (Snatch'd from a weeping world, alas ! too foon) 
 And, ah ! how bright the gem whichy?r -angers fhed, 
 O'er the poor relics of the virtuous dead ! 
 No tongue I need thy qualities to prove 
 I read thy lift of virtues in a parent's love, 
 A Mother 3 Hit/band and a Sifter's Sire ! 
 Tbefe light the Mufes' fympathetic fire ;
 
 io 7 
 
 No art was thine, except the art to pleafe ; 
 No lefs'ning vice fo candid Juftice fays : 
 O ye, who knew that Son the Almighty gave, 
 There, view him, bearing to an early grave ! 
 Go mingle dirges with the difmal train, 
 And chant his worth " ah! never to return 
 
 again!" 
 
 See, a fond Sifter's fair religious tear, 
 Wets the lov'd duft, and bathes the funeral bier ! 
 Ah, thence glad parents learn, ere yet too late, 
 Of mortal happinefs how vain's the ftate; 
 How foon are humbled thofe, who, of their fons arc 
 
 proud, 
 
 How foon is each perfection buried in the fhroud ' 
 How deareft wifhes fail are chang'd to grief 
 Then feek the widow's couch with calm relief; 
 And fay howe'er the profp'rous bleffings can, 
 No earthly blifs e'er recompens'd the cares of man; 
 O fay, the child, her fobs, her fighs bemoan, 
 Quits a ftain'd land to grace his Maker's throne ; 
 But, ah ! too recent yet, the tender fore, 
 Dreads the foft touch, when comfort is no more; 
 Let Time, beft balm for ev'ry human woe, 
 Afluage thofe pangs, the fufFrers only know ;
 
 io8 
 
 While Refignation's pow'rs their aid (hall give, 
 With hopes, that after death, the righteous live : 
 Lo ! his pure fpirit, lifted up on high, 
 Smiles thro' the realms of Immortality! 
 Wipes from each kindred cheek Affliction's drop, 
 And fubftitutes the faithful Chriftian's prop.
 
 POEMS. 109 
 
 VERSES 
 
 ON 
 
 A CHURCH-YARD, AT MOON-LIGHT. 
 
 BE calm, my thoughts, whilft thro' this manfion 
 In penfive meditation loft I ftray ; [dread, 
 
 Whilft thro' thefe dreary regions of the dead, 
 With paufing ftep I take my lonely way. 
 
 How fair the Moon! majeftic Queen of Night! 
 
 Enthron'd on high, amid her ftarry train ; 
 How awful gleams her filver orb of light, 
 
 Thro' thefe fad haunts of folitary reign ! 
 
 What ftillnefs dwells the folemn fcene around ! 
 
 O'er thefe dark tenements of filent reft ; 
 What fears and doubts my wandering foul confound ! 
 
 Alas! what terrors croud within my breaft ! 
 
 Ah ! grave! thou dread, yet fure abode of all ; 
 
 Thou final bar to heedlefs man's career; 
 The monarch and the flave muft tend thy call, 
 
 Alike each trembles at thy name with fear.
 
 JIO POEMS. 
 
 No royal pillow here awaits the head, 
 
 Nor here repofe the limbs the (lately chair j 
 
 All herd together in one common bed, 
 Alike the Beggar's and the Prince's fare. 
 
 What now avail Ambition's fleeting charms, 
 The ftar-deck'd veft the fhowy titled car; 
 
 The grave, each inmate of his pride difarms, 
 When conq'ring Death extends his mafly bar. 
 
 Where now the pride which gilds this fculptur'd buft, 
 That tells in pompous traits the warrior's fame? 
 
 His bones and deeds lay mould'ring with the duft, 
 Here fall his honors, and here dies his name, w 
 
 Where now the arm that hurl'd the well-aim 'd dart, 
 And gleam'd its threat'ning terrors o'er the land? 
 
 The fatal fpear which pierc'd the dauntlefs heart, 
 Now lies unbrandilh'd by his nervelefs hand. 
 
 And here the Statesman refts, for fenfe renown'd, 
 No more the patriot liftens to his laws ; 
 
 Here lies his worth entomb'd within the ground, 
 Nor echoes now his voice in Freedom's caufe.
 
 POEMS. 
 
 And there the Infant fleeps within the tomb, 
 Ere fcarce he'd fip'd the care-mix'd drop of life ; 
 
 Here too, the hufband meets an early doom ! 
 And here, forgotten, refts the virtuous wife ! 
 
 Mingled together, difregarded lie, 
 
 The hufband, wife, child, monarch, and the (lave ; 
 At Death's command all pride, all honors die, 
 
 Nor lives diftindtion in the humble grave. 
 
 Alas ! ye tenants of thefe darkfome cells, 
 
 Can'ft tell, if lafting fleep your eyelids clofe ? 
 
 If in thy caverns happinefs e'er dwells, 
 
 Do ye not dream, or wakelefs here repofe ? 
 
 For why, if here, Life's many troubles end, 
 
 Should man thus dread Death's fummons to obey ? 
 
 Why not impute his meflenger a friend, 
 That pitying warns him to his native clay ? 
 
 But there's the doubt that ftops my foul's career, 
 And bids it from a fruitlefs travel ceafe ; 
 
 In vain it ftrives the mazy courfe to fteer, 
 For wand'ring as it foars, the mifts increafe.
 
 112 POEMS. 
 
 Quit then, my toilfome fteps, this hallow'd ground, 
 Nor from your mark'd-out bounds unheeding ftray; 
 
 No longer ftalk in vain thefe tombs around, 
 But homeward from the dead, re-feek your way. 
 
 Nor hence, my lawlefs foul, your flight betake, 
 On dufky pinions thro' the darken'd fky ; 
 
 Bend not your courfe (intelligence to make) 
 Thro* night, alas ! unknowing where to fly! 
 
 Dwell, then, fweet peace, within t 
 
 Thus undifturb'dye manes, forgotten reft; 
 
 Let not this hidden fecret rack my brain, 
 'Till Death reveals it to my anxious breaft.
 
 POEMS. 113 
 
 THE 
 
 COTTAGE IN THE VALE. 
 
 BLEST Cottage, hail! 
 
 In peaceful vale, 
 Of ev'ry joy poflefs'dj 
 
 Where nature fports, 
 
 Retir'd from courts, 
 And gives to life a zeft. 
 
 Soft glides each hour 
 Thro' thy fweet bow'r, 
 
 Nor chides the Sun's delay; 
 But (nines too foon 
 The filv'ry Moon, 
 
 To mourn departed day. 
 
