And Vice reluctant quits th' expected The strange misfortunes, oh! what words prey. can tell? Tell! ye neglected sylphs! who lap-dogs guard, AT Cease, thou lorn mother! cease thy Why snatch'd ye not away your precious wailings drear; [IN CHRIST'S HOSPITAL BOOK] Medio de fonte leporum Surgit amari aliquid. JULIA was blest with beauty, wit, and grace: Small poets loved to sing her blooming face. Before her altars, lo! a numerous train Preferr'd their vows; yet all preferr'd in vain, Till charming Florio, born to conquer, came ward? Why suffer'd ye the lover's weight to fall On the ill-fated neck of much-loved Ball? The favourite on his mistress casts his eyes, Gives a short melancholy howl, anddies. Sacred his ashes lie, and long his rest! Anger and grief divide poor Julia's breast. Her eyes she fixt on guilty Florio first: On him the storm of angry grief must burst. The storm he fled: he wooes a kinder fair, Whose fond affections no dear puppies share. "Twere vain to tell, how Julia pin'd away: Unhappy Fair! that in one luckless day From future Almanacks the day be crost!At once her Lover and her Lap-dog lost. 1789. QUÆ NOCENT DOCENT [IN CHRIST'S HOSPITAL BOOK] O! mihi præteritos referat si Jupiter annos ! And touch'd the fair one with an equal OH! might my ill-past hours return flame. The flame she felt, and ill could she conceal What every look and action would reveal. With boldness then, which seldom fails to move, He pleads the cause of Marriage and of Love: The course of Hymeneal joys he rounds, The fair one's eyes danc'd pleasure at the sounds. Nought now remain'd but Noes'-how little meant ! And the sweet coyness that endears con sent. The youth upon his knees enraptur'd fell: again! No more, as then, should Sloth around me throw Her soul-enslaving, leaden chain! No more the precious time would I employ In giddy revells, or in thoughtless joy, But o'er the midnight Lamp I'd love to pore, I'd seek with care fair Learning's depths to sound, And gather scientific Lore: Or to mature the embryo thoughts inclin'd, YE souls unused to lofty verse Like sand before the blast disperse A Nose! a mighty Nose I sing! As erst Prometheus stole from heaven the fire To animate the wonder of his hand; Thus with unhallow'd hands, O muse, aspire, In robes of ice my body wrap! Hear ye my entrails how they snap? Some power unseen forbids my lungs to breathe! What fire-clad meteors round me whizzing fly! And from my subject snatch a burn- I vitrify thy torrid zone beneath, ing brand! Light of this once all darksome spot Where now their glad course mortals run, First-born of Sirius begot Upon the focus of the sun I'll call thee! for such thy earthly name Proboscis fierce! I am calcined! I THO' no bold flights to thee belong; What name so high, but what too low For, lovely Muse! thy sweet employ flame Are but faint types and images of thee! Burn madly, Fire! o'er earth in ravage run, And softens sorrow into pensive Joy. Then blush for shame more red by fiercer To laugh with pity at the crowds that 6 DESTRUCTION OF THE BASTILE-TO A YOUNG LADY HEARD'ST thou yon universal cry, And dost thou linger still on Gallia's shore? Go, Tyranny! beneath some barbarous sky Thy terrors lost and ruin'd power deplore! What tho' through many a groaning age Was felt thy keen suspicious rage, Such scenes no more demand the tear I see, I see! glad Liberty succeed Secure he views his harvests rise; Shall throb in every pulse, shall flow thro' every vein ! VI Shall France alone a Despot spurn? Shall she alone, O Freedom, boast thy care? Yet Freedom roused by fierce Dis- | Lo, round thy standard Belgia's heroes dain burn, Tho' Power's blood-stain'd streamers fire the air, And wider yet thy influence spread, Nor e'er recline thy weary head, Till every land from pole to pole Shall boast one independent soul! And still, as erst, let favour'd Britain be First ever of the first and freest of the free! ? 1789. TO A YOUNG LADY WITH A POEM ON THE FRENCH [Probably the preceding verses.] MUCH on my early youth I love to dwell, Ere yet I bade that friendly dome farewell, Where first, beneath the echoing cloisters pale, I heard of guilt and wondered at the tale! Yet though the hours flew by on careless wing, Full heavily of Sorrow would I sing. My soul amid the pensive twilight gloom If Smiles more winning, and a gentler Mourned with the breeze, O Lee Boo!1 the shade, Mien Where peaceful Virtue weaves the Myrtle May this (I cried) my course through Life braid. 30 And O! if Eyes whose holy glances roll, Swift messengers, and eloquent of soul; 1 Lee Boo, the son of Abba Thule, Prince of the Pelew Islands, came over to England with Captain Wilson, died of the small-pox, and is buried in Greenwich church-yard. See Keate's Account of the Pelew Islands. 1788. 2 Southey's Retrospect. portray! [display, New scenes of wisdom may each step And knowledge open as my days advance! Till what time Death shall pour the undarken'd ray, My eye shall dart thro' infinite expanse, And thought suspended lie in rapture's blissful trance. 1789. |