« ForrigeFortsett »
Yet life still lingers in thee, and puts forth
But since, although well qualified by age
One man alone, the father of us all,
TO THE NIGHTINGALE,
WHICH THE AUTHOR HEARD SING ON NEW YEAR'S DAY, 179?.
Whence is it, that amazed I hear
From yonder withered spray,
The melody of May?
And why, since thousands would be proud
Of such a favour shown,
To witness it alone?
Sing'st thou, sweet Philomel, to me,
For that I also long
Though not like thee in song?
Or sing'st thou rather under force
Of some divine command,
Of happier days at hand?
Thrice welcome then! for many a long
And joyless year have I,
Beneath a wintry sky.
But Thee no wintry skies can harm,
Who only need'st to sing,
And every season Spring.
WRITTEN FCR INSERTION IN A COLLECTION OF HANDWRITINGS AND SIGNATURES MAT)E BY MISS PATTY, SISTER OF HANNAH MORE.
In vain to live from age to age
While modern ban's endeavour,
And gain my point for ever.
ON A FREE BUT TAME REDBREAST, A FAVOURITE OF MISS SALLY HURDIS.
These are not dew-drops, these are tears,
And tears by Sally shed
With too much cause, is dead.
One morn he came not to her hand
As he was wont to come,
Picking his breakfast-crumb.
Alarmed she called him, and perplext
She sought him, but in vain;
Nor ever came again.
She therefore raised him here a tomb,
Though where he fell, or how,
Nor where he moulders now.
Had half a score of coxcombs died,
Poor Sally's tears had soon been dried,
But Bob was neither rudely bold
Nor spiritlessly tame,
But always in a flame.
SONNET TO WILLIAM WILBERFORCE, ESQ.
Thy country, Wilberforce, with just disdain,
From exile, public sale, and slavery's chain.
Friend of the poor, the wronged, the fetter-galled,
Fear not lest labour such as thine be vain.
Thou hast achieved a part; hast gained the ear
Of Britain's senate to thy glorious cause;
Hope smiles, joy springs, and though cold caution pause
By peace for Afric, fenced with British laws.
Enjoy what thou hast won, esteem and love
From all the just on earth, and all the blest above.
(PRINTED IN THE NORTHAMPTON MERCURY.)
To purify their wine some people bleed
A lamb into the barrel, and succeed;
No nostrum, planters say, is half so good
To make fine sugar, as a negro's blood.
Now lambs and negroes both are harmless thiiigs,
And thence perhaps this wondrous virtue springs.
'Tis in the blood of innocence alone—
Good cause why planters never try their own.
TO DR. AUSTIN, OF CECIL STREET, LONDON.
May 26, 1782.
Austin . accept a grateful verse from me,
Yet, if extensive fame, and sure to live,
Friend of my friend !l I love thee, though unknown, And boldly call thee, being his, my own.
SONNET ADDRESSED TO WILLIAM HAYLEY, ESQ.
Hayley, thy tenderness fraternal shown
Such as it is has made my heart thy own,
Though heedless now of new engagements grown;
Of Friendship more, except with God alone.
Who, ere this last afflictive scene began,
Thy true deserts infallibly to scan,
Not more to admire the bard than love the man.
MARY AND JOHN.
If John marries Mary, and Mary alone,
Tis a very good match between Mary and John.
Should John wed a score, oh, the claws and the scratches!
It can't be a match :—'tis a bundle of matches.
TO SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS.
Dear President, whose art sublime
Thus say the sisterhood :—We come;
. — TC
We come to furnish you with hints.
First strike a curve, a graceful bow,
Iberia, trembling from afar,
AUTHOR OF LETTERS ON LITERATURE.!
The genius of the Augustan age
His head among Rome's ruins reared,
And bursting with heroic rage,
Thou hast, he cried, like him of old
By being scandalously bold,
And for traducing Virgil's name
Shalt share his merited reward;
That rots, and stinks, and is abhorred.
1 Nominally by Robert Heron, but written by John Pinkerton. 8vo. 1785