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Such was thy glorious plan!
The minister and man.
Be Britain's weal your view!
THE DEATH OF PRINCE LEOPOLD, SON OF THE DUKE OF MECKLENBURGH SCHWERIN,
WHO WAS DROWNED IN THE RIVER ODER, DURING
With human sacrifice impure ;
Shall long-prescriptive right secure :
The formal summons disobey; This envied meed from distant lands The name of Leopold commands,
And every friend of man shall pay.
Lamented youth! I never trod
Whose latest sons shall weep thy doom ;
Hath crush'd in manhood's opening bloom,
With amaranthine splendour crown’d,
On snowy pinions hover round.
Shall still to man extend thy care;
ON SEEING A NEGRO FUNERAL.
MAHALI dies! o'er yonder plain
By youthful virgins led :
Why triumph o'er the dead ? No tear bedews their fixed eye: 'Tis now the hero lives, they cry
Released from slavery's chain, Beyond the billowy surge he flies, And joyful views his native skies
And long-lost bowers again..
On Koromantyn's palmy soil,
Shall fill each glorious day;
Past cruel wrongs repay.
Nor lordly pride's stern avarice there
To all her children free,
The' anana bloom for thee.
The thunder, hark! 'Tis Afric's God;
And speeds the impatient hours:
And vengeance yet is ours !
Go roam the’ affrighted wood ;-
And glut their rage for blood !
But soft,beneath yon tamarind shade,
Sweet slumbers bless the brave: There shall the breezes shed perfume, Nor livid lightnings blast the bloom That decks, Mahali's grave.
Nymph of the ceaseless smile,
Thine is no angel face, O treacherous Hope, who flatterest to beguile. Thou wert, indeed, fair spirit, born in heaven;
But from the realm of bliss
Thy faithless form was driven With those who plunged into the deep abyss. So still thy dazzling lineaments display
The hue of heavenly birth;
And mortals own thy sway, Deem'd the good angel of the sons of earth. Thou, when the traveller of the moonless night
Gropes o'er the moor his way,
Showest the watery light That tempts the wretched wanderer far astray. The dear illusion makes his heart rejoice,
He hastens wildly on
And now he lifts his voiceAnd louder now-and now the light is gone. Thou hearest him as to the water side
A wretched man he moves,
And when beneath the tide, Groaning, he sinks, remembering all he loves.
And when the mountainous ocean swells and raves,
When the ship sinks beneath,
Thou makest on the waves
He gazes round and round,
And thinks he can descry
When mid the waters cast,
Despair had fill'd his breast, Soon had he perish’d, and the pang been past. Fool! he who trusts thee in the evil hour,
Thou parasite of grief,
Whose false and boasting power Can only promise, never bring relief.
TO THE RIVER TEIGN.
Ou Thou! the guardian of each floweret pale
That decks thy lonely brim; whether thy car,
Hoarse murmuring from afar, Foams down the dark and solitary vale; Or through yon meads thy peaceful current roves,
Where, mid the pendent umbrage pleased to
Thou shunn'st the noontide ray (stray, Which gilds the' encircling majesty of groves ; Hail, holy sire! whilst keen remorse corrodes,
Sicken'd with pleasure's pangs, this aching
Thy freshening streams impart, [heart, And take, oh, take me to thy bless'd abodes !