r 
iso9.] 
ON THE 
DEATH OF GENERAL MOORE. 
NA ORN broke the parting clouds of night, 
And, dawning on the bloody fight, 
Which dy’d Iberia’s shore, 
Mark’d as the vaunting Frenchmen fled, 
Our valiant soldiers bravely led 
To fame by gallant Moore! 
Amid the battle’s rage he flies, 
And with a frown the foe defies, 
By daring valeur bore; 
But, ah! he falls among the slain, 
Although they fly with fear the plain, 
Or yield to gallant Moore! 
The warrior dies, but Fame shall tell, 
Ere in the arms of Death he fell, 
From France he laurels tore; 
And English hands most grateful raise 
Some stone to tell to future days, 
Tie fame of gallant Moore! 
Sanuary 23, 1809. 
te 
For the Monihly Magazine. 
[The poetry of John Oldham, once so popular 
that his collective works went through six 
editions, is now almost forgotten. Taste 
and morality will not sigh deeply for the 
loss. Yet, among the satires, there are lines 
which may deserve transplanting ; and, 
among the Pindarics, there is one, which 
carries the manner of Cowley to higher 
perfection than any other production of that 
pedantic school, and which may be thought 
GW. 
to have served as a model forthe Threnodia 
Augustalis of Dryden.—This poem, pruned 
into readable limits, is herewith recom- 
mended for your insertion, and thus de- 
serves to be gathered into an Anthology of 
British Odes. It describes a character of a 
scarce, not of an unreal class. The extrae 
Vagance may diminish the credibility but 
not the ingenuity of the praise. If this 
smellsof the lamp, it is of Aladdin’s, which 
dispatched a genius on its owner’s errands 
beyond the boundaries of nature.—The Ode 
is inscribed to the memory of Mr. Charles 
Morwent. } 
BF st friend! could my unbounded grief but 
rate, 4 
With due proportion thy too cruel fate; 
Could i some bappy miracle bring forth, 
Great as my wishes and thy greater worth, 
All Helicon should -soon be thine, 
And pay a tribute to thy shrine: 
The learned sisters ali transform’d should be, 
No longer nine, but one Mejpomene: 
Each should intoa Niobe relent; 
At once the mourner and the monument 3 
Each should become like Memnon’s speaking 
- tomb; 
To sing thy well-tun’d praise 5 
Nor should we fear their being dumb, 
Thou nt woulest make them vosal with thy 
ays. 
Montury Mac. No. 182, 
=. 
| Pe eo. , 
ORIGINAL POETRY. | 
ee 
Adieu, blest soul, whose hasty flight.away 
Tells—Heaven did ne’cr display 
Such happiness to bless the world with stay ; 
Death in thy fall betray’d his utmost spite, _ 
His shafts most times are levell’d at the 
white 5 
He srw thy blooming ripeness Time prevent, 
And envious grew, and strait his arrow sent 5 
So buds appearing ere the frosts are past, i 
Nipt by some unkind blast, / 
Wither in penance for their forward haste 5 ‘ 
Thus have I seen a morn so bright, i 
So deck’d with all the robes of light, 
As if it scorn’d to think of night, 
Which arude storm ere noon would shroud, 
Burying its early glories in acioud: 
The day in funeral blackness mourn’d, 
And al) to sighs and all to tears is turn’d. 
But why do we thy death uncimely deem, 
Or Fate blaspheme ? | 
We should thy full ripe virtues wrong, 
Tothink thee young; 
Fate, when thy forward giftsshe told, 
Forgot thy tale of years, and thought thee old 5 
The brisk endowments of thy mind 
Scorn’d in the bud to be confin’d, 
Outran thy age, and left slow Time behind 5 
Which made thee reach maturity so soon, 
And at first dawn present a full-spread noon 5 
So thy perfections with thy soul agree ; 
Both knew no nonage, knew no infancy z 
As the first pattern of our race began; 
His life in middle age, at birth a perfect mane 
Let our just wonder next commence ; 
How so small room could hoid such excel 
lence ; 
Nature was proud when she contriv’d. thy 
frame, f 
In thee she labour’d for a name; 
Her curious hand here drew in straits, and 
e qouned . 
All-the perfections scrawl’d on human kind ; 
Teaching her numerous gifts to be 
Crampt in a short epitome 5 
So stars contracted in a diamond shine, 
And jewels in a narrow point confine 
The riches of an Indian mine: | 
Thus subtle artists can 
Draw nature’s larger self within a span. 
Nor were these fruits on a rough soil bestown, 
Like gems in rugged quarries thickest sown; 
Good nature and good parts so shar’d thy 
mind, 
The Muse and Grace were so,.combin’d, 
Twas hard to guess which with more lustre 
shin’d. 
A genius did thy whole comportment act, 
Whose charming complaisance must every 
heart attract, 
Such a soit air thy weli-tun’d sweetness 
sway'd 3 F 
As told—thy soul of harmony was made. 
All rude affections that disturbers be, 
That mar or disunite society, 
Were foreigners to thee; 
¥ 
Love 
