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And shrub of fragrant leaf, that clothes their sides
With living verdure; whence the clustering bee
And sweet-leaved myrtle, aromatic thyme,
The prickly juniper, and the green leaf
Which feeds the spinning worm; while glowing
Beneath the various foliage, wildly spreads
The arbutus, and rears his scarlet fruit
Luxuriant, mantling o'er the craggy steeps ;
And thy own native laurel crowns the scene. Hail, generous Corsica! unconquer'd isle !
Hail to thy savage forests, awful, deep; The fort of freedom; that amidst the waves
Thy tangled thickets, and thy crowded woods, Stands like a rock of adamant, and dares
The haunt of herds untamed; which sullen bound The wildest sury of the beating storm.
From rock to rock with fierce unsocial air, And are there yet, in this late sickly age,
And wilder gaze, as conscious of the power Unkindly to the towering growths of virtue,
That loves to reign amid the lonely scenes Such bold exalted spirits ? Men whose deeds,
Of unquellid nature : precipices huge, To the bright annals of old Greece opposed,
And tumbling torrents ; trackless deserts, plains Would throw in shades her yet unrivallid name,
Fenced in with guardian rocks, whose quarries And dim the lustre of her fairest page! And glows the flame of Liberty so strong
With shining steel, that to the cultured fields In this lone speck of earth! this spot obscure,
And sunny hills which wave with bearded grain, Shaggy with woods, and crusted o'er with rock,
Defends their homely produce. Liberty, By slaves surrounded, and by slaves oppress'd!
The mountain goddess, loves to range at large What then should Britons feel ?—should they not Amid such scenes, and on the iron soil catch
Prints her majestic step. For these she scorns The warm contagion of heroic ardour,
The green enamell’d vales, the velvet lap And kindle at a fire so like their own?
Of smooth savannahs, where the pillow'd head Such were the working thoughts which swell's Of luxury reposes ; balmy gales, the breast
And bowers that breathe of bliss. For these. of generous Boswell; when with nobler aim
when first And views beyond the narrow beaten track This isle emerging like a beauteous gem By trivial fancy trod, he turn’d his course
From the dark bosom of the Tyrrhene main, From polish'd Gallia's soft delicious vales, Rear'd its fair front, she mark'd it for her own, From the gray relics of imperial Rome,
And with her spirit warm’d. Her genuine sons, From her long galleries of laurelld stone, A broken remnant, from the generous stock Her chisellid heroes and her marble gods,
Of ancient Greece, from Sparta's sad remains, Whose dumb majestic pomp yet awes the world, True to their high descent, preserved unquench'd To animated forms of patriot zeal;
The sacred fire through many a barbarous age : Warm in the living majesty of virtue ;
Whom, nor the iron rod of cruel Carthage,
Could crush into subjection. Still unquell'd
And claim'd man's dearest birthright, liberty : Stain'd with the blood of heroes. Cyrnus, hail! And long, through many a hard unequal strife, Hail to thy rocky, deep indented shores,
Maintain'd the glorious conflict; long withstoud, And pointed clifts, which hear the chafing deep With single arm, the whole collected force Incessant foaming round thy shaggy sides. Or haughty Genoa, and ambitious Gan). Hail to thy winding bays, thy sheltering ports, And shall withstand it-Trust the faithful muse' And ample harbours, which inviting stretch It is not in the force of mortal arm, Their hospitable arms to every sail :
Scarcely in fate, to bind the struggling soul Thy numerous streams, that bursting from the That gall’d by wanton power, indignant swells cliffs
Against oppression ; breathing great revenge, Down the steep channell’d rock impetuous pour Careless of life, determined to be free. With grateful murmur: on the fearful edge And favouring Heaven approves : for see the or the rude precipice, thy hamlets brown And straw-roof'd cots, which from the level vale Born to exalt his own, and give mankind Scarce seen, amongst the craggy hanging cliffs A glimpse of higher natures : just, as great; Seem like an eagle's nest aërial built.
The soul of council, and the nerve of war, Thy swelling mountains, brown with solemn Of high unshaken spirit, temper'd sweet shade
With soft urbanity, and polish'd grace, of various trees, that wave their giant arms And attic wit, and gay unstudied smiles : O'er the rough sons of freedom; lofty pines, Whom Heaven in some propitious hour endow'd And hardy fir, and ilex ever green,
With every purer virtue : gave him all And spreading chestnut, with each humbler plant, | That lifts the hero, or adorns the man.
Gave him the eye sublime; the searching glance, To after-ages, and applauding worlds
So vainly wish'd, so fondly hoped the muse :
Too fondly hoped. The iron fates prevail, High wrought, and breathed into his swelling And Cyrus is no more. Her generous sons, The large ambitious wish to save his country.
Less vanquish'd than o'erwhelm'd, by numbers
crush'd, O beauteous title to immortal fame! The man devoted to the public, stands
Admired, unaided fell. So strives the moon In the bright records of superior worth,
In dubious battle with the gathering clouds, A step below the skies : if he succeed,
And strikes a splendour through them; till at The first fair lot which earth affords, is his ;
length And if he falls, he falls above a throne.