 Hail ! calm retreat ! 
 
 True Wifdom's feat! 
 Unknown to Folly's train : 
 
 From vices free, 
 
 Content there fee, 
 Has fix'd her favor'd reign.
 
 114 POEMS. 
 
 J NS N to you, 
 
 The bard is true, 
 Who fings thy worth to raife ; 
 
 Who tunes his lyre, 
 
 O, happy Sire, 
 To found thy Confort's praife. 
 
 For what can be, 
 More blythe to fee, 
 
 Fond parents fans defpair ; 
 . As fweet they fip, 
 From children's lip, 
 
 The kifs uncloy'd by care. 
 
 Envious ftate ! 
 
 The haughty Great 
 Muft yield the prize to thee; 
 
 Nor fearch in vain 
 
 The Peer's domain, 
 For perfect harmony. 
 
 No gay parade, 
 
 Or mafquerade, 
 Nor op'ra, ball, nor play j 
 
 Can boaft delight, 
 
 So pure and bright, 
 To banifh fpleen away.
 
 POEMS. 115 
 
 O, filent vale ! 
 
 O, happy dale ! 
 Where J NS N fits entwin'd, 
 
 Amid the woods, 
 
 A feat for Gods, 
 Enjoying peace of mind. 
 
 Ye rofeate bow'rs ! 
 
 Ye fragrant flow'rs ! 
 That in the valley dwell ; 
 
 My theme fhall be, 
 
 To fing of thee, 
 And how thy fweets excel. 
 
 The buftling ftrife, 
 
 Of fafliion'd life, 
 And all the gay call blifs ; 
 
 To thee refign, 
 
 To thee confign 
 The crown of happinefs. 
 
 "O, life of blifs! 
 
 " To equal this, 
 " Proud Falhion drives in vain j 
 
 " O, happy pair ! 
 
 " O, happy fair ! 
 " O, happy, happy fwain."
 
 Il6 POEMS. 
 
 SOLAR ECLIPSE. 
 
 STANZAS 
 
 Occaftoned by the WEST KENT COLOURS, a Prefentfrom Her Grace 
 
 /itDuTCHESS e/"DoRSET, being frft produced in Camp, at 
 
 Hanvicb, on tie above Day ; September 5, 1793. 
 
 THAT day (hall mem'ry oft call o'er, 
 When prais'd aloud the Kentifh corps, 
 
 Their Chieftain's grateful name : 
 And bleft by ev'ry foldier's tongue, 
 In air his Confort's worth they fung, 
 
 Whofe deeds like homage claim. 
 
 Thus, glitt'ring o'er the warlike plain, 
 Fair Virtue's Enfign view'd the train, (w> 
 
 Bearing her gift along, 
 By peerlefs female tafte prepar'd : 
 The neighing fteed the boon declar'd, 
 
 And hail'd the loyal throng. 
 
 The ftandard rais'd, as tho' by chance, 
 The Sun beftowing one proud glance, 
 
 Abafti'd his radiance hid : 
 In modeft grace the colours play'd, 
 A confcious blufh their pow'rs pourtray'd, 
 
 Which Sol's feint rays forbid.
 
 POEMS. 
 
 While joyous 'mid the trumpet's found, 
 In hafty march aflembling round ; 
 
 Brave KENT'S intrepid band : 
 The darken'd fky their viflon caught ! 
 They gaz'd proclaim'd the wonder wrought 
 
 By lovely DORSET'S hand.
 
 Il8 POEMS. 
 
 CHOICE OF A WIFE. 
 
 THIS morn, when mufing on the fcenes of life, 
 I fondly drew the model of a wife : 
 Her form was elegant, her drefs was neat, 
 Her manners gentle, and her temper fweet : 
 Wrought by Nature with peculiar care, 
 As pure DIANA chafte as HELEN fair : 
 In fhort, all things were form'd to man's deflre, 
 To fan the blaze to animate the fire, 
 But what, thought I, as beauty fades away, 
 Will there remain to fmoothe Life's wintry day? 
 I then perus'd the beauties of her mind^ 
 And genius found, with fentiments refin'd : 
 Not proud learned enough yet not too wife ; 
 Her inward worth wore Modefty's difguife ; 
 Religion, Truth, and Charity confpir'd, 
 To grace her mind, in every fenfe attir'd. 
 Such was the fair one which my fancy drew, 
 But, when I held her likenefs up to view, 
 And on the picture gaz'd vain wifli, I cry'd, 
 An Angel ne'er on earth did yet refide. 
 Truth, then whifp'ring faid, but this can be, 
 For all thefe requifites in you'll fee.
 
 POEMS. 119 
 
 ADIEU TO COLLEGE. 
 
 FAREWELL, drear College, and thybinding rules; 
 At once the feat of fcholars and of fools ; 
 Where fancy paints each ftudent in his room, 
 With books encircl'd, 'mid the Cloi fter's gloom ; 
 In Locke wrapt up or loft in Newton's lore, 
 The heav'nly regions ftriving to explore ; 
 But oft'ner where, in Bacchanalian roar, 
 His comrades meet, to prove the cellar's ftore. 
 
 Adieu, ye motley fcenes, ye taftelefs joys, 
 Xhy dull iniipid famenefs daily cloys : 
 No more the Chapel-bell {hall break my reft, 
 Or threat'ning raife commotion in my breaft j 
 Nor from the focial board, to ev'ning pray'r, 
 Shall its lone accents bid my fteps repair: 
 The furly porter at the midnight gate, 
 No more (hall bid me College vengeance waitj 
 No more enrol me in the nightly lift, 
 Unlefs the Fee fhould tempt him to defift. 
 Nor hence fhall morning duns my door aflail, 
 To paint diftrefs in Sorrow's woeful tale.
 
 120 POEMS. 
 
 Lord Dnjh, Sir \Villiam Squander^ and fome more, 
 
 Have fled ! and left a moft enormous fcore ; 
 
 Pity my cafe, and let my v/ants prevail : 
 
 With your kind heart^ I'm fure they cannot fail 
 
 Begone, ye canting tribe, with vifage pale ! 
 
 You've drain'd my pocket with your mournful tale. - 
 
 My tinfel'd gown, farewell ! no more to grace 
 
 My difrob'd perfon with thy tawdry lace : 
 
 Stript of my plumage and my honors fled, 
 
 No more the golden taflel decks my head, 
 
 No longer courts obeifance from the throng, 
 
 Or bows from Fellows as I pafs along. 
 
