STANZAS ON THE TAKING OF QUEBEC. AMIDST the clamour of exulting joys, O Wolfe, to thee a ftreaming flood of woe, Sighing we pay, and think e'en conqueft dear; Quebec in vain shall teach our breast to glow, Whilft thy fad fate extorts the heart-wrung tear. Alive the foe thy dreadful vigour fled, And faw thee fall with joy-pronouncing eyes: Yet they shall know thou conquereft, though dead! Since from thy tomb a thousand heroes rise. ON ON A BEAUTIFUL YOUTH, STRUCK BLIND BY LIGHTNING. SURE 'twas by Providence Rather in pity, than in hate, A SONNET. A SONNET. WEEPING, murmuring, complaining, Loft to every gay delight; Myra, too fincere for feigning, Fears th' approaching bridal night. Yet why impair thy bright perfection! |