Sidor som bilder
PDF

o Wolfe, to thee a streaming flood of woe,

Sigbing we pay, and think e'en conquest dear; Quebec in vain shall teach our breasts to glow,

Whilst thy sad fate extorts the heart-wrung tear. Alive the foe thy dreadful vigour fed,

And saw thee fall with joy-pronouncing eyes: Yet they shall know thou conquerest, though dead;

Since from thy tomb a thousand heroes rise.

EPITAPH

ON

DR. PARNELL.

THIS tomb inscrib'd to gentle Parnell's name,

1.May speak our gratitude, but not his fame. What heart but feels his sweetly-moral lay, That leads to truth through pleasure's flowery wa Celestial themes confess'd his tuneful aid; And heaven, that lent him genius, was repaid. Needless to him the tribute we bestow, The transitory breath of fame below: More lasting rapture from his works shall rise, While converts thank their poet in the skies.

EPITAPH

ON

EDWARD PURDON *.

L ERE lies poor Ned Purdon, from misery freed,
II Who long was a bookseller's back :
He led such a dampable life in this world,
I don't think he'll wish to come back.

AN ELEGY

ON THE GLORY OF HER SEX,

MRS. MARY BLAIZE.

GOOD people all, with one accord,
U Lament for Madam Blaize,
Who never wanted a good word !

From those who spoke her praise.

• This gentleman was educated at Trinity.col. lege, Dublin; but having wasted his patrimony, he enlisted as a foot-soldier. Growing tired of that employment, he obtained his discharge, and became a scribbler in the newspapers. He translated Vol. taire's Henriede.

The needy seldom pass'd her door,

Aud always found her kind; She freely lent to all the poor,

Who left a pledge behind. She strove the neighbourhood to please,

With manners wond'rous winning; And never follow'd wicked ways,

Unless when she was signing.

At church, in silks and satins new,

With hoop of monstrous size; She never slumber'd in her pew,

But when she shut her eyes.

Her love was sought, I do aver,

By twenty beaux and more;
The king himself has follow'd her,

When she has walk'd before.

But now her wealth and finery fled,

Her hangers-on cut short all: The doctors found, when she was dead,

Her last disorder mortal.

Let us lament, in sorrow sore,

For Kent-street well may say, That had she liv'd a twelvemonth more,

She had not died to-day.

A SONNET.

WEEPING, murmuring, complaining,

W Lost to every gay deligbt; Mira, too sincere for feigning,

Fears th' approaching bridal night.

Yet why impair thy bright perfection,

Or dim thy beauty with a tear? Had Mira follow'd my direction,

She long had wanted cause of fear.

FROM THE

ORATORIO OF THE CAPTIVITY.

SONG.

THE wretch condemn'd with life to part, -
1 Still, still on hope relies;
And ev'ry pang that rends the heart,

Bids expectation rise.
Hope, like the glimm'ring taper's light,

Adorns and cheers the way:
And still, as darker grows the night,

Emits a brighter ray,

[merged small][ocr errors]

MEMORY, thou fond deceiver,

Still importunate and vain,
To former joys, recurring ever,

And turning all the past to pain !
Thou, like the world, the opprest oppressing

Thy smiles increase the wretch's woe!
And he who wants each other blessins,
In thee must ever find a foe.

L 2

A PROLOGUE,

Written and spoken by

THE POET LABERIUS,

A ROMAN KNIGHT, WHOM CÆSAR FORCED UPON

THE STAGE.

Preserved by Macrobius ,

W HAT! no way left to slug th' inglorious stage,

W And save from infamy my siyking age!
Scarce half-alive, oppress'd with many a year,
What in the name of dotage drives me here?
A time there was, when glory was my guide,
Nor force nor fraud could turn my steps aside.
Unaw'd by power, and unappall'd by fear,
With honest thrift, I held my honour dear:
But this vile hour disperses all my store,
And all my hoard of honour is no more;
For ah! too partial to my life's decline,
Cæsar persuades, submission must be mine;
Him I obey, whom heaven itself obeys,
Hopeless of pleasing, yet inclin'd to please,

• This translation was first printed in one of our author's earliest works, ‘The Present State of Learn. iug in Europe. 12mo. 1759.

« FöregåendeFortsätt »