How chang'd the scene!-in sad funereal pride
Slow moves the sable hearse along the shore,
O'er the low beach deserted by the tide.
The solemn death-bell swings with sullen roar.
Anna, adorn'd by Virtue's purest grace,
Youth's freshest bloom, and Beauty's loveliest charms,
Far from each weeping Parent's fond embrace,
Torn from an agonizing Husband's arms,
Yon tomb must hide!- -But, at the Eternal's call
Her gentle Spirit from that tomb shall rise;
The adamantine chains of Death shall fall,
And kindred Seraphs waft her to the skies.
FOR THE WESTMINSTER VOLUNTEER CAVALRY.
Too oft has Ambition, with insolent eye,
Beheld his proud banners insulting the sky,
From their folds inauspicious while Terror's red hand
Shook horror and dread o'er a desolate land:
While the Ensigns of Britain ne'er fly to the wind
But to rescue from danger the Rights of Mankind.
Not the rights of Destruction, which Gallia's fell brood
Try to spread o'er the earth by oppression and blood,
But the sacred deposit our Fathers have plac'd,
By Liberty guarded, by Loyalty grac'd:
Ennobled by these, Britain's Standards shall wave,
And lead on her Warriors who conquer to save.
While our Flags o'er the Ocean triumphantly ride,
The guard and the glory of Neptune's blue tide,
Our steady Battalions their Colours shall show,
The pride of their country, the dread of the foe:
Their Standards our Troops o'er Invasion shall bear,
Swift and loud as the tempest that pours through our air.
Then true to our King, to our Laws, to our Land;
May Honour and Faith still distinguish our band,
Those Standards to guard be our hearts still addrest,
Which Beauty has given, which Religion has blest;
Resolv'd to defend them with life's latest breath,
Display them in Conquest, or grasp them in Death.
FOR THE CORPS OF SOUTHAMPTON ASSOCIATED HOUSE
ON THE DAY THEY RECEIVED THEIR
WHEN Gallia's fell despots with blood-thristy mind Op'd the flood-gates of slaughter to deluge mankind, All ranks, all conditions, the torrent supplied,
Labour quitted the vineyard, and Commerce the tide, Wild Horror the banners of Vengeance unfurl'd, And demons of rage shook dismay on the world.
Shall Britain, where Plenty broods over each vale,
Toil spreads wide the harvest, and Commerce the sail;
Shall Britain, unmov'd, hear the tempest that roars Round Europe's aw'd realms, and e'en threatens her Shores?
No! Her Sons, free and loyal, united and brave, Guard the Blessings which Freedom and Industry gave.
'Mid the fields of delight that adorn our fair Isle,
As thy scenes, O Southampton, transcendently smile,
As more genial thy clime, as more balmy thy air,
More luxuriant thy shades, and thy Daughters more fair;
So to shield, to protect them from insult and harm,
More firm be the bosom, more vig'rous the arm!
Then assemble, inspir'd both by Glory and Love,
Round the Colours which Beauty and Innocence wove.
And should Gallia's fell Demons approach with their
Dismay'd shall they fly from this long-dreaded coast,
Whence the waves royal Henry triumphantly bore
When Agincourt's Heroes embark'd from this shore.
Then while our bright Ensign unfurl'd to the sky,
To Freedom and Loyalty sacred shall fly,
(They only are free who wild Faction disown,
And who is disloyal when George fills the Throne ?)
Fill, fill high the goblet-" Long life to the King!"
Or "Success to our Country!" for 'tis the same thing.
WHAT tho' my Muse is train'd to sing
The Birth-day of our gracious King,
While Sack rewards her pains;
Sweeter than Sack a Smile shall pay,
On blooming Mary's Natal Day,
My voluntary Strains.
Mary! to thee this day imparts
What more entrances venal hearts
Than Beauty, Sense, or Grace;
For now, so Britain's laws decree,
Thy ample Fortune clear and free
Invites Man's sordid race.
But trust me, Mary, you have more
Than lavish Fortune's golden store
To bless a favour'd Youth :-
A lovely form, a blushing cheek,
An eye where Sense and Sweetness speak,
And Innocence and Truth.
Then Wish for Wish, and Heart for Heart,
To thee may Venus powers impart ;
While he who gains thy love, Mary, in that a prize shall gain Titled Ambition's proudest train, Wealth's richest stores above.
FROM A MUSICAL DRAMA, IN THE YEAR 1788.
FANCY's visions, like the sand,
Every idle mark receive;
Lines are drawn by every hand,
Which no lasting impress leave.
But when with assiduous care
Truth engraves her precepts deep;
Each impression printed there,
Sacred virtue still shall keep.
THE flowery May with cheerful voice,
Now bids the hills and dales rejoice!
The genial zephyr wakes the morn,
Sweet blossoms paint the fragrant thorn;
In gambols o'er the enamel'd ground
The sportive lambkins wanton bound;
While on my pensive breast alone,
Distress has fix'd her icy throne.
Not all the blossoms that appear
To ornament the vernal year;
Not all the sweets the western gale
From smiling Flora can inhale.
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