Storms rolled on storms involve the face of heaven When such their leader, can the brave despair ?
And quench her struggling fires. Forgive the zeal Freedom the cause, and Paoli the chief!
That, too presumptuous, whisper'd better things, Success to your fair hopes? A British muse,
And read the book of destiny amiss. Though weak and powerless, lifts her fervent Not with the purple colouring of success voice,
Is virtue best adorn'd: th' attempt is praise. And breathes a prayer for your success. O could
There yet remains a freedom, nobler far She scatter blessings as the morn sheds dows,
Than kings or senates can destroy or give ; To drop upon your heads! But patient hope
Beyond the proud oppressor's cruel grasp Must wait th' appointed hour; secure of this,
Seated secure, uninjured, undestroy'd ;
Worthy of gods :—the freedom of the mind.
THE MOUSE'S PETITION.
O HEAR a pensive prisoner's prayer,
For liberty that sighs : Dilates with kindling majesty ; her mien
And never let thine heart be shut
Against the wretch's cries !
For here forlorn and sad I si:
Within the wiry grate ; Her golden harvest ; fruits of nobler growth
And tremble at th' approaching morn,
Which brings impending fate.
If e'er thy breast with freedom glow'd,
And spurn'd a tyrant's chain, That feed and ripen minds; 'tis toil and danger;
Let not thy strong oppressive force
A free-born mouse detain !
O do not stain with guiltless blood
Thy hospitable hearth ; With strong repelling arm the billowy surge ;
Nor triumph that thy wiles betray'd The generous courser does not so exult
A prize so little worth. To toss his floating mane against the wind,
The scatter'd gleanings of a feast And neigh amidst the thunder of the war,
My frugal meals supply ; As Virtue to oppose her swelling breast
But if thine unrelenting heart Like a firm shield against the darts of fate.
That slender boon deny, And when her sons in that rough school have leara'd
The cheerful light, the vital air, To smile at danger, then the hand that raised,
Are blessings widely given; Shall hush the storm, and lead the shining train Let Nature's commoners enjoy of peaceful years in bright procession on.
The common gifts of heaven.
To all compassion gives;
Casts round the world an equal eye
And feels for all that lives.
.Found in the trap where he had been confined all Endeard to long posterity, some muse,
night by Dr. Priestley, for the sake of thaking expert. More worthy of the theme, shall consecrate ments with different kinds of air.
lf mind,-as ancient sages taught,
Happy old man who stretch'd beneath the shade A never-dying flame,
or large grown trees, or in the rustic porch Btill shifts through matter's varying forms, With woodbine canopied, where linger yet In every form the same;
The hospitable virtues, calm enjoy'st
Nature's best blessings all ;-a healthy age
Ruddy and vigorous, native cheerfulness,
Plain-hearted friendship, simple piety,
The rural manners and the rural joys
Friendly to life. O rude of speech, yet rich
In genuine worth, not unobserved shall pass Or, if this transient gleam of day
Thy bashful virtues! for the muse shall mark,
Detect thy charities, and call to light
Thy secret deeds of mercy; while the poor,
The desolate, and friendless, at thy gate,
A numerous family, with better praise
Shall hallow in their hearts ihy spotless name
Such were the dames of old heroic days,
Which faithful story yet delights to praise ;
Who, great in useful works, hung o'er the loom,
The mighty mothers of immortal Rome :
Obscure, in sober dignity retired,
They more deserved than sought to be admired;
Chaste their attire, their feet unused to roam,
They loved the sacred threshold of their home ,
Yet true to glory, fann'd the generous flame, O BORN to soothe distress and lighten care,
Bade lovers, brothers, sons aspire to fame; Lively as soft, and innocent as fair!
In the young bosom cherish'd Virtue's seed, Blest with that sweet simplicity of thought
The secret springs of many a godlike deed.
So the fair stream in some sequester'd glade So rarely found, and never to be taught; Of winning speech, endearing, artless, kind,
With lowly state glides silent through the shade, The loveliest pattern of a female mind;
Yet by the smiling meads her urn is blest, Like some fair spirit from the realms of rest,
With freshest flowers her rising banks are drest, With all her native heaven within her breast;
And groves of laurel by her sweetness fed,
High o'er the forest lift their verdant head.
Is there whom genius and whom taste adorn
With rare but happy union ; in whose breast Wealth may be courted, Wisdom be revered, And Beauty praised, and brutal Strength be fear’d; With stores of various knowledge, dwell the
Calm, philosophic, thoughtful, largely fraught But Goodness only can affection move,
powers And love must owe its origin to love
That trace out secret causes, and unveil
Of still domestic leisure breathe the soul
Of friendship, peace, and elegant delight
TIBUL. Beneath poetic shades, where leads the muse OF gentle manners, and of taste refined,
Through walks of fragance, and the fairy groves With all the graces of a polish'd mind;
Where young ideas blossom ?-Is there one
Whose tender hand, lenient of human woes, Clear sense and truth still shone in all she spoke,
Wards off the dart of death, and smooths the couch And from her lips no idle sentence broke.
