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VERSES

ADDRESSED TO

DR. THORNTON,

On the Completion of his Temple of Flora, or Garden of Nature.

OH! Bards of Athens! for your classic rage,

Or Rubens' fire, to warm the kindling page; Then like those vivid tints my Song should glow,

And THORNTON's praise in noblest numbers flow;

Fervent as his should roll the breathing line, The radiant colouring, and the rich design.

From orient regions where the tropic ray Lights beauty's beams, and pours the glowing day,

To where th' eternal snows of winter spread, And ice-clad mountains rear their lofty head, Thy daring hand hath cull'd the loveliest flow'rs

To deck delighted Albion's happier bow'rs; On each proud page in varied radiance bright, The MUSE exalting feasts her raptur'd sight; For ever fresh those flow'rs; for ever fair! The rage of Envy and of Time shall dare. Around thy couch their branching tendrils

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Where Nature's pencil lights her brightest

dies,"

And all Brazilia flames before our eyes.

Though o'er her head the southern whirlwind rave,

Secure, behold! superb Strelitzia wave;
While amidst barren rocks and arctic snows
Fair Kalmia in refulgent beauty glows:-
Lo! Cereus, faithful to th' appointed hour,
With glory's beams illumes the midnigh
hour;

Ah fleeting beams! ere Phoebus darts its rays,
Wither'd thy beauty, and extinct its blaze!
Not so yon Aloe, on whose tow'ring head
An hundred years their fost'ring dews have
shed;

Not so the Glories that these leaves illume, Whose splendid tints for centuries shall bloom!

Fain would the MUSE each beauteous Plant
rehearse,

And sing their glories in immortal verse;
But who shall paint them with a pow'r like

thine,

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ADDRESS TO A ROBIN, On bearing it sing, October 30, 1806

ROBIN, thy soft autumnal song

How grateful to mine ear!
Domestic bird, 'tis kind of thee
To cheer with rural minstrelsy
The dull declining year.
Mute is the lark, that soar'd aloft
To hail the blushing dawn.
Perch'd on a dew-impeailed bush,
No more the shrill mellifluous thrush
With caro's welcomes morn.
Why, rosy-breasted minstrel, why
Alas! thou know'st not winter drear
Attune the merry strain?
In snowy vest will soon appear,

With all his rueful train.
Yet, happy bird! the knowledge would

Impair thy artless lay;

The thought would mar thy present joy, Mix with thy bliss a base alloy,

And cloud thy cheerful day.

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ADDRESS TO A BUTTERFLY.

HAIL, loveliest of the insect tribe!

How beauteous to behold! Thy glitt'ring pinions charm mine eyes, Starr'd with bright beauty's brilliant dies, And edg'd with beany gold.

Gaily you rove as fancy wills

In summer's frolic hour;
Wanton in Sol's meridian ray
Sip nectar from each bloomy spray,

And gad from flower to flower.
Seek distant fields and gay parterres;
Far from my garden stray,
Lest my Horatio should espy
Thy gilded form with wishful eye,

And mark thee for his prey.
Gay insect, still pursue thy sport,
Be every gambol play'd;
For Eurus soon, with frigid mien,
Will sweep thee from the sunbright scene
To dark oblivion's shade.

Thus idly vain the gaudy fop

Consumes life's golden space; Thoughtless he hastes from fair to fair, Till Death approach, with brow austere, And ends his useless race. Haverhill.

LINES

JOHN WEBB.

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If ever down thy cherub face,

When some malignant ill appears, The crystal drops each other chase,

And dim thy laughing eyes with tears;
Thy mother then with folding arms,

As to her lips thy cheek she presses,
Will quickly full thy wild alarms,

And dry thy tears in her caresses:
Thy little heart may ev'ry ill deride
When to her bosom clasp'd, or cradled by her
side.

As yet thou hast not learnt to share,

When told thy hapless parents' tale,
With them their ills, or with a tear
Thy country's miseries bewail:
No sad remembrance of the past

Has cross'd with cruelty unkind
Thy infant memory, to blast

The sweetness of thy dawning mind;

No dread of future storms thy breast an-t

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trembling string,

I heard with rapture the harmonious lay; But when you join'd your gentle voice to sing, Enchanted quite, my soul dissolv'd away. Who could such harmony unmoved hear?

The force divine of such melodious strains Would banish grief, suppress the starting tear,

And sweetly charm away the fiercest pains. Ten thousand beauties play upon your cheeks, Your lovely eyes dart forth seraphic fire; While each kind glance, more sweet than tongue can speak,

Fills ev'ry bosom with a soft desire. How in sweet slav'ry could I spend my days With you, my soul's ador'd! and when I prove

The ills of life, your charms and warbling lays Should fill my soul with harmony and love. E.