 Nor longer now, the tutor, fage divine, 
 
 My bills will ftretch, or praife my London wine; w 
 
 On fome new velvet cap, vfithfrnir king face, 
 
 His views he'll fix, and bow with abjeft grace. 
 
 The prying pro&or, too, the mean-earn 1 'd fee w 
 
 No more fhall force, to prove his poverty : 
 
 Nor hence fhall bid me tend his ftern commands, 
 
 Or wait forgivenefs, at hisgen'rous hands. 
 
 And thou, fam'd FRANK ! with cheeks of crimfon 
 
 hue, (z) 
 
 Thou true-born fon of Impudence, adieu ! 
 No more thy wit and ready joke to (hare, 
 Or bid fweet SALLY tea and toaft prepare.
 
 POEMS. 121 
 
 My comrades too, farewell ! no more to join, 
 In College pranks, or fwill thy muddy wine : 
 No more to hear the noify fongfter's roar, 
 Or witnefs drunkards fleeping on the floor. 
 
 Such taftelefs joys no real blifs afford, 
 Where vice, inftead of pleafure crowns the board: 
 Where no decorum fways the fenfelefs throng, 
 Nor lovely woman checks the boundlefs tongue : 
 But Bacchus, unmolefted, holds his reign, 
 And dulls, with too much wine, the fumy brain. 
 
 Be mine the fate far happier fcenes to prove, 
 To boaft the prize of fome fair maiden's love ! 
 May time quick kindle in my breaft the flame, 
 Quick fpread its gen'rous ardour thro' my frame : 
 Then Cupid aim thy well-directed dart, 
 And fix it deep in her congenial heart : 
 Thence may we fip the balm of pureft love, 
 Decreed eternal happinefs to prove. 
 
 FINIS.
 
 * S
 
 A FRAGMENT. 123 
 
 THE 
 
 SYMPATHIZING SPORTSMAN; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE COTTAGE OF MISFORTUNE. 
 
 A SENTIMENTAL FRAGMENT. 
 
 IT was a burning firft. of September I had taken 
 a fporting box for a couple of months at a confider- 
 able diftance from the metropolis, in the county of 
 
 , and had rifen at dawn of day, to enjoy 
 
 a diverfion, to which from my early youth I had been 
 immoderately attached. Being mafter of two brace 
 of pointers, it was my plan to hunt them alternately. 
 Don and Plato were my companions fixed upon to 
 welcome Aurora's beams, and to ufher in the feafon ; 
 it is not here neceflary to detail their qualities, fuf- 
 fice it to obferve, they were fuch dogs in the aggre- 
 gate as few fportfmen could boaft.
 
 124 A FRAGMENT. 
 
 The game was fcarce, and the harveft backward, 
 and I had fagged along till noon, without being gra- 
 tified by a {ingle point: defpairing of fuccefs, and 
 a good deal fatigued, I reclined upon a ftile, in that 
 languid ftate of fufpenfe, which a fportfman feels 
 when difappointed in his expectations, and contem- 
 plating his future plan. The fcene around was 
 calculated to infpire reflection, being romantic and 
 pi&urefque ; on each fide were fields of waving 
 corn, behind a woody dell, at the bottom of which a 
 bubbling ftream foftly murmured its irregular courfe : 
 the profpect before prefented a grafly lawn, about a 
 mile in extent, interfperfed with fpreading oaks, and 
 here and there, flood a folitary fhrub, a fad remnant, 
 as it feemed, to tell the enquiring paflenger that the 
 fpot had formerly been the refidence of grandeur and 
 magnificence. 
 
 Pleafed with the delightful folitude, it was fome 
 time before I difcovered a fmall cottage, which raifed 
 its humble top, fituated upon a rifing flope, at the 
 extreme verge of that lawn I have defcribed. 
 Undetermined as to my future route, added to a 
 total ignorance of the country, I was induced on 
 the fcore of information to approach it; befides, a 
 material part of my apparatus, through eagernefs in
 
 A FRAGMENT. 125 
 
 the morning to commence the fport, had been for- 
 gotten ; it was my leather bottle filled with choice 
 Madeira, that had thrice voyaged it round the Cape, 
 and which I had placed on the table a few minutes 
 only before my fetting out : a draught of new milk 
 would have been a luxurious banquet to a tired and 
 thirfty fportfman. On a nearer afpe& of this almoft 
 rooflefs tenement, (its outfide confifting literally ot 
 clay and (licks interwoven together) it feemed more 
 like a fhed for cattle, to feek refuge under from the 
 adverfe ftorm, than the habitation of a human being ; 
 but what was my furprize, when on entering, in- 
 ftead of finding a fhepherd,' or a cow-boy, to direct 
 my weary fteps, fir etched on the bed, (or rather the 
 floor) of poverty, in a dirty linen garb, lay apparently 
 in ficknefs, one of the faireft forms of Nature's 
 work flaxen ringlets, remarkably long and ftriking, 
 meandered in difhevelled order, nearly to the bot- 
 tom of her waift. The figure of an aged matron, 
 with her head inclined downwards, and clafping a 
 delicately white hand, fat forrowing by her fide. 
 Loft in wild admiration, I had gazed fometime un- 
 perceived, when Plato bounced paft, and put an end 
 to my reverie.
 
 126 A FRAGMENT. 
 
 Addreffing the old woman, who had juft raifed her 
 eyes from the ground, I approached, and my conjec- 
 tures were confirmed. Death feemed fufpended but 
 for a few minutes : the fair object of my enquiry 
 appeared infenfible to what patted; her countenance 
 which was engagingly expreffive, pourtrayed the 
 mixed traits of forrow and hopeful refignation; her 
 eye-lids half clofed, difplayed long dark lafhes, the 
 more beautiful from the contraft of light hair, and, 
 though evidently in extreme illnefs, her cheeks ftill 
 retained a faint glow which flattered with {lender 
 hopes of life : it was that kind of face which would 
 at once attradt the beholder's admiration; and 
 though it might not, perhaps, bear pulling to pieces 
 by the fcrutinizing eye of female envy, yet boafted the 
 charm of modeft fweetnefs, blended with good-nature, 
 morepleafmg fometimes, than the regular lineaments 
 of perfect, but often inanimate beauty. 
 
