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Then, once again shall o'er the foaming tide,
The swelling sail of commerce fearless ride,
With bounteous hand shall plenty grace our shore,
And cheerless want's complaints be known no more.
Then hear a nation's pray'r, lov'd goddess hear!
Wipe the wan cheek, deep lav'd by many a tear;
Nature, the triumph foul of horror o'er,

Shall raise her frame to scenes of blood no more.
Pale recollection shall recall her woes,

Again shall paint her agonizing throes,

These, o'er the earth thine empire firm shall raise, Unaw'd by war's destructive storms, the bliss of future

days.

Barnard's Inn

T. G***.

REAL LIFE.

From Pinn's Poems of Chatham.

THE waiter call'd, "Come, come," the vet'ran

said,

"My worthy lad, and light me up to bed."

"Yes, sir," the youth, with an uncommon glee,
And thus aside, "You'll not forget my fee:

"Shall I assist you, sir."-" Ay, boy, my frame
Has been hove down, since which I'm something lame;
Tho' splic'd and fish'd, messmate, you needn't fear,
But to my hammock I can steady steer."

Thus up the stairs, with true familiar chat,
Till to the bed, when down the hero sat;
"Unscrew this arm, and lay it in the chair."
"Sir," said the boy, and wond'ring, 'gan to stare;
But willing to oblige, declin'd a frown,

Turn'd twice, or thrice, and laid it safely down:
"That's right, good fellow, now this serve the same;
You know I told you I was something lame."
Surpriz'd, the youth th' unusual task performs,
And side by side disposes of his arms!
But what astonishment his bosom fills;
His vital blood in every channel chills,

When he a leg lifts up, and says, "with care
Unscrew this lad, and lay it in the chair!"
Trembling he takes it off, and puts it by:
The second leg he raises with a sigh,

"This too, my worthy soul, pack with the rest."
The boy aghast, a thousand fears express'd!
Old Spritsail saw the youth so much amaz'd,
He with most solemn phiz upon him gaz❜d:
"Now Jack, to finish, just unscrew my head,
And whilst its warm, my body put to bed!
Scarce out the word, unable to contain,
With horror fill'd, he bellow'd out amain,
And cross the room, quite lost to sense he flew,
Roll'd down the stairs, for not a step he knew!

"T

THE HERMIT.

WAS in a thicket's wild retreat,
Within a lonely dell,

Retir'd from grandeur's busy seat,
A hermit chose his cell,

There, oft to watch the purling stream,
He sat the live long hour,

Secure from noon tide's fervid beam,
Remote from wealth and power.

And there, secluded from mankind,
He pass'd his days alone;

His were the pleasures of the mind,
And those pleasures were his own.
Which nought on earth could e'er bereave
Him, in whose breast they dwelt,
Yet oft that breast a sigh did heave,
Long grief from love he felt.'

For he had lov'd a beauteous fair,
Who in her turn repaid

That love he breath'd, as pure as air,
To so divine a maid.

But heaven forbad the nuptial band,
Which soon was to be tied,

And took her soul far from that land,
To be to bliss allied.

While he, dejected, lonely left,
Her hapless loss to mourn,
Of bliss, of happiness bereft,
'Twas too much to be borne;
But time, the soother of each woey
Had made his soul resign'd,
He waited long his time to go,
And gave to heav'n his mind.

WHY

THE KISS.

TO HELEN.

"HY did I tempt that heavenly bliss,
Which now with anguish rends my heart;"

That dear, that soft, that fatal kiss,

Did horror to each nerve impart.

So the faint wretch, with thirst opprest,
Does to the poison'd tree repair,
Nor dreams that it is death to taste,
The fatal fruit which hangs so fair.
But, ah! he soon in ev'ry vein,
Perceives the venom's lurking fires;
Feels that no pow'r can ease his pain,
Condemns his folly, and expires.

VERSES

SELIM:

Written on visiting Sidmouth, in Devonshire

OW

Now reigns a solemn stillness o'er the deep,

ruder blasts disturb the general peace;
Serenely smile the skies, and every wave
Dies with a gentle murmur on the shore.
Now sinks the glorious regent of the day
Behind the western cliffs, and eve resumes
Her modest sceptre. O'er the smooth expanse
The shadowy breeze is gently seen to move,
Its track distinguish'd by a darker shade.
The sea-gull flutters in the dusky air,

Whose quick tumultuous cry makes silence seem

More silent; while above the briny wave,

The floundering dolphin shoots the pointed head,
And calls imagination to survey

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Ocean's vast progeny ; the caverns deep,
Unfathomable immense, where lie conceal'd
Unweildy forms, peopling the dark abyss.
Soon from heaven's concave, looks the paler orb,
Whose changeful rule the ebbing seas obey,
Upon the subject tide, and softly pours

Her trembling radiance down on that bright track
The eye delighted dwells, and seems to trace
Ideal shapes in robes of purest light,

With gentle minds inform'd, that love to glide
O'er the calm bosom of the swelling main,
Beneath the lunar beam.

Exeter.

LINES

J. H. B.

H

On the Death of the Rev. Gilbert Wakefield.

ARK! what event do those sad sounds foretell
Wakefield is dead, replies the tolling bell
Wakefield, the man whose independent soul
No paltry bribe could temper, or controul.
Wakefield is dead; whose energetic mind
Rang'd through the realm of science unconfin'd;
Left custom's path, which timid minds pursue,
And glean'd from truth alone what things are true.
View'd as a patriot; Wakefield bent his knee
At thy blest shrine, immortal liberty!

View'd as a christian; Wakefield dar'd to love
That God in whom we live, and breathe, and move.
View'd as a husband, Wakefield fully knew
A husband's duties; and perform'd them too.
View'd as a father; just but not severe,
His children reverenc'd with filial fear.
View'd as a friend; affectionate and true,
He justly won the hearts of those he knew.
View'd as a man; he seem'd by heav'n design'd,
To soften, meliorate, and bless mankind.

Of those who knew him, this was the request,
Long life to him, that they might long be blest.
But ah! relentless death, with sudden blast,
Wither'd those virtues, whose superior cast
Made thém unfit on earth, long time to last;
While liberty and science shed the tear
Departed worth deserves, on Wakefield's bier;
While they with friendship unpolluted join,
Unfading laurels round his tomb to twine;
Be this our joy, our friend no more shall know
Pangs of oppression, hatred, envy, woe.
For plac'd already in a world of bliss,
He feels that joy he ne'er could feel in this.*
There he already lives; hereafter there

He'll shine more glorious than the brightest star.f
Hackney, Oct. 8, 1801.

J. F.

SOLILOQUY.

Supposed to be written Three Centuries ago.

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COURG'D by the hand of lawless pow'r,
Eventful rolls each ling'ring hour,

And heavier woes impend;

No gleam of hope can I descry,
That e'er the bands of slavery,
Bold liberty will rend.

Plenty no longer crowns the board,
Of humble swains; vile wretches hoard,
The produce of their fields-

Pale wanders toil, half-starv'd and faint,
To wealth in vain he makes complaint,
His breast no pity yields.

Thus ruminating on my fate,
And murm'ring pensively I sat,

When lo! a form sublime,
Portray'd by fancy, 'fore me came,
'Twas fair Britannia, august dame,
The guardian of our clime.

* Corinthians 5 ch.8 v

†Daniel 12 ch. 3 v.

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