The Child of a Tar. IN a little blue garment, all ragged and torn, With scarce any shoes to his feet, His head quite uncover'd, a look quite forlorn, And a cold stony step for his seat; A boy cheerless sat, and as passengers pass'd, Have pity, he cry'd, let your bounty be cast No mother I have, and no friend I can claim, Deserted and cheerless I roam; My father has fought for his country and fame, But alas! he may never come home! Pinch'd by cold, and by hunger, how hapless my fate, Distress must all happiness mar; Look down on my sorrows, and pity the fate By cruelty drove from a neat rural cot, Bow'd down by misfortune,death made her his own, Distress'd and quite friendless, she left me to moan, A poor little child of a tar, Thus plaintive he mourn'd, when a sailor that pass'd Stopp'd a moment to give him relief; He stretch'd forth his hand, and a look on him cast,* A look full of wonder and grief! What! my William, he cry'd, my poor little boy! With wealth I've return'd from the war; Thy sorrows shall cease, nor shall grief more annoy The poor little child of a tar. When Phoebus peeps over the Hills. WHEN Phoebus begins just to peep o'er the hills, With horns we awaken the day And rouse brother sportsmen, who sluggishly sleep, With hark! to the woods! hark away! See the hounds are uncoupled in musical cry, And high-mettled steeds with their neighings all seem With pleasure to echo the sound, Behold where sly Reynard, with panic and dread, At distance o'er hillocks doth bound; The pack on the scent fly with rapid career ; Hark! the horns! O how sweetly they sound! Now on to the chase, p'er hills and o'er dales, All dangers we nobly defy; Our nags are all stout, and our sports we'll pursuě, With shouts that resound to the sky. But see how he lags, all his arts are in vain ; With shouting and joy we return from the field, The Birth of Liberty. WHEN first infant Liberty dropp'd upon earth, The mountains and forests then cradled her birth: Nurs'd by Nature, she dwelt among savages wild, Whilst numerous nations adopted the child. Her mind was for ages as dark as the night"; But banish'd from earth by a profligate race, Long time she conceal'd both her grief and disgrace; Till heroes demanding a charter of laws, Recall'd her from heaven to enlist in their cause: In Britain she landed, delighted to see Men firm to their king, yet resolved to be free; Then in England for ever may Liberty reign, The queen of the isles, and the queen of the main, Feelings of Man LET the Epicure boast the delight of his soul, In the high-season'd dish and the full flowing bowl; Can they give such true joys as benevolence can, Or as charity feels, when it benefits man Let him know the kind impulse that suffers with grief; Let him taste the delight of affording relief; plan, Who design'd man to act as the brother of man. Think the chapter of life oft reverses the scene, And the rich man becomes what the poor man bás been; Think that chapter must end, for but short is the span That will give us the power to benefit man, Sully Roy. FAIR Sally, once the village pride, Grief broke the heart of gentle Sally. Swift from the arms of weeping love, The virgin-train in tears are seen, |