ODE IV.

ΤΟ

A FRIEND

WOUNDED IN A DUEL.

BY MR. PARROT.

How long shall tyrant Custom bind In slavish chains the human mind? How long shal! false fantastic honor draw The vengeful sword, with fury fell,

And ranc'rous Malice, dark as hell, In spite of Reason's rule, and Nature's eldest law?

Too many gallant youths have bled;

Too much of British blood been shed By Britons' swords, and that foul monster's laws: Youths that might else have nobly dar'd; More glorious wounds and dangers shar'd For Britain's just defence, and Virtue's injur❜d cause.

So when the fierce Cadmean youth

Sprung from the dragon's venom'd tooth,

Each chief arose in shining armour drest:
With rage inspir'd, the furious band
Soon found a ready foe at hand,

And plung'd the pointed steel each in a brother's breast.

Has Britain then no other foes,

That thus her sons their lives expose To private war, and feuds, and civil fray? Does Spain insult her flag no more!

Does Lewis yet his thoughts give o'er Of universal rule, and arbitrary sway?

'Tis Britons' to support the law; 'Tis theirs ambitious kings to awe, And equal rights of empire to maintain. For this our fathers, brave and stout,

At Agincourt and Cressy fought,

And heap'd fam'd Blenheim's field with mountains of the slain.

How will the Gallic monarch smile,

To see the son's of Albion's isle

Their country's blood with ruthless weapon's drain! Themselves avenge the glorious day

When Marlb'rough swept whole hosts away, And sent the frighted Danube purple to the main!

O say, in this inglorious strife

Thy arm had robb'd thy friend of life,

What pangs, what anguish had thy bosom prov'd? How hadst thou curs'd the cruel deed,

That caus'd the gallant youth to bleed, Pierc'd by thy guilty sword, and slain by him he lov'd

How did the fair Maria blame

Thy high-bred spirit's eager flame,

That, courting danger, slighted her soft love?
Far other wreaths for thee she twin'd;

Far other cares for thee design'd;

And for the laurel crown the myrtle chaplet wove.

If not for her's, for Britain's sake; Forbear thy precious life to stake; Nor taint thy honor with so foul a deed. One day thy country may require

Thy gallant arm and martial fire:

Then may'st thou bravely conquer, or as bravely bleed.

ODE V.

WRITTEN ON BOARD

HIS MAJESTY's SHIP THE CANTERBURY,

After she had lost all her Masts in a Storm.

WITH gallant pomp, and beauteous pride,

The floating pile in harbour rode,
Proud of her freight, the swelling tide
Reluctant left the vessel's side,

And rais'd it as she flow'd.

The waves with Eastern breezes curl'd,
Had silver'd half the liquid plain;
The anchors weigh'd, the sails unfurl'd,
Serenely mov'd the wooden world,
And stretch'd along the main.

The scaly natives of the deep

Press to admire the vast machine,

In sporting gambols round it leap,
Or swimming low, due distance keep,
In homage to their queen.

Thus, as life glides in gentle gale,

Pretended friendship waits on pow'r,
But early quits the borrow'd veil
When adverse Fortune shifts the sail,
And hastens to devour.

In vain we fly approaching ill,
Danger can multiply its form;
Expos'd we fly like Jonas still,
And heaven, when 'tis heaven's will,
O'ertakes us in a storm.

The distant surges foamy white

Foretell the furious blast;

Dreadful, though distant was the sight,
Confed'rate winds and waves unite,

And menace every mast.

Winds whistling through the shrouds proclaim.

A fatal harvest on the deck;

Quick in pursuit as active flame,
Too soon the rolling ruin came,
And ratify'd the wreck.

Thus Adam smil'd with new-born grace,

Life's flame inspir'd by heav'nly breath:

Thus the same breath sweeps off his race,
Disorders Nature's beauteous face,

And spreads disease and death.