* Or the spires, that high-bosom'd in trees "Reflect the slope sun's golden ray, "Have yet aught of beauty to please; "O haste, to my banks haste away. "Say, where smile the meadows more green? "Where does Philomel warble more sweet? "What stream rolls more pure thro' a scene, "Where Spring's various treasures so meet? "O say, what can Avon compare "To the towers, that crown my proud side! "Or when did the muses sport there? "When deign'd Phoebus to bathe in his tide? "Erewhile thou to Phoebus wast dear, "When Ichin was calm'd by thy strains; "And fondly I deem'd I should hear "Thy pipe echoing shrill through my plains. "Go, Corydon, throw that pipe down, "Thy lips now no longer it breathes; "Go, Corydon, pluck off that crown; "Those laurels ill brook pleasure's wreaths." Oh Isis! thy taunts are in vain ; Far other cares tear my sad heart! If wherever I roll them around *Bosom'd high in tufted trees. MILTON tt. SONNET. BY JOHN LEYDEN, M. D. ALAS! that Fancy's pencil still pourtrays Alas! that ne'er to Reason's placid view By contrast vain impairs our present joys; Of greener fields we dream, and purer skies, And softer tints than ever nature wears. Lo! now to fancy Teviot's dale appears, Adorn'd with flowers of more enchanting hue * Author of "Scenes of Infancy" a poem, descriptive of Teviot-dale, 14 SONNET. TO THE YEW. BY THE SAME. WHEN Fortune smil'd, and Nature's charms were new, I lov'd to see the oak majestic tower; Whose still green leaves in solemn silence wave They rest in peace beneath thy sacred gloom: No leaves but thine in pity o'er them sigh. SONNET. Written on the breaking out of the War between Austria and France. THRICE foil'd, once more, O Austria! to the plain No common ardour must thy soul inflame: No midway path between disgrace and fame; Here, freedom, peace and glory, meet thine eyes; There, slavery, ruin, and eternal shame. R. A. DAVENPORT. SONNET. On the Fall of Saragossa. PROUD Conqueror! though o'er the ruinʼd wall, To those bright palms that shade the slaughter'd brave. History their patriot valour shall record; And Freedom, bending o'er their sacred tomb, With grateful tears their noble toils reward: While thou, descending to the infernal gloom, To meet the tyrant's and the murderer's doom, Shalt leave a name by earth and heaven abhorr❜d! 1809. R. A. D. |