« AnteriorContinuar »
Written on the breaking out of the War between Austria
Thrice-foild, once more, 0 Austria! to the plain
Thou lead'st, in arms, thy renovated powers ;
And, though through clouds the doubtful Future lours, Brav'st toil and danger with a high disdain. The nations round, a fallen and trembling train,
Wait anxiously, while Fear each heart devours,
For the dread conflict of the coming hours Shall break, or rivet, Europe's galling chain. String every nerve, bid all thy courage rise;
No common ardour must thy soul inflame:
No midway path between disgrace and fame;
R. A. DAVENPORT.
On the Fall of Saragossa,
Proud conqueror ! though o'er the ruin'd wall,
Of Saragossa thy red banners wave,
Have rush'd to find an hunourable grave;
Yet thou, accurs’d Ambition's restless slave, Check thy mean triumph o’er their glorious fall! How poor and dim thy diadems, Gaul! To those bright palms that shade the slaughter'd
brave. History their patriot valour shall record;
And Freedom, bending o'er their sacred tomb, With grateful tears their noble toils reward:
While thou, descending to the infernal gloom,
To meet the tyrants and the murderer's doom, Shalt leave a name by earth and heaven abhorr'd!. 1809.
R. A. D.
Detested land! such deep and deadly hate
As once to Rome the Punic hero swore
Over thy pale and trembling plains to pour
In dust forever all thy vaunting pride, Impetuous to the glorious task I'd rush,
Terror, Despair, Destruction, by my side!
Foe to the realm that rules the subject waves;
R. A. D.
Pulteney, the fourth young Spring now clothes the
my rude muse with laureate wreaths essay'd To deck the sacred spot, where he is laid Who form’d my genius, and who gave me birth ; Yet o'er my gayest hours of social mirth
Oft still his absence casts a saddening shade:
Oft still to him my secret tears are paid While memory fondly dwells upon
his worth. Hence mindful, who most shar'd his grateful love
By many an act of generous kindness won,
To F. N. C. Mundy, Esq. Author of " Needwood Forest."
BY SIR BROOKE BOOTH BY.
MUNDY, whose song hath taught the forest swain
To view fair NEEDWOOD thro’ the radiauce clear
Of bright imagination, taught the tear
How was thy pipe melodious wont to cheer
The wintry groves, when every leaf was sere, And brighten summer with its artful strain! Say by what meed shall Needwood court thy stay?
She unsuspecting twines in amorous care Her favourite holly and her flower bells-gay,
To deck with modest hand her lover's hair, Ah, do not thou her gentle hopes betray,
And doom her tender bosom to despair!