154 



Original trnpublished Poclrij. 



[Sept. I, 



And fees thofe cliamis a bloated mafs be- 

 come, 

 Oreirly laid within the filMit tomb.— 

 Ah, happit'i- t'lUc ! that kindly Ihields tlie 



Fair, 

 And dooms no faithful lover to defpair ! 

 , 'I'lie pciifive Mollier, bending o'er l' e 



bier, 

 Heav'd the deep figli, and ihed the bitltr 



fear, 

 With pious hands refign'd to kindred rartli 

 All that could give niateruul traulport 



birth. — 

 " Lie there, fwect faded bud of Beauty's 



blcom ! 

 Wrapt in the peaceful cradle of the tomb. 

 Till the Great Parent kindly fliall diffilay 

 'ihe ftreams that wafli Corruption's llains 



away ;" 

 Too oft, 3la5 ! the weeping mourner cried, 

 As o'er her babe flie hung htr head, and 



died.— 

 A brighter doom Affeftion's child (Tiall blefs, 

 A«d tears of rapture pro»e a parent's liap- 



pinefs. 



A thoiifand ills on man's uncertain ftafe 



With tVII an<l fatal uiTn, comuiifiioii'd, wait ; 



TInnijrk'd they hover, and unfcen deftroy, 



Inlidious bands ! the iurm of Hope and. 



Joy ; 

 But thief lie triumphs, purpled with liis 



crimes, 

 Voriola, the fconrge of modern times~— 

 Coni()affiou trembled as his march began, 

 And wept, 'twas all flic could, tor fuif 'ring 



man. 

 — Tfe conies, Variola, in (peckled pride, 

 Deat|i and Contagion ridnig at his fide, 

 While Beauty, witli'ring, fees her blooms 



decay. 

 To pining grief, or pale difcafe, a )irey.— 

 T he air is fate— inffttion breathes around— 

 And Death's fell agcut gives the fubtle 



wound. 

 " O, flii«ld us, Ihicid us, Mercy ! or we 



die — 

 O, ftiteld us, Afercy," is a Nation's cry- 

 Where is the arm that, dauntlefs, can cm- 

 brace 

 With feelings fond, and fliicld the human 



race .' 

 — Tos to him who bids the plague be ftaid. 

 And ftands between the living and the 



' dead. — 

 Paughters of Albion ! twine the wreath of 



fame, 

 And with the votive gitlt infttjbe your Jf.n- 



ni.r's name. 

 Ye gcn'rous few ) who on the labour 



fmile, 

 And ftiare alike the glory and tlie toil. 

 Proceed— the fuiii of furrow to alluagc—- 

 Proceed — nor fear Detradtion's venal rage. 

 The j;ratefiil plant you rear, if temped 



blown. 

 Shall fiud a friendlj^ fliade beneatU the 



TililUNC j 



VVhile Nations, grateful for their happinefs. 

 To lateft times with one accord fliall blefs 

 'Ihe gcn'rous Friends in focial league coiiv- 



bin'd, 

 And blefs the Royal I'rcaft that feels for all 



tuuiikind. 



TO MISS OWENSON, 



ON READING " THE WILD IRISH CfHL." 



"Y^HILST you vrith genius and with patriot 



tire 

 The love of Erin in our hearts infpire— 

 Cuiiibine trsditioii with liiftoric lore. 

 To prove her glorious deeds and virorth of 



yore. 

 Our times fliall hail j'ou champion of her 



caufe. 

 And future ages fanftion ourapplaufe. 

 1 hen let a bard (tho' Fanrv's powers decay) 

 1 his friendly tribute to your merit pay : 

 " For tho' grown old, to court the Mufe 



unfit, 

 " Talents like your's I love and value yet" 



" St. Clair" firft deckt you with a laurel 

 crown, 

 " The Novice " next beftow'd more bright 



renown ; 

 '' The Irifli liirl" a triple wrc«lh lliall give. 

 And, like our fliamrock, ever-blooming 



live! 

 A nation's gratitude fhall twine the band 

 To grace your temples, and your fame e.\- 



pand ! 

 While we with fynipathizing fouls bewail 

 The Prince of liinruorb's patiietic tale. 



Thus while you refcne Erin's ancient race 

 From prejudice, contempt, and falfe dif» 



grace, 

 O may the elfj^pring of her prefent days 

 Afpire to tmiilate the worth you prail'e. 

 While Education, niiTs'd by Freedom's fmilc. 

 Spread Arts and Science thro' this fav'rite 



Ille, 

 And may tlie genial fcene your fancy paint!? 

 Dcfcend from lleav'n to blefs the Land of 



Saints ! 



And as in rapture o'er your Harp we 

 • dwell. 

 Which you, like fair Glorvina, tune fo well! 

 And hear a voice like hcr's that fwcetly lings. 

 Warbling refponfive fo the minftrcl brings— 

 And whiift we trace in this accoiuplifli'd maid 

 The tafte and fcience former times dif- 



play'd. 

 Her filial love,, her virtues fo correct, 

 Born to feciire eftecm and foud ref^jctV, 

 We can ao longer doubt the picture true. 

 For lure Glorvina lives reviv'd in you \ 

 And to complete the mural ftoiy told. 

 May you another JMortiiner behold ! 



publin. J. Atrinsox. 



?ROq£EDJN(?S 