Of torturing anguish? On so dear a name
May blessings dwell, honour and cordial praise ;
Nor heed he be a brother to be loved.
CHAMPION of Truth, alike through Nature's field, So subject all to reason's calm control,
And where in sacred leaves she shines reveal'd, One only passion, strong and unconfined,
Alike in both, eccentric, piercing, bold,
Like his own lightnings, which no chains can
hold ; One passion ruled despotic in her breast, But that was love; and love delights to bless
Neglecting caution, and disdaining art,
He seeks no armour for a naked heart :-
Pursue the track thy ardent genius shows,
Travel the various map of Science o'er,
A mass of heterogeneous matter,
A chaos dark, nor land nor water ;-
Waiting the printer's clothing hand ;-
Like Cadmus' half-form'd men appear; Which charm'd us once, for once those scenes One rears a helm, one lifts a spear, were ours!
And feet were lopp'd and fingers torn
Which quiet as a mushroom lay
“ But what is this," I hear you cry,
ON A LADY'S WRITING.
Her even lines her steady temper show, AN INVENTORY OF THE FURNITURE IN Neat as her dress, and polish'd as her brow; R. PRIESTLEY'S STUDY.
Strong as her judgment, easy as her air ;
Correct though free, and regular though fair: A MAP of every country known,
And the same graces o'er her pen preside, With not a foot of land his own.
That form her manners and her footsteps guide A list of folks that kick'd a dust On this poor globe, from Ptol. the First ; He hopes,-indeed it is but fair, Some day to get a corner there.
ON THE DESERTED VILLAGE. A group of all the British kings, Fair emblem! on a packthread swings.
In vain fair Auburn weeps her desert plains, The fathers, ranged in goodly row,
She moves our envy who so well complains ; A decent, venerable show,
In vain has proud oppression laid her low, Writ a great while ago, they tell us,
So sweet a garland on her faded brow. And many an inch o'ertop their fellows.
Now, Auburn, now absolve impartial fate, A Juvenal to hunt for mottoes ;
Which if it made thee wretched, makes thee great And Ovid's tales of nymphs and grottoes.
So, unobserved, some humble plant may bloom, The meek-robed lawyers, all in white;
Till crush'd it fills the air with sweet perfumo; Pure as the lamb,—at least to sight.
So, had thy swains in ease and plenty slept, A shelf of bottles, jar and phial,
Thy poet had not sung, nor Britain wept. By which the rogues he can defy all,
Nor let Britannia mourn her drooping bay, All fill'd with lightning keen and genuine,
Unhonour'd genius, and her swift decay ; And many a little imp he'll pen you in;
O patron of the poor! it cannot be, Which, like Le Sage's sprite, let out
While one-one poel yet remains like thee! Among the neighbours makes a rout;
Nor can the muse desert our favour'd isle, Brings down the lightning on their houses,
Till thou desert the muse and scorn her smile
HYMN TO CONTENT.
.....natura beatis Answer, remark, reply, rejoinder,
Omnibus esse dedit, si quis cognoverit uti.
CLAUDIAN. Fresh from the mint, all stamp'd and coin'd here ; Like new-made glass, set by to cool,
O ruou, the nymph with placid eye! Before it bears the workman's tool.
O seldom found, yet ever nigh! A blotted proof-sheet, wet from Bowling.
Receive my temperate vow: -"How can a man his anger hold in ?"
Not all the storms that shake the pole Forgotten rhymes, and college themes,
Can e'er disturb thy halcyon soul, 'Worm-eaten plans, and embryo schemes ;
And smooth unalter'd brow.
O come, in simple vest array'd,
To bless my longing sight;
And chaste subdued delight. No more by varying passions beat, O gently guide my pilgrim feet
To find thy hermit cell ; Where in some pure and equal sky, Beneath thy soft indulgent eye,
The modest virtues dwell.
Simplicity in Attic vest,
And clear undaunted eye ;
A vista to the sky.
There Health, through whose calm bosom glide
That rarely ebb or flow;
To meet the offer'd blow.
With settled smiles to meet :
And kiss'd thy sainted feet.
To tell thy tender tale ?
And lily of the vale.
And court thy gentle sway? When Autumn friendly to the muse, Shall thy own modest tints diffuse,
And shed thy milder day.
Or pierced some fond unguarded heart
The potent sounds like lightning dart
“Daughters of Jove, receive the child,"
Ah, luckless hour! mistaken maids,
When Eve, her dewy star beneath,
And every storm is laid ;-
Low whispering through the shade.
THE ORIGIN OF SONG-WRITING.
blic indocto primum se exercuit arcu; Hei mihi quam docms nunc habet ille manus !
WHEN Cupid, wanton boy! was young,
Addressed to the Author of Essays on Song.writing.