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And then no clown beneath the sky
Was e'er more ungallant than I;
For
you

alone I now think fit
To turn a poet and a wit-
For you whose charms, I know not how,
Have power to smooth iny

wrinkled brow,
And make me, though by nature stupid,
As brilk, and as alert, as Cupid.
These obligations to repay,
Whene'er your happy nuptial day
Shall with the circling years return,
For you my torch shall brighter burn
Than when

you
first

my power ador'd,
Ner will I call myself your lord,
But am (as witness this my

hand)
Your humble servant at command.

HYMEN.

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Dear child let Hymen not beguile
You, who are such a judge of style,
To think that he these verses made,
Without an abler penman's aid ;
Observe them well, you'll plainly see,
That

every line was writ by me.

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ON READING

MISS CAR T E R's POEMS

IN MANUSCRIPT.

SUCH

UCH were the notes that struck the wondering ear

Of filent Night, when, on the verdant banks
Of Siloë's hallow'd brook, celestial harps,
According to seraphic voices, fung
Glory to God on high, and on the earth
Peace and good-will to men! Resume the lyre,
Chauntress divine, and every Briton call
Its melody to hear-so shall thy strains,
More powerful than the song of Orpheus, tame
The lavage heart of brutal Vice, and bend
At pure Religion's shrine the stubborn knees
Of bold Impiety.-Greece shall no more
Of Lesbian Sappho boast, whose wanton Muse,
Like a false Syren, while the charm’d, seduc'd
To guilt and ruin. For the sacred head
Of Britain's poetess, the Virtues twine
A nobler wreath, by them from Eden's grove
Unfading gather'd, and direct the hand
Of - to fix it on her brows,

MOUNT

MOUNT EDGECUMBE.

THE Gods, on thrones celestial seated,

By Jove with bowls of nectar heated, All on Mount Edgecumbe turn'd their eyes ;

That place is mine," great Neptune cries : “Behold! how proud o'er all the main « Those stately turrets seem to reign! “ No views fo grand on earth you see ! “ The master too belongs to me : " I grant him my

domain to share, “ I bid his hand my trident bear.”

“ The sea is yours, but mine the land," Pallas replies ; “ by me were plann'd “ Those towers, that hospital, those docks, " That fort, which crowns those island rocks : “ The lady too is of my choir, “ I taught her hand to touch the lyre ; “ With every charm her mind I grac’d, "I

gave her prudence, knowledge, taste.” “ Hold, madam," interrupted Venus, “ The lady must be shar'd between us : " And surely mine is yonder grove, “ So fine, so dark, so fit for love ; “ Trees, such as in th’ Idalian glade, " Or Cyprian lawn, my palace shade."

Then Oreads, Dryads, Naiads, came ; Each Nymph alledg'd her lawful claim..

G 3

But

But Jove, to finish the debate,
Thus spoke, and what he speaks is fate :

Nor god nor goddess, great or small,
“ That dwelling his or hers may
“ I made Mount Edgecumbe for

you

all."

call;

}

IN

VI Τ. Α Τ Ι Ο Ν.

TO THE DowAGER DUCHESS D'AIGUILLON,

her

To France and England Friendship bring,
Come, Aiguillon, and here receive
That homage we delight to give
To foreign talents, foreign charms,
To worth which Envy's self disarms
Of jealous hatred : Come, and love
That nation wliich you now approve.
So fhall by France amends be made
(If luch a debt can e'er be paid)
For having with feducing art
From Britain ftol'n her Hervey's lieart.

TO COLONEL DRUM GOLD.

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DRT
RUMGOLD, whose ancestors from Albion's

Thore
Their conquering standards to Hibernia bore,
Though now thy valour, to thy country loit,
Shines in the foremost ranks of Gallia's hoít,

Think not that France shall borrow all thy fame-
From British fires deriv’d thy genius.came :
Its force, its energy, to these it ow'd,
But the fair polis Gallia's clime bestow'd :
The Graces there each ruder thought refin'd,
And liveliest wit with soundest sense combin'd,
They taught in sportive Fancy's gay attire
To dress the gravest of th' Aonian choir,
And
gave

to fober Wifioin's wrinkled cheek
The smile that dwells in Hebe’s dimple feek.
Pay to each realm the debt that each may ask :
Be thine, and thine alone, the pleasing task,
In purest elegance of Gallic phrase
To cloathe the spirit of the British lays.
Thus

every flower which every Muse's hand-
Has rais:d profuse in Britain's favourite land,
By thee transplanted to the banks of Seine,
Its sweetest native odours shall retain.
And when thy noble friend, with olive crown'd,
In Concord's golden chain has firmly bound
The rival nations, thou for both fhalt raise
The grateful fong to his imınortal praise.
Albion shall think the licars "her. Prior sing ;
And France, that Boileau Itrikes the tuneful string,
Then shalt thou tell what various talents join’d,
Adorn, embellish, and exalt his mind;
Learning and wit, with sweet politeness gracd;,
Wisdom by guile or cunning undebas'd ;.
By pride unsullied, genuine dignity;
A nobler and sublime fimplicity.

Such

G 4o

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