TO A YOUNG LADY, WITH A POEM ON THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. MUCH on my early youth I love to dwell, Aye as the star of evening flung its beam Mourned with the breeze, O Lee Boo!* o'er thy tomb. Thus to sad sympathies I soothed my breast, Fierce on her front the blasting Dog-star glowed; *Lee Boo, the son of Abba Thule, Prince of the Pelew Islands, came over to England with Captain Wilson, died of the small-pox, and is buried in Rotherhithe church-yard. See Keate's Account. † Southey's Retrospect. Then Exultation waked the patriot fire Fallen is the oppressor, friendless, ghastly, low, If these demand the impassioned Poet's care- September 1792. IMITATED FROM OSSIAN. THE stream with languid murmur creeps, In Lumin's flowery vale: Beneath the dew the Lily weeps Slow-waving to the gale. "Cease, restless gale!" it seems to say, "To-morrow shall the Traveller come With eager gaze and wetted cheek Thus, faithful Maiden! thou shalt seek But I along the breeze shall roll The voice of feeble power; And dwell, the Moon-beam of thy soul, In Slumber's nightly hour. 1794. THE COMPLAINT OF NINATHOMA. How long will ye round me be swelling, Through the high-sounding halls of Cathlóma And they blessed the white-bosomed Maid! A Ghost! by my cavern it darted! When they visit the dreams of my rest! But disturbed by the tempest's commotion Ah TO A YOUNG ASS. ITS MOTHER BEING TETHERED NEAR IT. POOR little Foal of an oppressed Race! Meek Child of Misery! thy future fate? The starving meal, and all the thousand aches Chained to a Log within a narrow spot, Where the close-eaten Grass is scarcely seen, How askingly its footsteps hither bend, |