 No time was to be loft ; interrogatories and an- 
 fwers fucceeded each other, and I found from her 
 guardian nurfe, that MARIA had been feized with 
 a pulmonary complaint (under which fhe frequently 
 laboured) three weeks fince, lingering in the ftate 
 I beheld her, with little relief or affiftance the whole
 
 A FRAGMENT. 127 
 
 time; the Doftor^ to be fure, had fent her fome 
 draughts, (a few empty phials lay fcattered on the 
 ledge of a broken window, expofed to the north 
 wind, which at intervals blew directly upon MARIA'S 
 emaciated frame ;) in truth, her little all was ex- 
 pended, and Sangrado, in his profeflional purfuits, 
 obferved one invariable rule : it was his maxim 
 never to labour in vain. 
 
 Gracious Heaven ! thought I, and is Beauty's 
 lovely offspring thus fuffered to perifli, unpitied and 
 unaffifted ? It was a good three miles to the vil- 
 lage where the Doctor lived, but directed to a neigh- 
 bouring farmer, by the help of a ready faddled deed, 
 I difpatched an honeft countryman, who in lefs than 
 an hour had reached the hamlet, and returned again 
 with this ragged fon of Efculapius^ who refembled 
 much the defcription of Shakfpeare's Apothecary; 
 but, alas ! our efforts were vain. MARIA had juft 
 breathed her laft, and lay a clay-cold corpfe. A fe- 
 rene fmile, the emblem, as it appeared, of happinefs, 
 fat upon her lifelefs features; lovely even in death. 
 Moved with the affecting fcene, I gazed in filent for- 
 row, and dropped fome tears upon her Angel form : 
 the Doctor's countenance evinced little concern, 
 his heart and Edmund's were made of different
 
 128 A FRAGMENT. 
 
 materials : perhaps a profeffion which expofed 
 him often to fimilar fcenes of diftrefs, might have 
 harden'd his feelings, and rendered them callous to 
 thofe fenfations which EDMUND felt; and that af- 
 fliction, which he could not witnefs without par- 
 ticipating the tender effufions of poor old MARGA- 
 RET'S grief for fhe fat weeping bitterly by the 
 bed- fide of her departed friend. I rewarded this 
 mock Phyfician^ (a diftinclion he had aflumed) for 
 his trouble, and we parted. 
 
 Too much interefted with my adventure, and pre- 
 vented by humanity abruptly to leave the cottage, 
 I had now time for reflection ; and curiofity as well 
 as other motives, prompted me to inveftigate the 
 labyrinth in which I was immured, and to unravel 
 a myftery, at once fo novel and romantic. I learned 
 from the good old woman, that fhe had known 
 MARIA about fix months, previous to which fhe 
 had lived in the fervice of a widow lady in the neigh- 
 bourhood ; but that on finding the work too hard for 
 a fickly conftitution, fhe left her place, and had fmce 
 fought a livelihood by making of bafkets, (an art 
 which fhe herfelf had taught her) and carrying 
 them for fale about the country; adding, that MARIA 
 had often told her, fhe was by birth and education
 
 A FRAGMENT. 
 
 a gentlewoman. That flic had written a little hif- 
 tory of her life; but, never having been inftru&ed 
 in writing, ftie knew not what it contained. 
 
 I defired her to produce the memorial, I peru- 
 fed it in tears ; and, if I had only wept before, I now 
 felt the pangs of real diftrefs; penned in a ftyle that 
 would have done credit to a performance compofed 
 at any age, with the advantage of claflical erudition ; 
 {he enumerated in pathetic language, as far as recol- 
 le&ion enabled, the innocent pleafures of her early 
 infancy, advancing in a progreflive manner to the 
 period which clofed her exigence. The daughter 
 of a country gentleman, and heirefs to a confiderable 
 fortune, fhe had received a brilliant education, be- 
 loved by her friends, and happy in the affedlion of a 
 tender parent. Thus had the fleeting years rolled 
 on in peace and gaiety, till that age when the mind 
 begins to expand, and love, often in the garb of 
 friendfhip, fteals, byfoft infinuation, its unobftrudted 
 paflage into the female bofom. Among others who 
 vifited at her father's, was a gentleman of fmall pro- 
 perty in the Weft-Indies, agreeable in his perfon, 
 and of amiable manners and difpofition : attached 
 by mutual inclination, happinefs or mifery depended 
 on their union or feparationj and at length in the
 
 I3O A FRAGMENT. 
 
 frantic hour of intoxicated love, they eloped, and fet 
 fail for Barbadoes, where the marriage ceremony was 
 to be folemnized, but ere they had reached the 
 anxious port which was to crown all their wifhes, 
 the being in whofe fate was centered her every 
 thought, inherited a watery grave : a fatal fhip wreck 
 had been the confequence, and MARIA, with five 
 mariners only, (by whofe afliftance fhe had furviveJ 
 the ftorm) were the fad remainder of the haplefs 
 crew ; and, but for them, when returning fenfe in- 
 formed her of her lofs, (he would have daflied from 
 the rock which favored their efcape, and perifhed 
 with her lover in the devouring deep : but fhe was 
 referved for future mifery : left to fcale the fummit 
 of defpair and wretchednefs, caft on a ftrange fhore, 
 friendlefs and unknown, and all parental concern 
 eftranged, me became a prey to defpair and want, 
 which at length rendered her an eafy conqueft to the 
 wiles of man ; but fcarce had fhe culled the glaring 
 flowers of vice, than withering in her hand, fhe 
 hurled them from her touch; returned difgufted 
 from the gaudy path, and fought again, repenting, 
 the tracks of virtue. Once more landed by her 
 falfe admirer, (who promifed a fafe paflage) on her 
 native fhore, hopelefs and forlorn, fhe determined
 
 A FRAGMENT. 
 
 '3* 
 
 on the more pleafurable occupations of humble life ; 
 for however fweet the rofes with which illufive 
 fancy may deck the ways of vice and diffipation, 
 woeful experience proves that there lurks beneath 
 them many a poifonous thorn ; whilft the peaceful 
 avenues which lead to Virtue's facred temple, are 
 ftrewed with evergreens, that flourifh in undecaying 
 and immortal purity. With thefe reflections, (he 
 wandered from village to village in fearch of em- 
 ployment, and at laft had found, if not a happy, at 
 leaft a calm afylum in the retreat of induftry. 
 
 Thus, the unpitied victim of remorfe, fhe had 
 only reached her three-and- twentieth year, when 
 death clofed an exiftence, which could not have been 
 prolonged but in miferv. But for that one irre- 
 trievable error, her character was fair and fpotlefs : 
 could .that have been effaced, and had it pleafed the 
 Almighty to have reftored her to the world, as Sterne 
 thought of his MARIA, fo would I have thought of 
 my MARIA, and have realized his fentiments. 
 Yes, MARIA, I would have warmed thee in my 
 own bofom; thou ftiouldft have fat at the fame 
 board with me, have fhared the fame repaft, and have 
 been to me perhaps a wife: but fate and heaven or- 
 dained it otherwife, and it is well. Wrapt up in
 
 132 A FRAGMENT. 
 
 fentiment, I left the humble roof which had given 
 birth to the moft interefting fcene in a yet unex- 
 perienced life, and plodded my way in the dufk 
 of evening to my retired cot, fatigued and for- 
 rowful. 
 
