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Oh! breathe not, winds! Still be the water's motion!
Sleep, sleep, my bạrk! in silence on the main : So when to-morrow's light shall gild the ocean, Once more mine
shall see the coast of Spain. Vain is the wish! My last petition fcorning,
Fresh blows the gale, and high the billows swell: Far shall we be before the break of morning:
Oh! then, for ever, native Spain, farewell!
BY MR. COLLINS.
To Soft middle and rollYagerhinds shall bring
And rifle all the breathing sprin
To vex, with shrieks, this quiet grove;
And melting virgins own their love.
No goblins lead their nightly crew;'
And dress thy grave with pearly dew.
Shall kindly lend his little aid,
To deck the ground where thou art laid.
In tempefts, shake the sylvan cell,
The tender thought on thee shall dwell.
For thee the tear be duly shed;
And mourn'd till Pity's self be dead.
BY DR. DARWIN.
Tow flood ELIZA on the wood-crown'd height,
, Sought with bold eye, amid the bloody ftrife, Her dearer felf, the partner of her life; From hill to hill the rushing host pursu'd, And view'd his banner, or believ'd she view'd. Pleas'd with the distant roar, with quicker tread, Faft by his hand one lisping boy she led; And one fair girl, amid the loud alarm, Slept on her 'kerchief, cradled by her arm; While round her brows bright beams of honour dart, And love's warm eddies circle round her heart. -Near and more near th' intrepid beauty press’d, Saw, through the driving smoke, his dancing crest, Heard the exulting shout, They run! they run!” “ Great God!" she cry'd, “ he's safe! the battle's won!"
A ball now hisses through the airy tides, (Some fury wing?d it, and some demon guides !) Parts the fine locks, her graceful head that deck, Wounds her fair ear, and sinks into her neck; The red stream, issuing from her azure veins, Dyes her white veil, her iv'ry bosom stains.--- Ah me !" she cry'd, and, finking on the ground, Kiss'd her dear babes, regardless of the wound, “ Oh! cease not yet to beat, thou vital urn! “ Wait gushing life, oh! wait my love's return! “ Hoarfe barks the wolf, the vulture screams from far ! “ The angel, Pity, shuns the walks of war ! “Oh! spare, ye war-hounds, spare their tender age ! “ On me, on me,” she cry'd, " exhaust your rage! Then, with weak arms, her weeping babes caress'd, And, fighing, hid them in her blood-stain'd vest.
From tent to tent th' impatient warrior flies, Fear in his heart, and frenzy in his eyes; Eliza's name along the camp he calls, Eliza echoes through the canvas walls;. Quick through the murm'ring gloom his footsteps tread, O'er groaning heaps, the dying and the dead,
Vault o'er the plain, and in the tangled wood,
-Soon hears his lift'ning fon the welcome sounds,
Why do you weep?_mama will soon awake.” -“She'll wake no more !" the hopeless mourner cry'd, Upturn'd his eyes, and clasp'd his hands, and sigh’d; Stretch'd on the ground awhile entranc'd he lay, And press’d warm kisses on the lifeless clay; And then upsprung with wild convulsive fart, And all the father kindled in his heart: “ Oh, Heav'ns !” he cry'd, “ my first rash vow forgive ! “ These bind to earth, for these I pray to live !" Round his chill babes he wrapt his crimson veft, And clasp'd them sobbing to his aching breaft.
SL A VERY.
BY THE SAME.
CARK! heard ye not that piercing cry,
E’en now, e'en now, on yonder western shores,
YE BANDS OF SENATORS! whose fuffrage sways Britannia's realms, whom either Ind obeys ; Who right the injur'd, and reward the brave, Stretch your strong arm, for
ye have pow'r to save! Thron’d in the vaulted heart, his dread resorty Inexorable CONSCIENCE holds his court;
With ftill small voice the plots of Guilt alarms,
THE diamond's and the ruby's rays
Shine with a milder, finer flame,
Than beauty's self, if lost to fame.
Transcends the diamond's brightest beams;
More precious than the ruby seems.
May strike the fight with quick surprize ;
Can ftill engage the good and wise.
Will ought avail in grief or pain!
Delight that ever shall remain.
'Tis not her jewels, but her mind;
It is her virtue charms mankind!
THAT filver founds, melodious, meet my ear,
Dropping, so sweetly fad, the pitying tear,
O'er the soft sorrows of a recent tale. Ah me! no fancy'd woes I hold to view;
The woe-fraught scene is prattled round the coast; Too true, alas ! and pity 'tis, 'tis true
William and Mary were together loft!
The simple facts too copious for my line :
Thou wilt not grudge to mingle tears with mine. Oh! it will cost me many a pang,
ween, To trace their infant Joves, each childish joy, When little Mary gambolid o'er the green
With her lov'd William, then a fair-hair’d boy. Fresh, like the rosy morn, his cherub face,
And, like the berry dark, his laughing eyes ; And Mary's too beam'd sweet with kindred grace,
The soft mild blue that paints the azure skies. Oft hand in hand they rambled o'er the plain,
And filld their little laps with store of flow’rs ; And oft pursu'd the gilded fly in vain
These were the pastimes of their earliest hours. But war's shrill clarion rous’d the youth to arms
To gain for Mary wealth and fair renown: Sighing he tore him from her blooming charms,
And left her weeping, joyless, and forlorn. Full oft retiring from the noisy throng,
To hide from vulgar eyes the struggling tear, He breath'd his constant vows in artless song,
And pour’d the trembling numbers on her ear. So the lone bird, within the
retir’d, Trills her sweet notes, the thorn within her breast :