« السابقةمتابعة »
ADDRESSED TO A YOUNG LADY.
SWEET stream, that winds through yonder glade,
SONG ON PEACE.
AIR-" My fond shepherds of late," &c.
No longer I follow a sound;
I have sought thee in splendour and dress,
The voice of true Wisdom inspires; "Tis sufficient, if Peace be the scope
And the summit of all our desires.
That seeks it in meekness and love:
AIR- -" The Lass of Patie's Mill."
WHEN all within is peace,
How nature seems to smile! Delights that never cease,
The livelong day beguile. From morn to dewy eve,
With open hand she showers Fresh blessings to deceive
And sooth the silent hours.
It is content of heart
Gives nature power to please;
Seem bright as smiling May,
The vast majestic globe,
So beauteously array'd In nature's various robe,
With wondrous skill display'd, Is to a mourner's heart
A dreary wild at best; It flutters to depart,
And longs to be at rest.
LOSS OF THE ROYAL GEORGE.
Written when the News arrived,
To the March in Scipio.
TOLL for the brave!
The brave that are no more! All sunk beneath the wave,
Fast by their native shore! Eight hundred of the brave, Whose courage well was tried, Had made the vessel heel,
And laid her on her side.
A land breeze shook the shrouds,
Brave Kempenfelt is gone;
No tempest gave the shock;
She ran upon no rock.
His sword was in its sheath;
With twice four hundred men,
Weigh the vessel up,
Once dreaded by our foes!
Her timbers yet are sound,
But Kempenfelt is gone,
His victories are o'er;
SONNET TO WM. WILBERFORCE, ESQ.
THY Country, Wilberforce, with just disdain, Hears thee by cruel men and impious call'd Fanatic, for thy zeal to loose the' enthrall'd From exile, public sale, and slavery's chain.
Friend of the poor, the wrong'd, the fetter-gall'd, Fear not lest labour such as thine be vain.
Thou hast achieved a part; hast gain'd the ear Of Britain's senate to thy glorious cause; Hope smiles, joy springs, and though cold caution pause
And weave delay, the better hour is near That shall remunerate thy toils severe By peace for Afric, fenced with British laws.
Enjoy what thou hast won, esteem and love From all the Just on earth and all the Bless'd above.
SONNET TO HENRY COWPER, ESQ.
ON HIS EMPHATICAL AND INTERESTING DELIVERY OF THE DEFENCE OF WARREN HASTINGS, ESQ. IN THE HOUSE of LORDS.
COWPER, whose silver voice, task'd sometimes Legends prolix delivers in the ears [hard, (Attentive when thou read'st) of England's
Let verse at length yield thee thy just reward.
Thou art not voice alone, but hast beside
Both heart and head: and couldst with music
Of attic phrase and senatorial tone, [sweet Like thy renown'd forefathers, far and wide Thy fame diffuse, praised not for utterance meet Of others' speech, but magic of thy own.
SONNET TO JOHN JOHNSON.
ON HIS PRESENTING ME WITH AN ANTIQUE BUST OF HOMER.
KINSMAN beloved, and as a son, by me!