TO A LADY

View "cap-a-pie" in hostile trench,
Of brother-bards the awful bench;

Detraction's potent dart they wield,
Fastidious prejudice, their shield.

And should some son of doggrel verse,

(Worthy to fill the sable hearse ;)

In dark malignity defame,

Some patriot, or heroic name.

Who spreads the blush o'er Beauty's cheek,

Thro' mean revenge, or jealous pique;

Who ev'ry foible loves to trace,

Of mind-or figure,-birth and race.

When his vile stanzas meet the eye,

(That truth and taste alike defy ;)

On each unlucky child of rhyme,

Some prating coxcomb stamps the crime.

Rest then, sweet Girl! within your cot,

Contented with that happy lot;

Each soft attraction ever blend,

And shine the daughter as the friend.

VOL. II.

193

194

SONNET TO A LADY.

Remain as ever, kind and fair,
Unmov'd by envy as by care;

The only change let Hymen make,

If e'er that home, you can forsake.

BALLAD UPON POLAND.

"When rooted from the base, heroic states
"Mourn in the dust, and tremble at the frown
"Of curst ambition;-thine extended arm,

"In fancy hurls the thunderbolt of Jove,
"To fire th' impious wreath on Philip's brow,
"Or dash Octavius from the trophied car."

Akenside.

MARK the foreign scepter'd train,
Led by Flatt'ry's honied voice;

Ever fickle, false, and vain,

Worn-out bigotry their choice.

Still aspiring to appear,

In Napoleon's warlike show; (They to wield Achilles' spear! They to bend Ulysses' bow!)

Bold and manly, void of crime,

From their old romantic hall;

"Wafted on the wings of time,"

Hear your former chieftains call:

"Hardy Palatines, combine!

"In each widely scatter'd realm;

"Where Carpathian mountains join,

"Grasp the buckler, sword, and helm.

"Where the Vistula's proud wave,

"Rolls her billows to the main,

"Rouse the torpid, urge the brave,

"Fill with chivalry the plain."

BALLAD UPON POLAND.

"Justice shall strike home at last,

"In your vile oppressor's bower, "For the wrongs and insults past,

"Trust to Heaven's unerring power.

"Can their gay and splendid courts, "To the owners joy impart?

"Can the pomp, your toil supports, "Calm reflection's midnight dart?

"When the Muscovite assails,

"Like heroic Tell aspire; "When the Northern Eagle quails, "Let your woes each bosom fire,

"Shew th' admiring nations round,

"Polish courage is not dead:

"Shew on Sobieski's ground,

"How the Moslems from you fled.

"Then shall Freedom's heav'nly beam,

"Shed her genial warmth afar,

"O'er Crimea's desert gleam,

"Pierce the moated dungeon's bar.

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