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ODE,

On the Thanksgiving for the Victory of the Nile. Parti an Imitation of Jam satis Terris.

HJR. ,

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Enough hath impious Gallic rage
With direful threats alarm’d the age ;
And taught a guilty world to fear
Some prodigy in nature near;
Some change to those barbaric times

When Gothic ignorance and crimes,
Again shou'd banish, in one ruin hurld,
Peace and all social blessings from the world.

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Enough have Atheists in their pride
The God of all the earth defied:
Robb'd by the sacrilegious hand
We saw his temples naked stand;
And as Religion died away,

Beheld Humanity decay,
And worse than brutal fury overwhelm,
And drench with blood of mąssacres the realm

III.

We saw with wild gigantic stride
Their terrors spreading far and wide;
Safe landed upon Egypt's coast,
We saw the desolating host,
For Indus—long a destin'd prey

To death and rapine speed their way;
Whilst in extremes upon the western food
Aghast with horror pale Hibernia stood.

IV.

What

power shall bring them back to peace,
And still this raging of the scas ?
Thine, thou Almighty gracious Lord !
By grateful Britoris still ador'd!
To thee the willing vow we pay,

To thee for help in need we pray;
Nor fear, protected by thy shield and bow,
What France in all her pride and wrath can do.

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Ordain'd by thy supreme deeree
To rule the empire of the sea,
If Albion be the favor'd land
The delegate of thy command
To tell the rash invading foe

Thus far nor further shalt thoti go:
To thee alone the grateful voice we raise
To thee alone we give the thanks and praise.

O 4

VI.

Only the good are truly brave
Whilst the proud atheist scorns to crave
Thy aid-or owns the battle won
But by his sword and spear alone ;
Britannia's * pious sons to thee

Their God ascribe the victory:
Such thine own heroes to their country given !
Oh, late demand them in the realms of Heaven,

HORACE, BOOK I, ODE 38, IMITATED.

« Persicos odi puer apparatus.".

The splendid table's shew I hate,
With glittering load of costly plate !
I care not what my dish's weight;

Nor if of clay or gold.
I only ask a sparkling glass ;
An arbour's fragrant shade to pass
My listless hours; upon the

grass
In easy comfort rolld,

X. Y.

• See the beginning of Admiral Nelson's Letter to the Admin raltymco It hath pleased Almighty God,” &c.

TRANSLATION OF THE 9th ODE OF

ANACREON.

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FAITHFUL Messenger of love,
Tell me, tell me, gentle dove
Whither thro' the lucid air,
Thee thy snowy pinions bear,
Scattering odours as they play
Along the azure vault of day?
Tell me, tell me, gentle dove,
What thy errand ? is it love ?
" From Anacreon to his fair,
I a tender message bear.
To his fair whose charms enslave
Buth the timid and the brave.
To Anacreon I belong;
Venus sold me for a song.
This the letter which I bring,
The poet fasten’d to my wing.
Me at my return awaits
Liberty and all its sweets :
Sweets disdaind and empty joys !
Liberty I do not prize.
With Anacreon I'll remain ;
His no hard or cruel chain!
Thro' the damp and chilly sky
Why should I desire to fly,
Why should I a tender dove
Q'er bleak hills delight to rove,

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Or in the covert of a wood
Pick my scant and homely food ?
Now I'nı by Anacreon fed ;
From his hand I snatch his bread;
Or the wine I gayly sip
Which has touch'd Anacreon's lip;
Then my dewy wings I throw
O'er his myrtle shaded brow,
Or by the generous draught inspir'd
Play and frolic till I'm tird:
And when the fumes of wine expire
Sink to sleep upon his lyre.
Stranger thou hast heard my tale,
Courteous stranger, now farewel,
Quick must I pursue my way,

For I have prated like a jay.
CAMBRIDGE, Oct. 9.

ON BETSY WEEPING,

See! Betsy is weeping! how lovely, in grief

The kind hearted angel appears !
Her bosom oppress'd finds a grateful relief

In a plentiful shower of tears.
Yet her eyes, tho' half veil'd in the quivering dew,

Never look'd more enchantingly bright. Thus the violet boasts a more beautiful hue

When it shines thro' the tears of the night,

HORATIO.

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