 My mind entertained not the fmalleft doubt re- 
 fpefting the truth of MARIA'S narrative ; and had 
 I been inclined, I wiflied not to queftion its veracity. 
 After neceflary refrefhment, I fought the pillow of 
 repofe, and awoke the next morning, as it were 
 from a vifionary dream, and fcarce able to convince 
 myfelf, that the fcene I had been witnefs to, was 
 more than the mere illufion of fancy. Alas ! it was 
 but too true ! the pleafures of the field were for the 
 prefent only a fecondary confederation ; my thoughts 
 were more pleafmgly engaged : a few guineas made 
 but a fmall decreafe in my finances, and when ex- 
 pended in the caufe of humanity, the idea became 
 doubly pleafing. I refolved, therefore, on feeing 
 MARIA decently interred; and ere a week had 
 elapfed, her poor remains, attended by a few village 
 peafants, were borne to their long dark abode, un- 
 honoured by the tear of pity, or the groan of lamen- 
 tation ; but that they might reft in peace, and revive 
 irihappinefs, was the prayer of EDMUND.
 
 A FRAGMENT. 133 
 
 Though, from motives of delicacy, and to avoid 
 the abufe of unmerited fcandal, I mixed not in the 
 train at MARIA'S funeral, (a tafk which would have 
 been a gloomy fatisfa&ion to one of my difpofition) 
 yet often during my retirement would I vifit alone, 
 as it were by ftealth, her deferted grave, and ftrew 
 it with autumnal flowers : my enthufiafm was car- 
 ried to a romantic height, and the circumftances 
 have left an indelible impreffion on my memory. 
 On the annual return of that day which gave them 
 birth, I purfue my fport in a kind of penfive pleafing 
 melancholy, intermingled with undefcribable fenfa- 
 tions of regret and happinefs, and fighing repeatedly, 
 as I mufe along, alas, MARIA ! 
 
 (Signed) 
 
 EDMUND.
 
 134 LETTER. 
 
 " Ah, little think the gay, licentious, proud, 
 Whom pleafure, power, and afflueiice furround ; 
 They, who their thoughtlefs hours in giddy mirth, 
 And wanton, often cruel, riot wafte; 
 Ah, little think they, while they dance along, 
 How many feel, this very moment death, 
 And all the fad variety of pain: 
 How many Gnk in the devouring flood, 
 Or more devouring flame : how many bleed, 
 By fliameful variance betwixt man and man : 
 How many pine in want, and dungeon glooms; 
 Shut from the common air, and common ufe 
 Of their own limbs : how many drink the cup 
 Of baleful grief, or eat the bitter bread 
 Of mifery: fore pierc'd by wint'ry winds, 
 How many {brink into the fordid hut 
 Of cheerlefs poverty :" THOMSON. 
 
 LETTER 
 
 TO THE 
 
 EDITOR OF THE TIMES. 
 
 ( Written during the late fevere Winter. ) 
 
 Mr. EDITOR, 
 
 THE preceding lines (which 
 I think fhould be engraved on every perfon's hand- 
 kerchief, at this time fo frequently coming in con- 
 tact with the watery eye and the running noftril)
 
 LETTER. 135 
 
 occurring to my recollection, when contemplating 
 the lamentable ftate to which many of my fellow- 
 creatures are reduced by the prefent rigid feafon, 
 have induced me to addrefs you on the fubjecl: of phi- 
 lanthrophy: you are at all times ready, Sir, to (land 
 forth a Champion in the caufe of the diftrefled, and 
 are daily the defender of your Country, and the 
 bleffings which Engliflimen enjoy. 
 
 Generofity has ever been the juft chara&eriftic of 
 the Britifh Nation, more particularly fince the un- 
 happy revolution in France ; and I am glad to find, 
 in your paper of this day, that the Duke of 
 N TH BER ND has fet the laudable example of 
 relieving the neceflitous: but it not unfrequently 
 happens, that thofe who are blefled with wealth, are 
 lefs fenfible to the fufferings of their inferiors, than 
 others, whofe inclinations would lead them, but 
 whofe circumftances will not permit them, to afford 
 fubftantial relief. Like the Poet therefore, I ad- 
 drefs myfelf, not to thofe whofe hearts are open to 
 charity, but to others, who rolling in immenfe riches, 
 feem to confider their ftarving countrymert an order 
 of beings diftinct from themfelves, and merely born 
 to contribute to their own eafe and confequence: 
 fuch characters there are in this metropolis, and
 
 136 LETTER. 
 
 fuch men deferve the lafh of rebuke. It appears 
 contrary to the principles of nature, that avarice 
 fhould be the vice of old age, but fo it is : the Mifer 
 tottering upon the brink of the grave, ftill hugs him- 
 felf over his bags of gold, and at the laft hour, when 
 Death's alarum bell fummonfes him to his dark 
 abode, his countenance will brighten up from the 
 reflection of the beloved metal, fo interwoven with 
 his thoughts, 
 
 At this time, no individual whatever, placed 
 above the frings of indigence, can be excufed 
 from contributing his mite towards filling the crav- 
 ing coffers of the needy. How juft then is cenfure, 
 when aimed at thofe, whofe fituations enable them 
 to diftribute univerfal good, and who neglect this 
 important Chriftian duty. Let them banifh from 
 their memory the mean proverb, Charity begins at 
 home y and inftead of proftituting their ftately man- 
 fions to oftentatious hofpitality, convert them into 
 temporary afylums for the poor. Let the haughty 
 Patrician, indulging on the canopy of coftly comfort, 
 reflect, that many are they who at the fame inftant 
 are perifhing on the cold ground. Let the fafhion- 
 able Spendthrift, inftead of carrying his hundreds 
 to the Pharo Table, vifit the flied of penury, and
 
