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"How often shall he hear with fresh delight "Their earnest tales, or watch their rifing paffions "With timerous attention; then fhall tell "Of justice, fortitude, and public weal, "And oft the while each rigid precept smooth "With winning tokens of parental love!"

Thus my o'erweening heart the secret stores Of Britain's hope explor'd, while my ftrain'd fight Purfued her fading hills, till wrapt in mist They gently funk behind the swelling tide. Nor flept those thoughts, whene'er in other climes I mark'd the cruel wafte of foul oppreffion, Saw nobleft fpirits, and goodlieft faculties, To vaffalage and loathfome fervice bound. Then confcious preference rofe; then northward turn'd

My eye, to gratulate my natal foil.

How have I chid with froward eagerness

Each veering blaft, that from my hand witheld
The well-known characters of some lov'd friend,
Tho' diftant not unmindful? Still I learn'd
Delighted, what each patriot plan devis'd
Of arts, or glory, or diffufive commerce.
Nor wanted its endearment every tale
Of lightest import. But oh! heavy change,
What notices come now? Diftracted fcenes
Of helpless forrow, folemn fad accounts;
How fair AUGUSTA watch'd the weary night

Tending the bed of anguifh; how great GEORGE
Wept with his infant progeny around;

How heav'd the orphan's and the widow's figh,
That follow'd FREDERIC to his filent tomb.

For well was FREDERIC lov'd, and well deferv'd : His voice was ever fweet, and on his fteps Attended ever the alluring grace

Of gentle lowlinefs and focial zeal.

Him fhall remember oft the labour'd hind,
Relating to his mates each cafual act
Of courteous bounty. Him th' artificer,
Plying the varied woof in fullen fadness,
Tho' wont to carol many a ditty sweet.
Soon too the mariner, who many moons
Has counted, beating ftill the foamy furge,
And treads at laft the wifh'd-for beach, fhall stand
Appall'd at the fad tale, and foon shall steal
Down his rough cheek th' involuntary tear.
Be this our folace yet, all is not dead;
The bright memorial lives: from his example
Shall Hymen trim his torch, domestic praise
Be countenanc'd, and virtue fairer fhew.
In age fucceeding when another GEORGE,
To ratify fome weighty ordinance

Of Britain's peers conven'd, shall pass befide
Thofe hallow'd fpires, whofe gloomy vaults enclofe,
Shrouded in fleep, pale rows of fcepter'd kings,

Oft to his fenfe the sweet paternal voice

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And long-remember'd features fhall return;
Then shall his generous breast be new inflam'd
To acts of highest worth and honest fame.

These plaintive strains, from ALBION far away, I lonely meditate at even-tide;

Nor skill'd nor ftudious of the raptur'd lay;
But ftill rememb'ring oft the magic founds,
Well-measur'd to the chime of Dorian lute,
Or paft'ral ftop, which erft I lov'd to hear
On ISIS' broider'd mead, where dips by fits
The stooping ofier in her hafty stream.

Hail WOLSEY's fpacious dome! hail, ever-fam'd
For faithful nurture, and truth's facred lore,
Much honour'd parent! You my duteous zeal
Accept, if haply in thy laureat wreath

You deign to interweave this humble song.

ON THE SAME.

BY MR. JAMES CLITHEROW OF ALL SOULS COLL.

I.

WAS on the evening of that gloomy day,

"TWAS

When FREDERIC, ever lov'd, and ever mourn'd, (Such heav'n's high will, and who shall disobey?) To earth's cold womb in holy pomp return'd:

II.

With fullen founds the death-denouncing bell
Proclaim'd aloud the dismal tale of woe,
The pealing organ join'd the folemn knell,
In mournful notes, majestically flow.

III.

The full-voic'd choir, in ftoles of pureft white,
With frequent pause, the foul-felt anthem raise;
While o'er the walls, in darkest sable dight,
A thousand tapers pour'd their holy blaze.
IV.

In high devotion rapt, the mitred fage,
With energy fublime, the rites began;
While tears from ev'ry sex, and ev'ry age,
Bewail'd the prince, the father, and the man.

V.

"Who, when our fov'reign liege to fate shall yield, "Shall prop, like him, Britannia's falling state? "Who now the vengeful fword of justice wield, "Or ope, like him, fweet Mercy's golden gate? VI.

"Who shall to Arts their priftine honour bring, "Rear from the dust fair Learning's laurell'd head, "Or bid rich Commerce plume her daring wing? "Arts, Learning, Commerce are in FREDERIC dead.

VII.

"Who now fhall tend, with fond paternal care, "The future guardians of our faith and laws? "Who teach their breasts with patriot worth to dare, "And die, with ardour, in Britannia's cause ?

VIII.

"And who, ah! who, with foft endearing lore, "Shall footh, like him, the royal mourner's breast? "Her lord, her life, her FREDERIC is no more."Deep groans and bitter wailings fpeak the rest.

IX.

Then, when at length the awful fcene was clos'd,
And duft to duft in holy hope confign'd;

All to their filent homes their steps difpos'd,

To feed on folitary woe the mind;

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