1802.] 
Bleft with thy charms, the wearied hind 
reclines 
In envied peace beneath his vine-clad cot, 
‘Yho” poor he fighs not for the great man’s 
jot, 
Nor difcontented at his own repines. — 
Deign then to vifit my embower’d cell, 
And fhare with me, fair maid, my humble 
board, 
- With plenty crown’d, with fimpie viands 
{tor’d, 
Beneath my ftraw-built roof an inmate dwell. 
Oh grant fweet nymph, thy vot’ry’s fond 
requeft, 
Oh fhare his frugal board and make him 
bleft, 
April 23tb. O. 
Sains A Nad 
SONNET. 
THE ASSIGNATION. 
HARK! twas the bell’s fhrill found that 
ftruck my ear! : 
The hour is come, that brings Her to my 
arms, 
Array’d in all fair nature’s lovelieft charms, 
Sweet as the flow’rs that grace the vernal 
year. 
Oft has this {pot been witnefs.to my blifs; 
Here oft at eve her trembling hand I’ve 
prefs’d, 
While fondly leaning on my panting breaft 
She breath’d her vow, and feal’d it with a 
: kifs. 
Whilft to my ear her love fhe deigns t*impart, 
The breeze or ruftling leaf creates alarms, 
She ftarts and trembles in my circling 
arms, 
And ftrains her beauties clofer to my breaft. 
She comes: and to her ardent lover 
flies, 
Grace in her ftepselove fparkling in her 
Jleyes.. ; 
QO. 
April 23d. 
‘ “ to a ees 
THE HOUR OF PEACE. 
OME have blef the hour that gave 
Fortune’s queen to be their flavey 
Happy when her fay’ring hand 
Scattered wealth at their command: 
Others figh for fplendid fate, 
Such as marks the proud and great, 
Thoughtlefs feeking the bright fair - 
In the gloomy cells of cares 
Others o’er the wide world roam, 
‘Tempett-fhattered, far from home, 
Toil midft ftorms that howl around, 
Hoping peace may yet be found. 
Original Poetry. 
559 
Wealthy fortune, fplendid flate, 
Thefe 1 with not as my fate 5 
Nor the howling tempeft’s wave, > 
Searching peace, with I to brave; 
But my Laura’s {miles to fee 
Marks the hour of peace for me, 
And to print the burning kifs 
Is to me the hour of blifs. 
MOSECHUS, 
For the Monthly laste 
All hail the fhouting trumpet, 
The furly cannon’s roar 5 | 
The anfwering gun along the deep, 
To the thunder of the fhore ! 
round the ifle of Albion 
A thoufand banners wave ; 
While Freedom chants her anthem, 
At the union of the brave. 
All hail the clanging cymbal, 
The voice of the deepening drum 3 
Let millions flah their mufquetry, 
Since the throat of war is dumb. | ‘ 
For the patriot fons of liberty, 
Have feen the battle ceafe; 
And nations give a brother’s hand 
At the altar-{ftone of Peace. 
For you, who braved the danger, 
The heat of the battling plain; 
And you who trod the flippery deck, 
*Mid the carnage of the main 5 
Ye now fhall change the ramparts 
Where the midnight breezes numb, 
The fplinter’d maft and rocking keel, 
For the facred fields of dome. 
Then they who charg’d the burfting bomb, | 
And the batt’ring cannon’s blaft, 
Shall tell, beneath their foreft trees, 
Of the dangers they have paft ; 
Amid the fcenes of infancy, 
Forget the battle’s rage 5 
And the native plains that nurf’d their 
youth, 
Be the refuge of their age, 
Now, now, united millions, 
The worfhip hour is come, dhe 
When Peace fhall dwe!] with Nature, 
On the patriot hills of home. 
Along the fhores of Europe, 
The bloodlefs ftandards wave 5 
While Freedom chants her anthem, 
At the union of the brave! 
Edinburgh, April 1802. 
- 
csr SR A TSA A SESS ST GEIS EE TST APN ES 
ExrRaTa.—lIn the Ketrofpeét for June, in our account of Ackerman’s admirable print 
of the British Fleet entering the found, for «* Black {culpfit,” sead 6* Biuck iculpfit.” 
ORI. 
