And in the beauty of its strength it stood
And flourish'd, when his perishable part
Had moulder'd dust to dust. That stately oak
Itself hath moulder'd now, but Sidney's fame
Lives and shall live, immortalized in song.


Written on the SEA-SHORE, in 1792.

As o'er the sands the youthful Cinthio stray'd,
Moist from the wave, he saw a pebble shine;
And with its borrow'd lustre charm'd, he said,
“ Henceforth this sparkling treasure shall be mine."

But when his hand had dried the glist'ning prey,
Surpriz'd he found the pebble beam'd no more;
And then, resolv'd to throw the cheat away,
He frowning, whirl'd it to its native shore.

Suppress thy rage sweet boy ! and on thy heart
Let this mischance a moral truth impress :
To blunt the power of disappointment's dart,
And make the dangerous sway of fancy, less.

As o'er the pebble's form the waves had shed
In silver dew attraction's smiling power,
So Fancy's hand delights in youth to spread
Delusive colours on the future hour,

Moist from her pencil, tempting scenes arise ;
On common life, Romances tints she lays,
'Till cold Reality her hand applies
And at the touch each flatter'd form decays.

Ah dearest boy! warn'd by experience, now
The pebble's form shall tempt thine eye no more ;
Would that my verse my Cinthio! could bestow,
A shield to guard thee against Fancy's power.



While Henry V.lay at the siege of Dreux, an honest Hermir unknown to him, came and told him the great evils he brought on Christendom by his unjust ambition, who usurped the kingdom of France, against all manner of right, and Contrary to the will of God; wherefore in his holy name he threatened him with a severe and sudden punishment, if he desisted not from his enterprize. Henry took this exhortation either as an idle whimsey, or a suggestion of the Dauphin's, and was but the more confirmed in his design. But the blow soon followed the threatening; for within some few months after, he was smitten with a strange and incurable disease.


He past unquestioned thro' the camp,

Their heads the soldiers bent
In silent reverence, or begg'd

A blessing as he went ;
And so the Hermit past along

And reach'd the royal tent.

King Henry sate in his tent' alone
The map

before him lay,
Fresh conquests he was planning there

To grace the future day.

King Henry lifted up his eyes

The intruder to behold,
With reverence he the hermit saw,

For he was very old,
His look was gentle as a Saint's


eye was bold.

Repent thee, Henry, of the wrongs

That thou hast done this land, O King repent in time, for know

The judgement is at hand.

I have past forty years of peace

Beside the river Blaise,
But what a weight of woe hast thou

Laid on my latter days.

I used to see along the stream

The white sail sailing down, That wafted food in better times

To yonder peaceful town.

Henry! I never now behold

The white sail sailing down ; Famine, Disease, and Death and Thou

Destroy that wretched town.

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