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The bulwark of a British breast?

The steady fires that flash around,
And yon deep groan's expiring sound,
Its genuine fortitude attest.

Behold th' intrepid column charge the foe!
Hark the harsh closure of the strident steel!
Exanimate they fly the furious blow;

Before its ruthless shock their forces reel; "Till from thick mists emerging to the sight, Gigantic Slaughter glares, then faints amid the fight.

O thou for whom the song I raise,
Ambitious to bestow my praise!

What ardours warm'd thy vet'ran-frame,
Though pierc'd with many a wound severe,
When, cloth'd in wide-consuming flame,
Thy little wond'rous band pursued

The gallic vultures by their track of blood,
And thunder'd desolation on their rear !

Then far was every selfish thought
Of life with loss of honour bought;
Then every tie that holds the heart,
For ever doom'd from home to part,
Was lost to thy collected breast,
By patriot-zeal alone possest.

Caution, determinately cool,

Maintain'd her calm unalter'd rule,

And taught the conflict where to rage;
While bright Victoria, hov'ring nigh,

Her keen glance fix'd upon thy bleeding thigh,
Scarce more admir'd the soldier than the sage.

Though now, ev'n now, illustrious shade,
Yet recent from the memorable fray,
In blissful bow'rs, unconscious of decay,
Thy wearied limbs at length are laid;
And thronging round, an airy swarm,
Heroic spectres eye thy form;

Proud names, of history the splendid boast,
Solicitous who shall applaud thee most;
Oh! see the gallant youth thy genius led
O'er Flandria's well disputed plain,
See princely Frederick droop the head
With all a pupil's tender pain;

Oh! yet, great soul, deliberately wise,
Temper his daring heat, and fit him for the skies.

Meanwhile, each meed thy country can bestow,
Dissolv'd in universal woe,

Shall flourish o'er thy sacred dust;

The pile sepulchral, and the votive bust:

But most a pious monarch's grateful tear
Proclaim thy fortunate rememb'rance dear,
Dear to himself and to his people too;
For ev'ry pompous rite of rev'rence past,
That tribute to long faithful service due,
In other chiefs thy virtue shall renew,
And still in emulous succession last.

So the poetic branch, renown'd of old For glitt'ring leaves, and balls of blooming gold, Though torn, appear'd before the Trojan's cycs Still fresh with shining foliage to arise ;* Unchang'd the value of its precious frame, Its radiant hue unchang'd, another and the same.

• Uno avulso non deficit alter. VIRGIL.

THE BROWN BEAUTY.

WHILE flushing o'er thy olive cheek,
Like the morning's dubious break,
Virgin shame delights to spread
Her roses of a deeper red;

And those ruddy lips of thine

Emulate the bleeding vine ;

Think'st thou Celia's languid white
Can allure my roving sight,
Or my bosom catch a glow
From that chilling form of snow?
In those orbs, O nymph divine!
Stars may well be said to shine,
Stars whose pointed rays are made
More brilliant by surrounding shade;
Shade thy raven-locks supply
To relieve my dazzled eye.

Trust me, thy transcendant face

Takes from its brown a mellower grace;

A ripe autumnal bloom benign, Whence all the Loves exulting shine; As jet emits a glossy light,

From its polish'd surface bright.

EPIGRAMS.

THE PRETTY VIXEN.

WHEN foam'd the dashing waves, and winds were

high,

From ocean surely, Venus-like, you sprung;

For I can bear the lightning of your eye,
But who can bear the thunder of your tongue?

ANOTHER, TO THE SAME.

WITH angel face, and faultless form,
How strange that you're not to my liking!
Yet, when you cuff your spouse, and storm,
I own your beauty castly striking.

AN IMITATION OF MARTIAL.

My patron lives next street; but, for assistance, We might as well live fourscore miles at distance.

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