 LETTER. 137 
 
 dive into the dungeons of the wretched. The paths 
 to mifery are not fo intricate but that he may readily 
 
 trace the way. A Dutchefs of D VON IRE, 
 
 when glittering through power and affluence, in the 
 meridian of beauty, and the Englifh youth flutter- 
 ing in her train, difdained not to vifit the cottage 
 of want, and the prifon of the unfortunate. She for- 
 got not her own fpecies, and remembered fhe was 
 but mortal : her actions evince that fhe conftantly 
 carries in her fympathetic bofom, the mottos, y>w0< 
 a-tavToi, Memento mori : (know thyfelf, let me remem- 
 ber that I am to die) and reflecting that fhe owed 
 her envied dignity to mere chance, or that Provi- 
 dence had thus exalted her, in order to difpenfe 
 good to others, fhe judged it her duty to cheer the 
 miferable, and to dry up the tear of affliction. 
 Amiable Senfibility ! lovely Philanthropift ! fur- 
 rounded by the vanities of a captivating feducing 
 world, fhe knew how tranfitory was its ftate, and 
 how empty the word greatnefs, except when attached 
 to purpofes of benevolence. No oftentation direds 
 her liberal hand, for her fupplies are -generally fecret, 
 and the wretched object of her companion, knows 
 not from whence the generous portion comes. Such 
 examples ought to be held up to public admiration.
 
 Let others, endowed with equal means, put on her 
 God-like nature, and difpatch their private agents 
 in fearch of wretchednefs. It is inconfiftent with 
 the belief of a great and merciful Providence, to 
 fuppofe, when looking down upon an hundred of 
 his creatures, that he mould doom ninety-nine to 
 mifery, and one only to every bleffing which the ter- 
 reftrial world can beftow : he has doubtlefs wifely in- 
 tended, that that one, fo eminently diftinguifhed 
 from the reft, was for the purpofe of conveying 
 happinefs to a certain portion of his fellow-crea- 
 tures j and Heaven will never countenance fuch vile 
 perverfion of her gifts as (he muft daily witnefs. 
 Ye fons ofaffluence and oftentation, reflect that 
 the grave knows no diftindlion ; and that the foul, 
 ftriptof its gaudy apparel, and covered only with its 
 worldly vices, will appear poor indeed, when cited 
 before the dread tribunal of an impartial Judge, and 
 an offended Creator. 
 
 Thefe reflexions, Mr. EDI TOR, naturally lead the 
 Philanthropift to confider the fituation of the Emi- 
 grant Refugees, towards whom this country has dif- 
 played fuch commendable and unexampled fupport; 
 and the additional influx of Foreigners, which the 
 perturbed State of Holland is now daily pouring in
 
 LETTER. 
 
 139 
 
 upon us, demands the ferious attention of Government, 
 and of every Englifhman. Let us ftill continue to 
 imitate the example of the good Samaritan, and pour 
 oil into the wounds of the afflicted ; but at the fame 
 time, let us watch at the doors of Frenchmen^ in or- 
 der to diftinguifh the fnake in thegrafs, from thofe,. 
 whofe fituations claim commiferation, and pull 
 from the face of the perfidious the mafk of hypocrify. 
 Such men are fuccoured in this capital, and who, 
 fhould their countrymen ever realize their chime- 
 rical and phantom-like invafion, will be the firft to 
 re-unite under the crimfon banners of their brother 
 murderers and robbers. But fear not, Britons! 
 " England," (as Mr. Wyndham obferved in a late 
 debate, in bold and manly language) " has met 
 France fingle-handed in her proudeft day." Let 
 our croaking Jacobins, recall to mind the Invincible 
 Armada : let them picture the fleets of Spain, oc- 
 cupying feven miles in length upon the threatening 
 ocean, terrified at the undaunted cliffs of Albion, 
 and beaten from her fhore, the remnant of. their co- 
 lours transfufed with blufhes, returning difmantled, 
 and in fliameful confufion to their own coafts. If 
 ever the boafted determination, Delenda eft Carthago y 
 fo often quoted in the Convention, is fulfilled, it
 
 140 LETTER. 
 
 will be by the fons of our own foil. Rome, humble 
 as {he now appears, was once the haughty miftrefs 
 of the world, and what was the caufe of her down- 
 fall? that laid her temples in afties, and levelled 
 her profperity with the duft ? Luxury and Diffi- 
 pation; and Luxury and Diffipation are the only 
 foes of which Britannia need ftand in awe. Let us 
 prepare for the event, but let the idea of an invafion 
 vanifh ; but fuppofing it accomplifhed, and the 
 French actually landed upon Englifh ground; the fons 
 of Albion are ready to rife in arms to protect their 
 rights, their property, and every thing that is dear 
 in life : the manufacturer to leave his loom, the huf- 
 bandman his plough, and the mechanic his trade. 
 Let the ftandardof CONSTANTINE be railed in the 
 middle of our Ifland, and its every inhabitant, me- 
 tamorphofed into a temporary warrior, furrounded 
 with rocks and waves, and no hopes remaining, but 
 in refiftance, will rally round its facred influence at 
 the trumpet's folemn (bout, in defence of their God, 
 their Families, their Country, and their King! 
 While our fair Chriftian Country-women, with 
 anxious but undifmayed countenances, their infants 
 protected within the ramparts of their arms, will 
 watch at their doors like Spartan Matrons (the ties.
 
 LETTER. 141 
 
 of natural afte&ion for a while fufpended) to in- 
 quire, not the fate of their hufbands, their fons 
 or their relatives, but " if the Battle's won ?" and 
 " with this,'" Britons, "ye Jball conquer! / /" 
 
 I am, Sir, yours, &c. 
 (Signed) 
 
 ^DEFENDER of the POOR, 
 
 LONDON, 
 
 Januarys, 1795. 
 
 And of my COUNTRY, 
 
 %* It may be proper to obferve, that the above Letter (being 
 periodical, and partly of a political nature) was introduced here, 
 in conlequence of a particular requeft; but the Author prefumes 
 no apology will be deemed neceflary by the Reader, from thofe 
 who efpoufe the caufe of the wretched, at any time, or in any phut.
 
 NOTES AND EXPLANATIONS. 143 
 
 NOTES AND EXPLANATIONS. 
 
 NOTE A. 
 
 ADIEU TO HARROW. Line 14. 
 " We've painted future blifs o'er Windred's ale." 
 A Public-houfe famous for good ale. 
 
 NOTE B. 
 
 SAME POEM. Line 19. 
 And you, Black Ben, who oft with threat'ning nod." 
 
 Black Ben ! a mifnomer applied by the Boys to 
 Dr. H , the head Matter. 
 
 NOTE C. 
 
 SAME POEM. Line 25. 
 " My ARNOLD ! fhall I quit, unnotic'd, you? 
 
