TO LIEUTENANT GENERAL SIR ROWLAND HILL, K. B. HILL, whose high daring with renewed success Hath cheered our tardy war, what time the cloud Of expectation, dark and comfortless, Hung on the mountains; and yon factious crowd Blasphened their country's valor, babbling loud; Then was thine arm revealed, to whose young might, By Toulon's leaguered wall, the fiercest bowed; Whom Egypt honored, and the dubious fight Of Sad Corunna's winter, and more bright Douro, and Talavera's gory bays ; Wise, modest, brave, in danger foreniost found. O still,young warrior,may thy toil-earned praise, With England's love, and England's honor crowned; Gild with delight thy father's latter days. IMITATION OF AN ODE BY KOODRUT, IN HINDOOSTANEE. AMBITION's voice was in my ear, she whispered yesterday, • How goodly is the land of Room, how wide the Russian sway. How blest to conquer either realm, and dwell through life to come, Lulled by the harp's melodious string, cheered by the northern drum.' But wisdom heard; O youth,' she said, “in passion's fetter tied, O come and see a sight with me shall cure thee of thy pride.' She led me to a lonely dell, a sad and shady ground, Where many an ancient sepulchre gleamed in the moonshine round. And here Secunder sleeps,' she cried ;- this is his rival's stone; And here the mighty chief reclines who reared the Median throne. < |