When he, these favour'd shades appears to bless, Hail seats rever'd! where thoughtful pleasures dwell, And hovering Peace extends her downy wings, Where musing Knowledge holds her humble cell, And Truth divine unlocks her secret springs; This verse with mild acceptance deign The Muse suspends her votive lyre. Thee, Granta, thus with filial thanks I greet, With smiles maternal thou those thanks receive, For Learning's humble wealth, for friendship sweet, For every calmer joy thy scenes could give. While thus I sport upon thy peaceful strand, ODE XIX. A FRAGMENT. Supposed to have been found in a dark Passage in the BY MISS HELEN MARIA WILLIAMS. RISE, winds of night! relentless tempests, rise! Rush from the troubled clouds, and o'er me roll; In this chill pause a deeper horror lies, A wilder fear appals my shuddʼring soul.'Twas on this day, this hour accurst, That Nature starting from repose Heard the dire shrieks of murder burst- I shudd'ring pass that fatal room Which Fate perchance unlocks no more; Death smear'd with blood o'er the dark portal lowesrs. 120 How fearfully my step resounds Spare, savage blast! the taper's quiv'ring fires, No mortal force this gate unbarr'd Athwart the horrid darkness dimly throws, And from yon grated window chases night.— Ye visions that before me roll, That freeze my blood, that shake my Are ye the phantoms of a dream? They glide more near Their forms unfold! Fix'd are their eyes, on me they bend Their glaring look is cold! And hark!-I hear soul! Sounds that the throbbing pulse of life suspend. • No wild illusion cheats thy sight • Mark the native glories spread Around my bleeding brow! "The crown of Albion wreath'd my head, • To bask in heav'ns empyreal light, • The vultures ply their baleful wings, 'A cloud of deep'ning colour marks their flight, Staining the golden day : But see! amid the rav'nous brood A bird of fiercer aspect soar― The spirits of a rival race, Hang on the noxious blast, and trace, With gloomy joy, his destin'd prey; 'Inflame th' ambitious wish that thirsts for blood, And plunge his talents deep in kindred gore. • View the stern form that hovers nigh, "In scorn of hideous death; When her affrighted eye beheld the hands 'Look where a royal infant kneels, And tells an absent mother all he feels:- Where shall her guardian form be found, 'On her he calls in accents wild, And wonders why her step is slow To save her suff'ring child !— Rob'd in the regal garb, his brother stands In more majestic woe And meets the impious stroke with bosom bare, Then fearless grasps the murd’rer's hands, And asks the minister of hell to spare The child whose feeble arms sustain His bleeding form from cruel Death. • In vain fraternal fondness pleads, For cold is now his livid cheek And cold his last aspiring breath: And now with aspect meek, The infant lifts his mournful eye, 'And asks, with trembling voice, to die, "If death will cure his heaving heart of painHis heaving heart now bleeds |