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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.

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 !)

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“ In each widely scatter'd realm; “ Where Carpathian mountains join,

“ Grasp the buckler, sword, and helm.

6 Where the Vistula’s proud wave,

66 Rolls her billows to the main,

6 Rouse the torpid, urge the brave,

“ Fill with chivalry the plain.”

BALLAD UPON POLAND.

197

“ Justice shall strike home at last,

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

6 Trust to Heaven's unerring power.

6 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,

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“ 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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