 The Lady with whom the Author boarded ; and 
 he here takes an opportunity to acknowledge her 
 kindnefs and prote&ion.
 
 144 NOTES AND EXPLANATIONS. 
 
 NOTE D. 
 
 SAME POEM. Line 33. 
 *' Adieu, fweet Grove, beneath vvhofe fpreading fhade." 
 
 The Grove belonging to Sir JOHN RUSHOUT'S 
 houfe, where the head boys were allowed accefs, and 
 ufed frequently to compofe their verfe exercifes. 
 
 NOTE E. 
 
 SAME POEM. Line 37. 
 ' And you, ftern Lion, who with roaring voice." 
 
 A Lion is reprefented, and placed on the top of 
 the School, over the Bell, from the Founder's name 
 being Lion. 
 
 NOTE F. 
 
 VERSES on the Ruins of the PANTHEON. 
 
 Line i, Stanza 11. 
 " Ye made-up groups, no more to vault in air." 
 
 The Author here collected the fentiments of JOHN 
 BULL ; attended to the fcene of ruin by a fox-hunt- 
 ing companion, who had little relifh for thefe refined 
 amufements; he appeared much delighted at the
 
 NOTES AND EXPLANATIONS. 14$ 
 
 many imprecations vented by the populace againft 
 the poor Italians ; and on parting, requefted me to 
 exercife my poetic talents, (fuch as they were) in la- 
 menting the downfal of fo noble a building, but at 
 the fame time by all means to banifh the Italian race 
 from the foil of Britain. 
 
 NOTE G. 
 
 SAME POEM. Line I, Stanza 13. 
 " Quick then, depart from this ill-fated Ifle." 
 
 From the fingular circumftance of two Opera- 
 houfes being confumed by fire, in fo fhort a fpace of 
 time; viz. The King's Theatre, and the Pantheon, 
 then ufed as an Opera-houfe. 
 
 NOTE H. 
 
 SAME POEM. Line 4, Stanza 13. 
 " But fecret keep what ><*/ would blufh to tell." 
 
 Alluding to the immenfe falaries lavlfhed on 
 Italian performers.
 
 146 NOTES AND EXPLANATIONS. 
 
 NOTE I. 
 
 ELEGY on the Departure of a Family from a, 
 COUNTRY-HOUSE. Line i, Stanza 2. 
 
 " When mufing, Sedley, 'mid thy blooming flowers." 
 
 Sedley ! a fictitious name fubftituted for the real 
 one. 
 
 NOTE K. 
 
 SAME POEM. Line 2, Stanza 2. 
 " Forgetful Pride appear'd with wand in hand." 
 
 Particular circumftances occafioned the writing 
 of this Poem, which cannot be explained to the 
 ftrange reader, (at leaft in a note) and thofe who 
 know the author, are fufficiently acquainted with 
 them. 
 
 NOTE L. 
 
 SONNET IV. Line 6. 
 " Ye focial walks within yon facred bow'r." 
 
 Sacred JSow'r! The Grove, facred to the Mufes.
 
 NOTES AND EXPLANATIONS. 147 
 
 NOTE M. 
 
 SONNET VII. 
 
 SAVILLON taking leave of ROUBIGNE'S RETREAT: 
 
 From the Tale of Julia de Roubigne'. 
 
 Julia de Roubigne is a well-known Tale, in a feries 
 of Letters, tranflated from the French, and the fingu- 
 lar circumftance which directed them into the hands 
 of the original poffeflbr, renders it not improbable, 
 that the ftory they relate is the recital of truth ; and 
 there may poffibly have exifted a Savillon and a Julia^ 
 as there did an Abelard and an Eloife, The follow- 
 ing notes are added in explanation of thofe paflages 
 from whence the Sonnets are taken. They who 
 wifli to be more particularly acquainted with Julia 
 de Roubigne, are referred to the ftory in toto : 
 it will pleafe fuch as delight in the perufal of a 
 mournful tale, and who blufh not, in condefcending 
 occafionally to vifit the regions of romantic woe. It 
 differs from the common run of thofe productions, 
 entitled Novels, in which is generally found a mix- 
 ture of good and bad, high and low charadter. Here 
 the charadters are all noble, the fentiments refined, 
 and the language penfively beautiful.
 
 148 NOTES AND EXPLANATIONS. 
 
 Savillonand Julia were the children of two friends. 
 Savillon's father had been unfortunate, and Julia's 
 parent had been the friend of his misfortunes : they 
 had never told their love, but the eyes, thofe faith- 
 ful indicators of a virtuous paffion, had expreffed it 
 in more forcible language than the tongue could 
 have done : ignorant of that period when love ceafed 
 to be the love of children, and friendfhip grew into 
 paffion; Savillon's departure, (whofe deft iny drives 
 him from his native country) firft revealed to them 
 their fatal attachment; with a beating heart he 
 leaves the coaft of France, in fearch of that wealth, 
 which he valued only, that it might render him the 
 more worthy of Julia. While abroad, a falfe report 
 prevails of Savillon's marriage, which induces Julia, 
 in obedience to parental wifhes, to accept the hand 
 of Count Louis de Montauban, the friend and bene- 
 factor of her father Pierre de Roubigne, but her 
 heart knows no other than Savillon ; and from thefe 
 unhappy nuptials iflues the melancholy fequel, 
 
 NOTE N. 
 
 SONNET VII. Line 5. 
 " Th' untrodden glade, to love and virtue dear!"
 
 NOTES AND EXPLANATIONS. 149 
 
 " In the recefles of Roubigne's retreat, there was a 
 wild and rocky dell, where taftelefs wealth had never 
 warred on nature, nor even elegance refined or em- 
 belliflied her beauties. The walks were only worn 
 by the tread of the fhepherds, and the banks only 
 fmoothed by the feeding of their flocks : there, too 
 dangerous fociety ! did Savillon pafs whole days with 
 Julia : there, more dangerous ftill ! did he pafs whole 
 days in thinking of her." See Julia de Roubigne. 
 
 NOTE O. 
 SONNET VIII. 
 
 JULIA watering the Flowers, which SAVILLON had 
 planted, with her Tears. 
 
 " The day previous to Savillon's departure for 
 Martinique, while taking an evening walk about the 
 grounds, and examining fome curious feeds, put in- 
 to his hand by Roubigne, he dropped a few on a fpot 
 called Julia's garden. Not long after he was gone 
 the flowers appeared: Julia would frequently fteal 
 unobferved to watch the growth of thofe flowers, 
 and when they began to droop, fhe watered them 
 with her tears." See Julia de Roubigne.
 
