178 POETRY. Oft. 12. 



O blend tliefe fafcinating joys 



With thofe of higher fame ; 

 Let Gratitude's melodious voice 



Call on its Maker's name.' 

 Religion will her charms difplay, 



And fmiles will meet the call ;' 

 Terror will yield to hope's bright ray. 



Which "ilds " the End of All." masoa. 



A Poem, /aid to be written by Major Mordaunt 

 during the loft German War. 



Never before Puhlified. 



Go, lovely boy* ! to yonder tow'r. 



The fane of Janus, ruthlefs King ! 

 And Ihut, O ! fhut the brazen door. 



And here the keys in triumph bring. 



Full many a tender heart hath bled, 



Its joys in Belgians foil entomb'd : 

 Which thou to Hymen's fmiling bed, 



And length of fweetefl hours had doom'd. 



Oh glory ! you to ruin owe 



The faireft plume the hero wears : 

 Raife the bright helmet from his brow ; 



You'll mock beneath the manly tears. 



Who does not burn to place the crown 



Of conquefl: on his Albion's head ? 

 Who weeps not at her p'.iintive moan. 



To give her haplefs orphans bread? 



Forgive, ye brave, the generous fault, ^ 



If thus my virtue fails; alone 

 My Delia dole my earliefl thought. 



And fram'd its feelings by her own. 



'■ Cupid. 



