1810.) 
For, of Great Britain's gellant train 
Five thousand bled, and bled in vainy 
For cowardly allies!!! 
Thus changing still, to nothing fixt, 
Of veering themes my song is mixty 
Of glory, and of grief: . 
One hour I feel a poet’s fire, 
The next, | drop the listless lyre, 
And burn the scribbled leaf. 
Yet, though thus wayward be the lays 
Hope, ever steady, ever gay, 
Pictures a prospect fair ; 
She homewards paints a wish’d for rest, 
(By many asocial circle blest, ) 
And whispers ** Peace is there.” 
he 
THE ASS: AN ODE 
®N THE MELIORATION OF THE SPECIESs 
By Dr. TROTSER. 
poor ass! it joys me much to see thee glad, 
And with that saddle new upon thy back; 
No longer dost thou look demure and sad, 
For thou hast been of late a fav’rite hack, 
Yet humbly still thou tread’st the ground, 
Thy modest front with riband bound, 
Shaking thy silver bit along ; 
Smooth is thy hide as any down, 
Not cudgel’d now by lusty clown, 
Or by a dusky tinker’s thong, 
Poor brute! so lately doom’d to fag, 
To toil and sweat from day to day 5 
Thy life near Famine’s hut to drag, 
On stones thy wearied trunk to lay, 
What lucky star has chang’d thy lot > 
Are all those rugged times ae 
From mis’ry’s rub! 
Nor trudging ‘down the dusty street, 
‘Nibbling each dirty weed you meet, 
In pools or dub, 
Oft have I met thee waddling on the road, 
Bending beneath thy panniers, stuff’d and 
tied, 
Of rags and rusty iron, a monstrous load, 
And ekea beggar’s brat on cither side 5 
Forth from a greasy bag their long necks 
throwing, 
Just like two well-fed geese to market 
going 5 
Gabbling and gulping down from wooden 
dish, 
Sour curds and leeks, or mess of stinking 
fish. 
Yet meek wert thou beneath the load, 
Gentle as when you bore a God, 
While all around Hosannas loud did ring, 
And bade the impious Jews behold their King. 
But though despis’d of man, and mock’d to 
scorn, 
Just like thy master, he of Bethlehem born. 
Stiil bounteous Nature had a mind, 
Thy fortune was not all unkind, 
Some cause yowhad to be content. 
Thou ne’er hast heard the din of arms, 
Thy breast no trumpet’s sound alarms, 
4 peaceful drudge thy days were spent 
4 
Original Poetry. 
437 
Go weigh the charger’s fate with Riis 
Drest and caparison’d so fine 5 
Now to martial music dancing, 
Snorting, rearing, bounding, prancing, 
Now the field of glory treading, 
Lame and legless, fainting, bleeding. 
Ah! I have seen him borne beyond the maing 
Each toil forgotten and each danger brav’d, 
On foreign shores by free-born Britons slain, 
Starv’d and destroy’d by those his valour. 
sav'd. 
Yes, where yon tow’ring Gata divides the 
WaVey 
Where bled the noblest host of loyal Gauls, 
And where yon tides two humbler islands 
lave, 
Inglorious there, the English charger falls.* 
Then curse with me this age of steel, 
Till W- ’s heart shall own and 
feel 
And should one sigh his bosom pass, 
Go thank thy stars that thou wert doom’d an 
ASS. 
Once I beheld thee by the stable door, 
And down thy face the showers of hunger 
flew 5 
While the stall’d horse had oats and hay in 
store, 
A thistle’s top was all thou hadst to thew. 
Harsh was the bite, the prickles stinging’y 
The blood at every gnash was springing 5 
There thou like Laz’rus, he like Dives 
* stood, 
Cramming his pamper’d maw with dainty 
food. - 
But cease thou gentle ass to fret and whine, 
Nor envious be to view the well-fed 
steed 5 
Though grooms attend him clad in liv’ries 
fine, 
And man records with pride his noble 
breed ; 
Go turn to Talavera’s plain, 
And see the mighty warrior slain, 
_ Cover’d with dust and blood on life’s las€ 
brink, 
He calls a Spanish ass to bring him drink. 
So Dives laid in He!l, "midst torments dire, 
Cried ‘* Water, Laz’rus, for [burn with 
fire |” 
Then tell thy kind, their case might stil] be 
Worse, 
Nor glory seek beside the slaughter’d horse, 
* A short time after the massacre of the 
army of French loyalists at Cape Quiberon, 
in 1795, a body of cavalry armounting to 
1200, were sent out, but with only three 
menths’ provender in the transports. Not 
being able to affect a junction with the royal 
army, the greater. part died of hunger on 
board : and 300 were carried on shore to the 
little islands. Hedic and. Houat, where they 
were killed off by musketry. 
But 
