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AT ST. JAMES's
ON THE FOURTH OF JUNE, 1776, BY HIS MAJESTY'S BAND OF MUSICIANS.
BY WILLIAM WHITEHEAD, ESQ.
[ POET LAUREAT. ]
Ye western gales, whose genial breath
One verdant livery weårs;
And dry the morning's tears.
This is your season, lovely gales,
Why, therefore, in
dubious sky, With out-spread wing, and eager eye
On distant scenes intent, Vol. XVII.
“ Sits Expectation in the air."Why do alternate hope and fear
Suspend some great event?
Can Britain fail ?-the thought were vain ; The powerful empress of the main But strives to smooth th' unruly flood, * And dreads a conquest stain'd with blood.
While yet, ye winds, your breezy balm Thro’ nature spreads a general calm, While yet a pause fell Discord knows; Catch th' soft moment of repose,
Your genuine powers exert; To pity melt th' obdurate mind, Teach ev'ry bosom to be kind,
And humanize the heart!
Propitious gales, O wing your way!
Whence temper'd Freedom springs;
native climes Bring peace upon your wings!
NAVAL OFFICERS OF GREAT BRITAIN.
WRITTEN IMMEDIATELY AFTER THE TRIAL OF ADMIRAL
KEPPEL, FEBRUARY THE ELEVENTH, 1779.
BY WILLIAM MASON, M. A.
Hence to thy Hell! thou fiend accurst,
Of sin's incestuous brood the worst, Whom to pale Death the spectre bore :
Detraction hence! 'tis Truth's command, . She launches, from her seraph hand, The shaft that strikes thee to. th’ infernal shore.
Old ENGLAND's Genius leads her on
To vindicate his darling son, Whose fair, and veteran fame
Thy venom’d tongue had dar'd defile;
The Goddess comes, and all the isle
But chief in those, their country's pride,
Ordain'd, with steady helm, to guide . The floating bulwarks of her reign,
It glows, with unremitting ray,
Bright as the orb that gives the day. Corruption spreads her murky mist in vain :
To Virtue, Valour, Glory true,
Ambitious sterling aim;
Bestow'd by Kings on slaves of Kings,
Hireling courtiers, venal peers, ,
View them with fastidious frown;
Theirs her amaranthine crown.
She sees the genuine English spirit shine,
Lo! at your Poet's call,
A giant deity ascends;
He wields the trident of th’ Atlantic vast;
An awful calm around his pomp is cast, O'er many a league the glassy sleep extends. He speaks; and distant thunder, murmuring round, In long-drawn volley rolls a symphony profound.
" Ye thunders cease! the voice of Heav'n
“ To me the Spirit of the deep;
“ Tempests are mine ; from shore to shore,
“ I bid my billows when to roar, “ Mine the wild whirlwind's desolating sweep.
" But meek and placable, I come
“ To deprecate Britannia's doom, 6. And snatch her from her fate;
« Ev’n from herself I mean to save
“ My sister sov’reign of the wave ; 66 A voice immortal never warns too late.
“ Queen of the isles! with empire crown'd,
“ Only to spread fair Freedom round, 66 Wide as my waves could waft thy name;
“ Why did thy cold reluctant heart
" Refuse that blessing to impart, " Deaf to great Nature's universal claim ?
“ Why rush, through my indignant tide,
Ah, answer not the strain !
“ Thy half-repentant embassys “ Bespeak thy cause unblest, thy councils vain.
“ Sister, sov'reign of the wave!
“ Turn from this ill-omen'd war;“ Turn to where the truly brave
“ Will not blush thy wrath to bear :