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From all the futile cares of bugness free;
Not fond of life, but yet content to be:
Here mark the fleeting hours ; regret the past;
And seriously prepare, to meet the last.

So safe on shore the pension'd failor lies;
And all the malice of the storm defies :
With ease of body bleft, and peace of mind,
Pities the restless crew he left behind ;
Whilft, in his cell, he meditates alone
On his great voyage, to the world unknown.

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A love,

S o'er Asteria's fields I rove,
The blissful seat of


and , Ten thousand beauties round me rise, And mingle pleasure with surprize.

By nature bleft in every part,
Adorn'd with every grace


This paradise of blooming joys
Each raptur'd sense, at once, employs.

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But when I view the radiant queen,
Who form'd this fair enchanting scene;
Pardon ye grots! ye cryftal foods !..
Ye breathing flow'rs-1 ye shady woods !

Your coolaess now no more invites;
No more your murmuring stream delights ;
Your sweets decay, your verdure's flown;
My soul's intent on her alone.

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How long shall false fantastic Honour draw

The vengeful sword, with fury fell,

And ranc'rous Malice dark as hell,
In spight of Reason's rule, and Nature's eldest law?

Too many gallant youths have bled ;

Too much of Britilh blood been ihed
By Britons' swords, and that foul monster's laws:

Youths that might else have nobly dar'd ;

More glorious wounds and dangers far'd
For Britain's just defence, and virtue's injur'd cause:


So when the fierce Cadmean youth

Sprung from the dragon's venom'd tooth,
Each chief arose in shining armour dreft:

With rage inspir'd, the furious band

Soon found a ready foe at hand,
And plung 'd the pointed steel each in a brother's breast.

Has Britain then no other foes,

That thus her sons their lives expose
To private war, and feuds, and civil fray?

Does Spain insult her flag no more?

Does Lewis yet his thoughts give o'er
Of universal rule, and arbitrary fway?

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'Tis Britons' to support the law;

'Tis theirs ambitious kings to awe, And equal rights of empire to maintain.

For this our fathers, brave and stout,

At Agincourt and Creffy fought
And heap'd fam'd Blenheim'sfieldwith mountains ofthellain.

How will the Gallic monarch (mile,

To see the sons of Albion's ille
Their country's blood with ruthless weapons drain?

Themselves avenge the glorious day

When Marlb'rough swept whole hosts away,
And sent the frighted Danube purple to the main ?

O fay, O fay, in this inglorious ftrife

Thy arm had robb'd thy friend of life, What pangs, what anguish had thy basom proy'd?

How hadít thou curs'd the cruel deed,

That caus'd the gallant youth to bleed, Piered by thy guilty sword, and flain by him he lov'd ?

How did the fair Maria blame

Thy high-bred spirit's eager flame,
That courting danger flighted her soft love?

Far other wreaths for thee the twin'd;

Far other cares for thee design'd;
And for the laurel crown, the myrtle chaplet wove,

If not for her's, for Britain's sake,

Forbear thy precious life to ftake;
Nor taint thy honour with so fouļ a deed.

One day thy country may require

Thy gallant arm and martial fire: Then may'd thou bravely conquer, or as bravely bleed.


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HE busy cares of day are done ;

In yonder wefiern cloud the sun
Now fets, in other worlds to rise,

And glad with light the nether fies.
With ling'ring pace the parting day retires,
And flowly leaves the mountain cops, and gilded spires.

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Yon azure cloud, enrobd with white,
Still shoots a gleam of fainter light:
At length descends a browner shade;

At length the glim'ring objects fade:
'Till all submit to Night's impartial reign,
And undistinguish'd darknefs covers all the plain.

No more the ivy-crowned oak
Resounds beneath the wood-man's stroke.
Now Silence holds her folemn sway;

Mute is each bush, and ev'ry spray:
Nought but the sound of murm'ring rills is heard,
Or from the mould'ring tow'r, Night's folitary bird.

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