'Tis sweet to echo sigh for sigh; 'Tis sweet to nurse a silent grief, 'Tis sweet by twilight pale, alone, 'Tis sweet to wake the harp of woe, EPIGRAM. To MRS. E* 'Tis Friendship's right, I know full well, R. A. D. Ir e'er to feel the breath of Fame Thy name breathes magic o'er my song, An unknown spirit mov'd along, Thy rising worth with silent joy As every radiant star supplies, Thy presence bids the morning rays * Ossian. As fields of grain th' impulsive wind, So, mov'd by thee, my yielding mind, Thus o'er the plaintive harp I bend, And hence the Mantuan's glowing page, Hence too, the milder Roman's * bays While breathes through all his polish'd lays, And nature best my bosom warms, When wild her features grow, When soften'd beauty, meeken'd grace, Th' enchantment of each magic place, Thus reason gave my passion birth; And to my eyes the total earth Is full of thee and love. * Ovid. ODE, On the Thanksgiving for the Victory of the Nile. Partly an Imitation of ENOUGH hath impious Gallic rage Enough have Atheists in their pride The God of all the earth defied: Robb'd by the sacrilegious hand And worse than brutal fury overwhelm, And drench with blood of massacres the realm. We saw with wild gigantic stride For Indus-long a destin'd prey To death and rapine speed their way; Whilst in extremes upon the western flood Aghast with horror pale Hibernia stood. IV. What power shall bring them back to peace, To thee the willing vow we pay, V. Ordain'd by thy supreme decree To rule the empire of the sea, Thus far nor further shalt thou go: To thee alone the grateful voice we raise→ 0 4 |