AN ADDRESS TO THE TOMB OF CHARLES Fox, BURIED IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY OCT. 10, 1806; -WRITTEN ON THE DAY OF HIS FUNERAL.

Cosi fuggendo, il mondo seco volve,
Nè mai si posa nè s'arresta o torna
Fin che v'ha ricondotti in poca polve.

E non pur quel di fuori il tempo solve
Ma le vostr' eloquenze, e i vostri ingegni.

PETRARCA.

AND is this all of that accomplish'd mind? His Country's pride, and friend of human-kind? This mournful pageant that surrounds the bier?— Phantoms of grief that rise and disappear? Shall Death involve in his unfathom'd gloom The virtues that aspire beyond the tomb?

Though in this Gothic pile's illustrious shade With Kings and Heroes Death his bed has made, Are sculptur'd honours all that Fox may claim? Shall urns and busts alone transmit his name? Can monuments from Time's oblivion save? These are the glowworm's lustre on the grave! Genius! in whom the dead repose their trust, The Sainted Guardian of the sleeping dust, Thine be the task, for thine's the Muse's fire, To guide the chisel, or to wake the lyre ! Thine to illumine the Historian's page, And bid thy Heroes live through every age! Here shall the Muse her glowing wreath sustain, For him that spurn'd Ambition's venal chain, Won from the Rival Senator applause,

And charm'd the listening world in Freedom's cause!

Enlighten'd Statesman, of exalted mind!
Philanthropist, embracing all mankind!

Guide of the weak, and friend of the oppress'd!
The advocate of Peace, by honour bless'd!

Let such bright annals, wing'd by hallow'd Fame,
Bear to remotest worlds this honour'd name!
And, when memorials of a texture frail,

With all the sentinels of Time, shall fail,
Though Time himself upon the watch could sleep,
Eternity the sacred charge will keep.

ON THE NEW-YEAR;

TO AN ADMIRED FRIEND OF THE OTHER SEX *.

ANOTHER year on Friendship's book
With steadfast eye begins to look;
The heart, with pride of honest pleasure,
Explores the jewels of its treasure,
Finds not a lustre to condemn,
And glows at each unfading gem.

Sure they are pictures, I exclaim,
That from a Titian's pencil came,
Which years with mellow tints improve,
And with whose evening Time 's in love.
The ardent bosom's glowing zeal,
And polish'd honour's brilliant seal;
The commerce of enchanting verse,
And partial judgment, Fancy's nurse,
Enlivening dreams of youthful joy,
Which no records of birth destroy.

*Mrs. Moody. See before, p. 160.

Blush, idiot Love! and, vanquish'd, own The guards of thy inferior throne!

'Tis Friendship that, in league with Time,
Shall above all the Passions climb,
And, firm as adamant, sustain

The champions of her blissful reign.

A RHAPSODY ON A SUMMER'S DAY.

July 1804.

THE Sun was bright, the form unseen,
An Ariel whisper'd, "All is best:
Nor pale thy cheek, nor figure lean,
With a gay spirit thou art bless'd.

"Ascend the hill, and look around;
Compare the lustre and the shade!
Recall the past, that smil'd or frown'd;
With Reason's touch the colours aid!

"The wreath has droop'd, the world is lost,
The nuptial joy has broke its chain;
By Fortune's minions thou art cross'd,
And reft of all her pageant's train.

""Tis one impression of the change:-
But other pictures are at hand,
With a bird's freedom thou canst range,
And see the tempest from the land.

"When Fortune hail'd thee, all were friends, Whose love the gift or feast could buy: But, when Distress the victim bends,

Averted is the Courtier's eye.

"Suspicion poison'd Fortune's joy,

They love my purse,' could then be said; But fear of treason they destroy

Who bind the wound, and lift the head.

"If thou hast virtues that are priz'd
When they are level'd in the shade,
The homage cannot be disguis'd,
And by no sycophant be paid.

"The cares of life, that passions waste,
Leave all her peaceful charms behind
They have no elbow-room for taste,
And for the heart no leisure find."

ON A MOTHER AND A DAUGHTER.

How can Love distinguish them—
Flora's branch and parent-stem?
When the rose-bud joins the rose,
He despairs to interpose.

Beauty's claim, disarming choice,
Reconciles the partial voice;
All the wreaths that one shall gain,
Still the other can retain :

Each accepts the wreath conferr'd,
When the other is preferr'd.

For competitors of art

What a lesson they impart !
In the task by Fate design'd,
Is the difference confin'd;
One prepares to be a Mother,
Just as lovely as the other.

TO AMORET, ON STELLA'S DEATH.

WHEN Youth and Beauty in their shroud

Awaken a religious fear,

The King of Terrors cries aloud,
And claims the moralizing tear.

It is not helpless Nature's grief

That such a call from thee demands;
But Christian fear, that prompts relief,
And penance of the heart commands.
The dozing morn, the feasting night,
In Beauty's gay and wanton bower,
Doom, with a self-accuser's right,
The solitary culprit's hour.

Oh! check not sorrows bless'd as these
By Admonition's hallow'd rod!
Invoke distress, and fly from ease

To pain-the messenger from God!

It comes, with mercy on its wing,

To wounded hearts, that bleed with shame,
Reforms them with its penal sting,
And pierces only to reclaim.

Not ev'n, dear Amoret, in thee
Unclouded is the moral grace,

Nor is the heart from errors free

That glows on that ingenuous face.

What! hast thou never danc'd and sung,
With such impatience to excel,

That pride upon the accents hung,

And made the footstep move too well!