صور الصفحة
النشر الإلكتروني


From many a shady foreft's length’ning tract,
From many a dark-descending cataract,
Succeeding tribes shall come, and o'er the place
Where sleeps the gen’ral friend of human race,
Instruct their children what a debt they owe;
Speak of the man who trod the paths of woe;
Then bid them to their native woods depart,
With new-born virtue aching at their heart.

When o'er the founding Euxine's stormy tides,
In hostile pomp, the Turks proud navy rides;
If onward to those shores they haply steer
Where, Howard! thy cold dust reposes near ;
Whilft o'er the wave the filken pennants stream,
And, seen far off, the golden crescents gleam,
Amid the pomp of war, the swelling breast
Shall feel á ftill unwonted awe impress’d,
And the relenting Pagan turn aside
To think-on yonder Thore the Christian dy'd !

But thou, O Briton, doom'd perhaps to roam
An exile many a year and far from home,
If ever fortune thy lone footsteps leads
To the wild Niepér’s banks, and whispring reeds,
O’er Howard's Grave thou shalt impaffion'd bend,
As if to hold fad comverfe with a friend.
Whate'er thy fate upon this various scene,
Where'er thy weary' pilgrimage has been,
There shalt thou pause; and, shutting from thy heart
Some vain regrets that oft unbidden start,
Think upon him to ev'ry lot resign’d,
Who wept, who toild, who perifh’d for mankind.,





FT has it been my lot to mark.

A proud, conceited, talking spark,
With eyes, that hardly servd at most
To guard their mafier 'gainst a poit';

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Yet round the world the blade has been,
To see whatever could be seen. 1959
Returning from his finish'd

tour, 44
Grown ten times perter than before ;
Whatever word you chance to drop,
The travelPd fool your mouth will stop,
“ Sir, if my judgment you'll allow
“ I've seen—and sure I'ought to know".
So begs you'd pay a due submission,
And acquiesce in his decision.

Two travellers of such a cast, As o'er Arabia's wilds they pass’d, And on their way, in friendly chaty Now talk'd of this, and then of that, Discours'd awhile, ’mongst other matter, Of the Camelion's form and nature. “ A stranger animal,” cries one, « Sure never liv'd beneath the sun: A dizard's body, lean and long, “ A filh's head, a serpent's tongue. “ Its tooth with triple claw disjoin'd; “ And what a length of tail behind! “ How slow its pace! and then its hue 6 Who ever saw so fine a blue ?"

“ Hold there,” the other quick replies,
“ 'Tis green,-I saw it with these eyes,
“ As late with open mouth it lay,
" And warm'd it in the sunny ray ;
“ Stretch'd at its ease the beast I'view'd,
" And saw it eat the air for food.”

" I've seen it, Sir, as well as you,
" And must again affirm it blue.
“ At leisure I the beast survey’d,
Extended in the cooling shade.”

'Tis green, 'tis green, Sir, I assure ye?”—
“ Green ! cries the other, in a fury-
" Why, Sir, d'ye think I've lost my eyes

၃။ “ 'Twere no great lofs," the friend replies, “ For, if they always ferve you thus, " You'll find''em of but little use."

So high at last the conteft rose,
From words they almost came to blows:



When luckily came by a third-
To him the question they referr'd ; ' ;
And begg'd he'd tell them, if he knew,
Whether the thing was green or blue.

“ Sirs,” cries the umpire, "cease your pother,
« The creature's neither one nor t' other.
“ I caught the animal last night,
“ And view'd it o'er by candle-light:
“ I mark'd it welltwas black as jet
“ You stare—but, Sirs, I've got it yet,
“ And can produce it.". Pray, Sir, do;
“ I'll lay my life. the thing is blue.”
" And I'll be sworn that, when you've seen
The reptile, you'll pronounce him green.”

“ Well then, at once to ease the doubt,"
Replies the man, “ I'll turn him out;
“ And, when before your eyes I've fet him,
“ If

you do'nt find him black, I'll eat him."
He said; then, full before their light,
Produc'd the beast, and lo'twas white.
Both star'd, the man look'd wondrous wise

My children,” the Camelion cries,
(Then first the creature found a tongue,)
às You all are right, and all are wrong:
“ When next you talk of what you view,
“. Think others see, as well as you;
“ Nor wonder if you find that none
“ Prefers your eye-light to his own."



HOU lone companion of the spectred night,

I wake amid thy friendly-watchful light,
To steal a precious hour from lifeless sleep
Hark, the wild uproar of the winds! and hark,
Hell's genius roams the regions of the dark,

And swells the thund'ring horrors of the deep.

From cloud to cloud the pale moon hurrying flies ;
Now blacken'd, and now flashing through her skies:
But all is silence here-beneath thy beam.

I own I labour for the voice of praise
For who would link in dull oblivion's stream?

Who would not live in songs of distant days ?
Thus while I, wond'ring, pause o'er Shakespeare's page,
I mark, in visions of delight, the sage,

High o'er the wrecks of man who stands sublime;
A column in the melancholy waste,
(Its cities humbled, and its glories paft,)

Majestic ʼmid the solitude of time.
Yet now to sadness let me yield the hour
Yes, let the tears of purest friendship show'r.
I view, alas! what ne'er should die-
A form that wakes my deepest sigh;

A form that feels of death the leaden sleep
Descending to the realms of shade,
I view a pale-eyed panting maid;

I see the Virtues o'er their fav’rite weep.
Ah! could the Muse's simple pray's

Command the envy'd trump of fame,
Oblivion should Eliza fpare :

A world should echo with her name.
Art thou departing too, my trembling friend ?
Ah! draws thy little lustre to its end?

Yes, on thy frame fate too shall fix her seal
O let me, pensive, watch thy pale decay ;
How fast that frame, so tender, wears away!

How fast thy life the restless minutes feal! How slender now, alas! thy thread of fire! Ah! falling, falling, ready to expire!

In vain thy strugglesall will soon be o'er. At life thou snatchest with an eager leap: Now round I see thy flame so feeble creep;

Faint, less’ning, quiv'ring, glimm'ring—now no more. Thus shall the suns of science fink away,

And thus of beauty fade the faiscst flow'r For where's the Giant who to Time shall say,

“ Deltructive tyrant! I arreft thy pow'r?"



HE chilling gale that nips the rose,

: The shadowy vapours fail away, Upon the silv'ry floods of day ; Health breathes on ev'ry face I fee, But, ah! she breathes no more on me!. The woodbine wafts in odours meek To kiss the rose's glowing cheek; Pale twilight sheds her vagrant show'rs To wake Aurora's infant flow'rs : May smiles on ev'ry face I see, But, ah! she smiles no more on me! Perchance, when youth's delicious bloom Shall fade umheeded in the tomb, Fate may

direct a daughter's eye To where my mould'ring reliques lie; And, touch'd by sacred sympathy, That eye may drop a tear for me! Betray'd by love; of hope bereft; No gentle gleam of comfort left; Bow'd by the hand of sorrow low; No pitying friend to weep my woe; Save her who, spar'd by heav'n's decree, Shall live to figh, and think on me! Oh! I would wander where no ray Breaks through ihe gloom of doubtful day; There would I court the wintry hour, The lingʻring dawn, the midnight show'r ; For cold and comfortless shall be Each future scene-ordain'd for me !

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