Fell certain on the guilty head, none else;

If they that make the cause might taste the effect, And drink themselves the bitter cup they mix,

Then might the Bard (tho' child of Peace) delight
To twine fresh wreaths around the Conqueror's brow,
Or haply strike his high-toned harp to swell

The trumpet's martial sound, and bid them on,
Whom Justice arms for vengeance: but alas!
That undistinguishing and deathful storm
Beats heaviest on the exposed innocent;
And they that stir its fury, while it raves,
Stand at safe distance; send their mandate forth
Unto the mortal ministers that wait

To do their bidding;-Ah, who then regards
The widow's tears, the friendless orphan's cry,
And famine, and the ghastly train of woes
That follow at the dogged heels of War?
They in the pomp and pride of victory.
Rejoicing, o'er the desolated earth,

As at an altar wet with human blood,
And flaming with the fire of cities burnt,
Sing their mad hymns of triumph, hymns to God
O'er the destruction of his gracious works,

Hymns to the Father o'er his slaughter'd sons.

H

Detested be their sword, abhorr'd their name,
And scorn'd the tongues that praise them! Happier, Thou,
Of peace and science Friend, hast held thy course
Blameless and pure, and such is thy renown.

And let that secret voice within thy breast
Approve thee, then shall those high sounds of praise
Which thou hast heard, be as sweet harmony,

Beyond this concave to the starry sphere

Ascending, where the Spirits of the blest

Hear it well pleas'd. For Fame can enter Heaven
If Truth and Virtue lead her; else forbid,
She rises not above this earthy spot;
And then her voice, transient and valueless,
Speaks only to the herd. With other praise,
And worthier duty may she tend on Thee;
Follow Thee still with honour, such as Time
Shall never violate, and with just applause,
Such as the Wise and Good might love to share.

To a COLLEGE CAT.

Written soon after the Installation at Oxford, 1793.

Toll on, toll on, old Bell! I'll neither pray
Nor sleep away the hour. The fire burns bright,
And, bless the maker of this great-arm'd chair,
This is the throne of comfort! I will sit
And study most devoutly: not my Euclid,
For God forbid that I should discompose
That spider's excellent geometry!

I'll study thee Puss: not to make a picture
I hate your canvass cats and dogs and fools,
Themes that pollute the pencil! let me see
The Patriot's actions start again to life
And I will bless the artist who awakes

The throb of emulation. Thou shalt give
A better lesson Puss!-come look at me!
thine emerald eyes! aye, purr away,
For I am praising thee I tell thee Puss,

Lift

up

And Cats as well as Kings love flattery.
For three whole days I heard an old Fur Gown
Beprais'd, that made a Duke a Chancellor :
Trust me, tho' I can sing most pleasantly
Upon thy well-streak'd coat, to that said Fur
I was not guilty of a single rhyme !

'Twas an old turn-coat Fur, that would sit easy
And wrap round any man, so it were tied

With a blue ribband.

What a magic lies

In beauty thou on this forbidden ground

Mayest range, and when the Fellow looks at thee Straight he forgets the statute. Swell thy tail And stretch thy claws, most Democratic beast,

The Statute that excludes Cats, Dogs, and all other singing birds, from the College precincts.

I like thine independance! treat thee well,
Thou art as playful as young Innocence;

But if we play the Governor, and break
The social compact, God has given thee claws,
And thou hast sense to use them. Oh! that man
Would copy this thy wisdom! spaniel fool
He crouches down and licks his tyrant's hand
And courts oppression. Wiser animal
I gaze on thee, familiar not enslaved,
And thinking how Affection's gentle hand
Leads by a hair the flarge-limb'd Elephant,
With mingled pity and contempt behold
His drivers goad the patient biped beast.

+Always encounter petulance with gentleness, and perverseness with kindness: a gentle hand will lead the Elephant itself by a hair.

From the Persian Rosary, by Eddin Sadi. Enfield's History of Philosophy,