St Original Péetry. 
That, halfa defert, afksin vain 
For-culture due ; 
Whilft cold inaétion chills thy vein, 
And rafts thy plough. 
Meanwhile thy youthful vigour flies, 
The florms of life unpitying rife, 
And wounded Superfti:ion tries 
To thwart thy way ; 
find loath’d Dependance ambufh’d lies, 
To feize her prey. 
Yet high above thy reptile foes 
Thy tow’ring foul uniconquer a rofe—— 
Love and the Mufe their charms difclofe—- 
The hags retire ; 
And thy expanded bofom glows 
With heav’nly fire. 
Go, Builder of a deathlefs name! 
Thy Country’s glory, and her fhame ? 
Go, and th’ immortal gueidon claim, 
To Genius due ; 
Whilft rolling centuries thy Gee 
Shall fill renew | 
a 
ANNABELLA. 
PT AMENTING o’er her orphan child, 
Young ANNABELLA ftood: 
Fier treffes loofe, her action wild, 
Her eyes a briny flood. — 
Behold thy father flain! fhe cry’d 
In frantic deep defpair : 
€urs’d War divore’d him from his bride, 
Each ftorm of Fate to dare. 
Ah ! why defert my faithful arms, 
To brave the congu’ring foe, 
Invade my breaft with dread alarms, 
Aad pierce this heart with woe : 
Were roaring drums, and trumpets fhrill, 
More grateful to thy ear 
‘Fhan notes o! love? that fweetly thiill, 
And huih to feit each fear! 
Could guiltlefs blood more thirft excite, 
Or riches biifs impart, 
Than ey’rv fond and pure delight 
That dignifies the heart ? 
Ob! curs’d, thrice curs’d, be Glory’s voice, 
That thunders war and raze ; 
"Fhat bids the foul of man re joite 
To fpare. nor iex nor age! 
And thou, fweet babe! once all my joy, 
But now my greateit woe ! 
Wilt thou the human race deftroy, 
And earth with blood o’erfow ? 
Oh! rather would this widow’d hand 
Cut fhort thy infant days, 
‘han thou fhould(t bid the fiend-like brand 
Of Wey and Difcord blaze ! 
Great God, receive my burfing foul! 
Releafe it from this breaft ! 
No Mortal can my grief controul, 
Cr huh my fhghs to-reft! 
Take up, my Song, take up a ee ftrain ; 
[en 
Thus rav’d the beauteous‘weeping fair, 
While Phrenzy feiz’d her brain : 
She dropp’d, the vi&tim of Defpair, 
Befide her Henry flain! 
-- 
TRANSLATION 
OF THE LATIN ODE -IN NO. Vi. -P. 49 
Ferreum er edis, Se. 

ND doft thou think my heart is hard? 
In folid brafs, oh ! were it bound, 
Then fhould I iss with light-regard, 
On Life’s thort joys, ali deeting found ! 
Then fhould no fond complaming maid, 
(The pangs of Atbfence doom’d to prove} 
My ever-faithful breait wpbraid . 
With all her woes of flighted ‘love! a 
How oft’ has wand’ring Luna’s beam, 
Slow-fiealing o’er the cloudlefs fky, 
Beheld bright Love’s delufive'dream 
Wanton BE fore my mental eye? . 
How oft’, the filent Heav’ns along, » 
What time in radiant pomp the fhone, 
To her I pour’d my plaintive fonz, 
And made my faithful pafhon known, 
Still, fill my wonted warmth remains, 
Camilla, full remains for thee ; 
Fancy thy long-Joft form retains, 
Thy forrowing looks methinks I fee! 
With deep reproach my foul invade, 
And, tho’ thy harfh words wound my €ary 
Ne’er fhail it grieve me, gentle Maid, ~ 
That Mem’ ry held thy beauties dear ! ! 
Leeds, Dec. 8, 1796. ft 
SE - 
LINES 
Addreffed, from London, to SARA end S.T.C. 
at Briftcl, in the Summer of 1796. 
WAS it fo hard a thing? I did but afk , 
A fleeting holiday, a httle week.  , 
What, if the jaded fteer, who, all day Jong, 
Had borne the heat and burthen of the plough, 
yultes ev ag g came, and her fweet cooling hour, 
Should feek to wancer in a neighbour copfe, 
W! here greener herbage wav’d, or clearer ftreams 
Invited him to flake his burning thinit ? 
The man were crabbed who fhould fay him nay ;- 
The man were churlifh who fhould drive him 
thence. 
A bleffing light upon your worthy heads, 
Ye hofpitable paw ! I may not come 
To catch, on Clifden’s heights, the fummmer gale; 
IT niay not conre to tafte the Avon wave ; 
Or, with mine eye intent on Redcliffe tow’rs, 
To mufe in tears cn that myfterious youth, 
Cruelly flighted, who, in evil hour, 
Shap’ d his advent’rous courfe to London walls ! 
Complaint, be gone! and, ominous thoughts, 
away ! 
Fer 
