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LINES WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM
OF MISS PATTY MORE's, SISTER OF HANNAH MORE.
In vain to live from age to age
While modern bards endeavour,
W. CO WPER. March 6, 1792.
SONNET TO WILLIAM WILBERFORCE, ESQ.
The country, Wilberforce, with just disdain,
Hears thee by cruel men and impious call’d
Fanatic, for thy zeal to loose the inthrall’d From exile, public sale, and slavery's chain.
Friend of the poor, the wrong'd, the fetter-gall’d, Fear not lest labour such as thine be vain.
Thou hast achieved a part; hast gain'd the ear Of Britain's senate to thy glorious cause; (pause Hope smiles, joy springs, and, though cold caution
And weave delay, the better hour is near
That shall remunerate thy toils severe
Enjoy what thou hast won, esteem and love
THE JUDGMENT OF THE POETS.
Two nymphs, both nearly of an age,
Of numerous charms possessid,
Whose temper was the best.
Had both alike been mild:
Frown'd oftener than she smiled. And in her humour, when she frown'd,
Would raise her voice, and roar, And shake with fury to the ground
The garland that she wore.
From all such frenzy clear,
And never proved severe.
The nymphs referr'd the cause, Who, strange to tell, all judg'd it wrong,
And gave misplaced applause. They gentle call’d, and kind and soft,
: The Aippant and the scold, And though she changed her mood so oft,
That failing left untold.
No judges, sure, were e'er so mad,
Or so resolved to err-
They lavish'd all on her.
Their great inspirer call,
To reprimand them all.
“My favourite nymph to slight,
With June's undoubted right,
Still prove herself a shrew,
And pinch your noses blue.”
Survivor sole, and hardly such, of all
* This tree had been known by the name of Judith for many ages. Perbaps it received that name on being planted by the Countess Judith, niece to the Conqueror, whom he gave in marriage to the English Earl Waltheof, with the counties of Northampton and Huntingdon as her dower.Vide Letters, vol. iv. p. 78.
(Since which I number threescore winters past,)
It seems idolatry with some excuse,
Thou wast a bauble once, a cup and ball
So fancy dreams. Disprove it, if ye can,!!!! Ye reasoners broad awake, whose busy search ! Of argument, employ'd too oft amiss; ? ;13!! Sifts half the pleasures of short life away! sost?
Thou fell'st mature; and, in the loamy clod
By thee I might correct, erroneous oft,
woods; And time hath made thee what thou art--a cave .. For owls to roost in. Once thy spreading boughs!? O’erhung the champaign ; and the numerous flocks That grazed it stood beneath that ample cope , " Uncrowded, yet safe shelter'd from the storm. . No flock frequents thee now. Thou hast outlived Thy popularity, and art become (Unless verse rescue thee awhile) a thing . Forgotten, as the foliage of thy youth. ..
While thus through all the stages thou hast push'd