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TEARS OF CALEDONIA.
WRITTEN IN THE CLOSE OF M,DCCXLV.
BY T. SMOLLET, M.D.
MOURN, hapless Caledonia, mourn
The wretched owner sees, afar,
What boots it, then, in ev'ry clime,
The rural pipe, and merry lay,
Oh baneful cause, oh fatal morn,
The pious mother doom'd to death,
The bleak wind whistles round her head, Her helpless orphans cry for bread; Bereft of shelter, food, and friend,
She views the shades of night descend; And, stretch'd beneath th' unclement skies, Weeps o'er her tender babes, and dies.
Whilst the warm blood bedews my veins,
PEACE OF AIX LA CHAPELLE,
M DCC XLVIII.
BY THE RIGHT REV. R. HURD,
BE still my fears, suggest no false alarms;
Are vain enough that inclination warms;
No foreign influence needs the willing Muse inspire.
The willing Muse, adventurous in her flight,
Tothee,lov'd Peace, shall raise the untaught strain;
High on some wave-worn cliff she views serene,
Or, where Augusta's turrets cleave the skies,
Or flies, with transport, to her native plain,
Sees corn-clad fields, fresh lawns, and pastures fair,
Sees Plenty vindicate her ancient reign,
And pour forth all her charms to crown the various
But chief the Muse to Academic groves
Her kindred train and best-lov'd arts invite; Thro' Cam's o'ershadowing bowers intranc'd she
Whence sacred Science streams, and Genius spreads his light.
• Here will I rest, she cry'd; my laurel here
• Eternal blooms; here hangs my golden lyre, Which erst my Spenser tun'd to shepherd's ear, And loftiest Milton smote with genuine epic fire.
And O1 if aught my fond presages shew,
'On these lov'd bowers while Peace her influence
Some hand again shall snatch it from the bough, 'Wake each high-sounding string, and charm the echoing glades.
Then shall be sung the glorious deeds of war, 'How Virtue strove, where envious Fortune sail'd: · Expecting Fame the conflict view'd from far, 'And Britain's valor crown'd, tho' Gallia's host prevail'd.