II.

Where wilt thou dwell, if not with me, From av'rice and ambition free,

And pleasure's fatal wiles?

For whom, alas! dost thou prepare
The sweets that I was wont to share,

The banquet of thy smiles?

III,

The great, the gay, shall they partake The Heav'n that thou alone canst make?

And wilt thou quit the stream, That murmurs through the dewy mead, The grove and the sequester'd shed, To be a guest with them?

IV.

For thee I panted, thee I priz'd,
For thee I gladly sacrific'd
Whate'er I lov'd before;

And shall I see thee start away,
And helpless, hopeless, hear thee say-
Farewell! we meet no more?

HUMAN FRAILTY.

I.
WEAK and irresolute is man;
The purpose of to day,
Woven with pains into his plan,
To morrow rends away.

II.
The bow well bent, and smart the spring,
Vice seems already slain;

But Passion rudely snaps the string,
And it revives again.

III.
Some foe to his upright intent
Finds out his weaker part;

Virtue engages his assent,
But Pleasure wins his heart.
IV.
"Tis here the folly of the wise
Through all his art we view;
And, while his tongue the charge denies,
His conscience owns it true.

V.

Bound on a voyage of awful length
And dangers little known,
A stranger to superior strength,
Man vainly trusts his own.

VI.

But oars alone can ne'er prevail,

To reach the distant coast;

The breath of Heav'n must swell the sail,

Or all the toil is lost.

THE MODERN PATRIOT.

I.
REBELLION is my theme all day;

I only wish 'twould come

(As who knows but perhaps it may?)
A little nearer home.

II.
Yon roaring boys who rave and fight
On t'other side th' Atlantic,

I always held them in the right,
But most so when most frantic.

VOL. I.

T

III.

When lawless mobs insult the court,
That man shall be my toast,
If breaking windows be the sport,
Who bravely breaks the most.
IV.
But O! for him my fancy culls
The choicest flow'rs she bears,
Who constitutionally pulls

Your house about your ears.
V.

Such civil broils are my delight,
Though some folks can't endure them,

Who say the mob are mad outright,
And that a rope must cure them.
VI.
A rope! I wish we patriots had
Such strings for all who need 'em—
What! hang a man for going mad!
Then farewell British freedom.

ON OBSERVING

SOME NAMES OF LITTLE NOTE

RECORDED IN

THE BIOGRAPHIA BRITANNICA.

Oн, fond attempt to give a deathless lot
To names ignoble, born to be forgot!
In vain, recorded in historic page,
They court the notice of a future
age:
Those twinkling tiny lustres of the land
Drop one by one from Fame's neglecting hand;
Lethæan gulphs receive them as they fall,
And dark oblivion soon absorbs them all.

So when a child, as playful children use, Has burnt to tinder a stale last year's news, The flame extinct, he views the roving fireThere goes my lady, and there goes the squire, There goes the parson, oh illustrious spark! And there, scarce less illustrious, goes the clerk!