By all the chiefs in Freedom's battles lost; That, swiftly whirling through the walks of war, Dash'd Roman blood, and crush'd the foreign throngs; By holy Druids' courage-breathing songs; By fierce BONDUCA's shield, and foaming steeds; By the bold peers that met on Thames's meads; By the fifth HENRY's helm, and lightning spear; O LIBERTY, my warm petition hear; Be ALBION Still thy joy! with her remain, Long as the surge shall lash her oak-crown'd plain! ΤΟ THE EDEN, A RIVER IN WESTMORELAND. BY J. LANGHORNE, D. D. DELIGHTFUL Eden! parent stream, My young steps trac'd thy winding way; How oft along thy mazy shore, Where slowly wav'd the willows hoar, In pensive thought their poet stray'd; Or, dozing near thy meadow'd side, Beheld thy dimply waters glide, Bright through the trembling shade. Yet shall they paint those scenes again, Where once with infant-joy he play'd, And bending o'er thy liquid plain, The azure worlds below survey'd : Led by the rosy-handed Hours, When Time tript o'er that bank of flowers, Which in thy crystal bosom smil'd; The poplar tall, that waving near Burnish their green locks in the sun; But, Fancy, can thy mimic power Again those happy moments bring? Canst thou restore that golden hour, When young Joy wav'd his laughing wing? When first in Eden's rosy vale, My full heart pour'd the lover's tale, O Goddess of the crystal brow, That dwell'st the golden meads among; Whose streams still fair in memory flow, Whose murmurs melodize my song! Ol yet those gleams of joy display, In vain—the maids of Memʼry fair And in thy breast this moral find; That life, though stain'd with sorrow's showers, Shall flow serene, while Virtue pours Her sunshine on the mind. TO A WATER-NYMPH. BY THE REV. WILLIAM MASON, M. A. YE green-hair'd Nymphs ! whom PAN allows To speed the shooting scions into boughs, Whither, ah! whither art thou fled? Can see thy drooping head, thy with'ring bloom, And give yon azure veil to flow Ah! let her, plaintive, pour the tend'rest strain, |