SONG.

O MEMORY! thou fond deceiver,

Still importunate and vain,

To former joys recurring ever,

And turning all the past to pain;

Thou, like the world, th' opprest oppressing, Thy smiles increase the wretch's woe! And he who wants each other blessing,

In thee must ever find a foe.

STANZAS

ON

THE TAKING OF QUEBEC.

AMIDST the clamour of exulting joys,

Which triumph forces from the patriot heart, Grief dares to mingle her soul-piercing voice,

And quells the raptures which from pleasures start.

Oh, Wolfe, to thee a streaming flood of woe, Sighing 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 fled,

And saw thee fall with joy-pronouncing eyes: Yet they shall know thou conquerest, though dead! Since from thy tomb a thousand heroes rise.

G

EPITAPH

ON

DR. PARNELL.

THIS tomb, inscrib'd to gentle Parnell's name,
May speak our gratitude, but not his fame.
What heart but feels his sweetly-moral lay,

That leads to truth through pleasure's flow'ry way!
Celestial themes confess'd his tuneful aid;

And Heav'n, 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.

HERE lies poor Ned Purdon, from misery freed,

Who long was a bookseller's hack;

He led such a damnable life in this world

I don't think he'll wish to come back.

PROLOGUE,

WRITTEN AND SPOKEN

BY THE POET LABERIUS,

A Roman Knight,

WHOM CÆSAR FORCED UPON THE STAGE.

PRESERVED BY MACROBIUS.

WHAT! no way left to shun th' inglorious stage,
And save from infamy my sinking 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 pow'r, and unappal'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;