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POETICAL WORKS

OF

JAMES THOMSON,

WITH HIS LAST

CORRECTIONS, ADDITIONS,

AND

IMPROVEMENTS.

WITH THE LIFE OF THE AUTHOR,

AND

AN ESSAY

ON THE PLAN AND CHARACTER OF

THE POEM ON THE SEASONS,

BY J. AIKEN, M. D.

VOL. II.

PHILADELPHIA,

PRINTED FOR B. JOHNSON, 31, & J. JOHNSON, 147, MAR-
KET STREET, & R. JOHNSON, 2, N. THIRD STREET,
BY THOMAS & GEORGE PALMER.

POETICAL WORKS

OF

JAMES THOMSON,

WITH HIS LAST

CORRECTIONS, ADDITIONS,

AND

IMPROVEMENTS.

WITH THE LIFE OF THE AUTHOR,

AND

AN ESSAY

ON THE PLAN AND CHARACTER OF

THE FOEM ON THE SEASONS,

BY J. AIKEN, M. D.

VOL. II.

PHILADELPHIA,

PRINTED FOR B. JOHNSON, 31, & J. JOHNSON, 147, MAR-
KET STREET, & R. JOHNSON, 2, N. THIRD STREET,
BY THOMAS & GEORGE PALMER.

...............

"E'en not yon sail, that from the sky-mixt wave
Dawns on the sight, and wafts the royal youth*,
A freight of future glory to my shore;
E'en not the flattering view of golden days,
And rising periods yet of bright renown,
Beneath the parents, and their endless line
Thro' late revolving time, can sooth my rage,
While, unchastis'd, th' insulting Spaniard dares
Infest the trading flood, full of vain war,
Despise my navies, and my merchants seize,
As, trusting to false peace, they fearless roam
The world of waters wild, made by the toil
And liberal blood of glorious ages mine;
Nor bursts my sleeping thunder on their head.

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Whence this unwonted patience? this weak doubt? 30
This tame beseeching of rejected peace?
This meek forbearance? this unnative fear,
To generous Britons never known before?
And sail'd my fleets, for this, on Indian tides
To float, unactive, with the veering winds?
The mockery of war! while hot Disease,
And Sloth distemper'd, swept off burning crowds,
For action ardent, and amid the deep
Inglorious sunk them in a watery grave.
There now they lie beneath the rolling flood,
Far from their friends and country, unaveng'd,
And back the drooping war-ship comes again,
Dispirited, and thin: her sons asham'd
Thus idly to review their native shore,
With not one glory sparkling in their eye,
One triumph on their tongue. A passenger,
The violated merchant comes along,

That far-sought wealth, for which the noxious gale
He drew and sweat beneath equator suns,

* Frederick, prince of Wales, then lately arrived.

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