 I5O NOTES AND EXPLANATIONS. 
 
 NOTE P. 
 
 SONNET X. Line 4. 
 " And haggard Poverty prepares a tomb." 
 
 " Savillon had few friends, and he feemed not to 
 wifli them many, (fuch, however, as the world com- 
 monly call friends ) Beauvaris, who ranked among 
 the number of thofe few, was the brother of his foul, 
 and his latter days fawhim ftruggling with Poverty." 
 See "Julia de Roubigne. 
 
 NOTE Q^ 
 SONNET XIII. 
 
 MONTAUBAN meditating the Death of his Wife JULIA. 
 
 Montauban believing his wife to have difhonored 
 the marriage bed, meditates her murder : the cir- 
 cumftances which led him to fuppofe her guilty, are 
 fufficiently ftrong to difturb the quiet of a jealous 
 and haughty mind. Savillon's concealed picture is 
 difcovered wet with Julia's tears. She breathes his 
 name in her fleep, accompanied with deep fighs, 
 confents to a private meeting, &c. and Montauban 
 thence banifliing from his thoughts every idea of 
 her innocence, adminifters poifon.
 
 NOTES AND EXPLANATIONS. 151 
 
 NOTE R. 
 SONNET XIV. 
 
 Julia, in her laft letter to Maria, after having 
 imbibed the fatal potion, predicts her approaching 
 end : recalls over the paft fcenes of their early lives, 
 and bids a long farewell to her amiable and virtuous 
 friend. 
 
 NOTE S. 
 SAVILLON at the Tomb of JULIA. 
 
 We hear nothing further of Savilion, after having 
 taken his laft leave of Julia : but it is no great ftretch 
 of fancy for a Poet, efpecially when writing from ro- 
 mantic events (nor even fhould there really have 
 exifted a Savilion) to picture him at the tomb of his 
 departed lover : fituated as the tale relates him, it is 
 perfectly compatible with the feelings of nature, to 
 imagine on his receiving the tidings of Julia's un- 
 timely end, that the paft fcenes of their fateful lives, 
 would rufh with frefli vigour upon his tortured mind, 
 and that he would trace out the fpot where her re- 
 mains were depoflted, in a ftate of melancholy 
 diftraction.
 
 152 NOTES AND EXPLANATIONS. 
 
 NOTE T. 
 
 Tributary Lines on the Arrival of the MARQUIS 
 CORN VfALLisfrom INDIA. Line 1 3. 
 
 " When (fafe on board) the parting Swallow heav'd a 
 figh." 
 
 The Packet in which his Lordfhip came paffen- 
 ger to England. 
 
 NOTE V. 
 EPITAPH on a FARMER. 
 
 Some time elapfed, before the perfon on whom 
 this Epitaph was written, difcovered the author of 
 it, and when informed, that it was from the pen of 
 one, whom he had feen grow up from an infant, 
 the good old man became deprived of utterance, and 
 " fhone in tears," 
 
 NOTE U. 
 VERSES on a Church-yard^ at MOON-LIGHT. 
 
 Line 4, Stanza 7. 
 Here fall his honors, and here dies his name,"
 
 NOTES AND EXPLANATIONS. 153 
 
 Although his name may live on the monument 
 from felf vanity, or the pride of relatives, it graces 
 not, perhaps, the page of hiftory, and by his coun- 
 try is remembered no more. 
 
 NOTB W. 
 
 SOLAR ECLIPSE. Line 2, Stanza 2. 
 Fair Virtue's Enfign view'd the train." 
 
 An Horfe afted as Enfign in bearing the Colours 
 to the Camp. 
 
 NOTE X. 
 ADIEU TO COLLEGE. Line 34. 
 
 " Nor longer, now, the tutor, fage divine ! 
 
 " My bills will ftretch, or praife my London wine.** 
 
 Poets are allowed the privilege of fiction, and 
 fhould thefe lines ever meet the eye of the author's 
 learned and refpe&ed tutor, he hopes he will not 
 cenfure him for having made ufe of that liberty in its 
 full extent : but where is the philofopher fo -ftri&ly 
 confcientious, and fo dead to the bleffings of inde- 
 pendence, who, tranfplanted from a bed of thiftles, 
 and placed for a few moments in a garden of fmiling 
 rofes, that will not be tempted to fip their fragrance.
 
 154 NOTES AND EXPLANATIONS. 
 
 ere the rude wind and the fleeting feafon, diffipate 
 and deftroy their fweets. 
 
 NOTE Y. 
 SAME POEM. Line 37. 
 
 " The prying Proftor, too, the mean-earn'd fee, 
 ' No more'fliall force to prove his poverty." 
 
 There are certain fines exa&ed by the Pro&ors, 
 when they find the ftudents without bands, or any 
 other part of their academical appendages; by which 
 privilege, {hould they be inclined, they may reap a 
 plentiful harveft during their Pro&orfhip. 
 
 NOTE Z. 
 
 SAME POEM. Lineal. 
 " And thou, fam'd Frank, with cheeks of crimfon hue." 
 
 Frank Smith, the Mafter of a celebrated Coffee- 
 houfe at Cambridge, called the Union j and di- 
 ftinguifhed for his genuine humour and a red face.
 
 DIRECTIONS 
 
 FOR 
 
 PLACING THE PLATES. 
 
 Let each Plate (except the Frontifpiece) face the Poem it 
 represents, viz. 
 
 Plate I. (the Frontifpiece) to face The Title Page. 
 
 II. to face the Poem, entitled, Stanzas on hearing the 
 
 Screech-Owl. 
 
 III. to face Elegy written on the 
 
 Sea Coaft at Margate. 
 
 IV. to face Savillon at the Tomb 
 
 of Julia. 
 
 V. to face Stanzas on a Church-yard. 
 
 VI. to face The Fragment.
 
 ERRATA. 
 
 Page i Line 13 of Introdudion,/br mead, read meed 
 
 14 3 Stanza laR./w Quicks, read fliriek 
 
 36 13 for bluft'ring, read blufhing 
 
 47 % far magic, read dazzling 
 
 53 7 far eer read ere 
 
 < 57 3 Stanza IV. for hate, read hated 
 
 62 5 Stanza III. for loaths, ran/ loathes 
 
 71 3 for beech, read beach 
 
 73 IB for e'er, rw</ ere 
 
 85 3 Stanza 1 1 1. far prefs, rcadCaxKp 
 
 il>. a for drafts, read draughts 
 
 94 13 /or fwallow, r/ Swallow. 

 
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