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BY JAMES HAMMOND, ESQ. *
HE UPBRAIDS AND THREATENS THE AVA
RICE OF NE ÆRA, AND RESOLVES TO
ULD Jove descend in foods of liquid ore, And golden torrents stream from every part, That craving bosom still wou'd heave for more, Not all the gods cou'd satisfy thy heart :
But may thy folly, which can thus disdain
May all the youths, like me, by love deceived,
But the deserving, tender, generous maid,
lover's mind, Tho' ruthless age may bid her beauty fade, In every friend to love, a friend shall find :
* Born 1710; dyed 1742.
And, when the lamp of life will burn no more,
With flow'ry garlands, each revolving year,
то HIS FRIEND, WRITTEN UNDER THE
CONFINEMENT OF A LONG INDISPOSITION.
ĦILE calm you fit beneath your secret shade, And lose in pleasing thought the summer-day, Or tempt the wish of some unpractised maid, Whose heart at once inclines and fears to stray :
The sprightly vigour of my youth is Aed, 5
No virgin's easy faith I e'er betray'd,
• The goddess of death.
No secret horrors gnaw this quiet breaft,
No stealth of time has thinn'd my flowing hair,
Ye gods, whoe'er in gloomy shades below
Oh, let me still enjoy the cheerful day ;
But you, who now, with festive garlands crown’d, In chase of pleasure the gay moments spend, 30 By quick enjoyment heal love's pleasing wound, And grieve for nothing but your absent friend,
While Arbens glory'd in her free-born race,
Then fled the Muse, indignant, from the shore, Nor deign’d to dwell where Freedom was no more : Vain then, alas! The fought Britannia's isle, 15 Charm'd with her voice, and cheer'd us with her If Gallic laws her gen'rous fight restrain, [smile. And bind her captive with th' ignoble chain ;
* Born 1710; dyod 1774.
Bold and unlicensd, in Eliza's days,
25 Till Thou, my friend, my genius, sprung to Fame; Lur'd by his laurel's never-fading bloom, You boldly snatch'd the trophy from his tomb, Taught the declining Muse again to foar, And to Britannia gave one Poet more.
Pleas'd, in thy lays we see GUSTAVUS live; But, O GUSTAVUS ! if thou can'ft, forgive. Britons, more savage than the tyrant Dane, Beneath whose yoke you drew the galling chain, Degen’rate Britons, by thy worth dismay'd, 35 Prophane thy glories, and proscribe thy shade.