And doom'd, ere yet thy life began,
"A warning to presumptuous man,
"Thou dar'st my mystic realms invade!
"Hear, then-and shake with conscious dread.
"The potent, fix'd, irrevocable word,
"Th' eternal edict of Heaven's awful Lord.
"Vengeance, whose fury shall devour
"The proud blasphemer of his pow'r!
"To millions food and health I bring,
"The bounties of th' Eternal King;
"On thee, destruction I bestow,
"Disease, repentance, shame, and woe!
"See'st thou not in the lurid air,
"With'ring thy strength with fatal glare,
"Fell Pestilence, whose hot and tainted breath
"Shall heap thy groaning camp with loathsome!
"Where'er thy desperate march is bent,
"See the swift foe thy course prevent,
"Like lightning in the van appear,
"Or rush tempestuous on the rear.
"In crowds they rush, in crowds they die!
"New swarms th' enthusiast realms supply;
"Thy troops no more th' assault sustain,
"Vain is their skill, their courage vain ;
"Their fainting limbs refuse their arms to wield,
“And victors yet, they press the torrid field.
"Fly, then-Destruction meets thy view, "Wilt thou not fly though shame pursue? "Safe yet in port thy navy rides ; "A remnant yet may stem the tides; "Though dumb be every warrior's boast, "A remnant yet may reach the coast! "Ah, wretch! and impotent of mind! "Whom angry Heav'n has render'd blind! "Has ne'er the clear-voic'd trump of Fame
"Fill'd thine astonish'd ear with Britain's name?
Her sons--no Atheist crew are they, "No slaves to Superstition's sway,
"Before the awful throne of God
"They bow, and wait upon his nod;
"Blest if his power their arms employ,
"The proud and impious to destroy.
"Hark! what a peal of thunder roars!
"How vast a tumult shakes my shores!
"Pale Horror shrieks, Confusion, Rout, Dismay
"Appal the night, and dim the morning ray.
"How deep the anguish and despair!
"Who shall to France the tidings bear?
"Scarce one escapes the bloody fight!
"Scarce one is sav'd by shameful flight.
"To Heaven the pious victors raise,
"With grateful hearts, the shout of praise.
"Europe exulting, lifts her voice;
"The East's barbaric thrones rejoice."
To impious Pride, short triumph thus remains,
Unerring Wisdom sees; Eternal Justice reigns,
For the Grave of a Prostitute, written by Herself in her last Illness.
HE willing victim of a quick decay,
Here tranquil on an humble bed of clay,
(The sure and sole asylum of my woes)
A lost, love-ruin'd female, I repose.
Early seduc'd by men's perfidious snares,
Their crimes I expiate: would my pangs were theirs.
From the sad moment, when by oaths misled,
I fell, half forc'd, on my deceiver's bed,
To that, whose veil obscuring ev'ry fault,
Shelter'd my suff'rings in this welcome vault,
Pamper'd or starv'd, despairing or in drink,
My thoughts all rack'd in striving not to think;
Frantic or sullen-ever in extremes,
Wild and abandon'd in my very dreams;
Ne'er could rejected conscience claim the pow'r
T'impose a respite of one serious hour.
Of eye undaunted, and of touch impure;
Old, ere of age; worn out when scarce mature;
Hourly debas'd to stifle my disgust
Of forc'd enjoyment in affected lust;
Canker'd with filth, infection, debt and want;
My home a brothel, and the street my haunt;
Full seven long years of infamy I pin'd,
And fondled, loath'd, and prey'd upon mankind :
Till, all the drudgery of vice gone through,
My batter'd fabric fails at twenty-two;
And Death, with ev'ry terror in his train,
Here clos'd the scene of riot, guilt, and pain.
Ye fair associates of my op'ning bloom,
O come and weep, and profit at my tomb!
Let my short youth and blighted beauty prove
The fated venom of unlawful love :
O think how quick my foul career I ran,
A sacrifice to falsehood, lust, and man!
Then shun the paths, where Passion's meteors shine
Your's be the lesson; all th' experience mine!
" 'Twas on Transylvania's Bannat,
When the crescent shone afar,
Like a pale, disastrous planet,
O'er the purple tide of war."
* The celebrated author of the "Pleasures of Hope," &c.
"In that day of desolation,
Lady, I was captive made,
Bleeding for my Christian nation,
By the walls of high Belgrade."
"Captive, could the brightest jewel
From my turban set thee free?
Lady, no! the gift were cruel,
Ransom'd yet, if reft of thee."
"Say, fair Princess, would it grieve thee
Christian realms should we behold?
No, fond knight, I would not leave thee,
Were thy ransom paid in gold.”
"Stranger, know, my mother taught me,
Georgia's princely name she bore,
Ne'er to wed a chief that sought me,
Save the holy cross he wore."
"And her spirit would reprove me,
Should a Paynim share my hand;
Love me, then, for ever love me,
Gentle knight of English land."
Now in heaven's bright expansion
Rose the midnight star to view,
When, to quit her father's mansion,
Thrice she wept and bade adieu.
Tyrant foes in vain ye hover,
Turkish prows in vain ye ride,
Safe and far the joyous lover
Clasps his blooming Eastern bride
ΟΝ ΑΝ ΟΑΚ,
In View of a Seat in Oxfordshire.
IN rent to owner see;
N yon old venerable tree
Aloft he rears his reverend head,
Wide through the lawn his shadow spread;
Shelter affords alike to all,
The rich and poor, the great and small,
Nor age nor tempest yet could wound-
His root so deep, his heart so sound.
Thus Parker, thro' his life's whole race,
In every station, every place,
Pursu'd the sure, unerring plan,
A learned judge, an upright man ;
Ne'er could the statesman's smile or frown
Warp him in favour of the crown;
Or wish of popular applause
Pervert his judgment of the laws.
Unmov'd by either, fix'd he stood
On this firm base, his country's good:
And all he acted, thought, or spoke,
Prov'd his true heart, a heart of oak.
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