LINES

To the Memory of the infant Son of Mr. EATON, apothecary and surgeon-dentist, late of Highgate.

WHAT trouble does this chequer'd life prepare!

A child is gone, each parent's tender çare.

Pleas'd have I oft our little babe caress'd, And view'd him smiling at his mother's breast;

But now too well is known the absent joy-
By death depriv'd, we've lost our lovely boy.
Sweet infant!-cause of many a painful tear,
Though yet thy age extended not a year,
Can we forget thy fond endearing look,
Or what in play thy tender fingers took?
O no! each thing reminds us now with pain;
Our darling's gone, and all our hopes are vain.
No more each parent sees thy sportive ways;
No more, alas! thy little toys can please;
All, all on earth does our poor infant leave-
Consign'd is Peter to the silent grave!
But yet, dear boy, with innocence shall rise
Thy infant spirit to its native skies.
Oct. 3, 1800.

EDWY.

DESCRIPTION OF A GOOD WIFE, From Proverbs, ch. 31, v. 10.

MORE precious far than rubies, who can
find

A wife embellished with a virtuous mind?
In her securely, as his better part,
Her happy husband cheerful rests his heart.
With such a lovely partner of his toil
His goods increase without the need of spoil.
Biess'd in the friendship of his faithful wife,
He steers through all vicissitudes of life.
Well pleas'd she labours, nor disdains to cull
The textile flax, or weave the twisted wool.
Rich as the merchant's ships that crowd the
strands,

She reaps the harvest of remotest lands.
Early she rises, ere bright Phoebus shines,
And to her damsels sep'rate tasks assigns.
Refresh'd with food, her hinds renew their
toil,

And cheerful haste to cultivate the soil.
If to her farm some field contiguous lies,
With care she views it, and with prudence

buys:

And with the gains which Heaven to wisdom grants,

A vineyard of delicious grapes she plants. Inur'd to toils, she strength and sweetness joins

Strength is the graceful girdle of her loins. With joy her goodly merchandise she views. And oft till morn her pleasing work pursues? The spindle twirls obedient to her tread; Round roils the wheel, and spins the ductile

thread.

Beuignant, from her ever-open door,
She feeds the hungry and relieves the poor.
Nor frost nor snow her family molest,
For all her household are in scarlet dress'd:
Resplendent robes are by her husband worn.
Her limbs fine purple and rich silks adorn.
For wisdom fam'd, for probity renown'd,
She sits in council with bright honour crown'd.
To weave rich girdles is her softer care,
Which merchants buy, and mighty monarchs

wear,

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TO ANNA.

LET not one pang thy breast annoy,
Since we, alas! are doom'd to part;
Let nothing damp thy former jov,

Or with such terrors fright thy heart
Absence can only for a while

Compel the anxious breast to sigh; Its tears will soon become a smile, And every scene of sorrow fly. What though o'er bursting waves I roll, And tempt the horrors of the main; The Power that can those waves control Will give me to thy arms again. Then banish, Anna, all thy fears,

Nor thus this parting scene deplore; Soon, soon again I'll dry thy tears, And never, never leave thee more. Νου. 3, 1806. JUNIUS

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Sung by BRAHAM (accompanying himself on the piano-forte) in the new opera of FALSE ALARMS, or MY COUSIN."

SAID a Smile to a Tear,

On the cheek of my dear,

And beam'd like the sun in spring weather; In sooth, lovely Tear,

It strange must appear,

That we should be both here together.

I came from the heart,

A soft balm to impart

To yonder sad daughter of grief.
And I, said the Smile,

That heart now beguile,

Since you gave the poor mourner relief.

Oh! then, said the Tear,
Sweet Smile, it is clear

We are twins, and soft Pity our mother;
And how lovely that face
Which together we grace,
For the woe and the bliss of another!

THE PEASANT'S DEATH;
Or, a Visit to the House of Mourning.

THIS poor man, lifting up his death-dimm'd

eyes,

Of those he lo'd to take a farewel view, And giving them, by faith, to God on high, Finds in his soul more satisfaction true

Than if he saw with every wind that blew, Wafted for them, the wealth of Asia's shores; Than if he left them crowns, or rich Peru Were opening vast her subterranean doors, For them th' astonish'd world to heap with all her stores.

Yet still, no stoic he, with cold neglect

To treat his own, despising nature's tie; Nor raving, rapt, enthusiast t' expect

A miracle from Heaven for their supplyNo, no; a dew that moistens either eye, The heavy sigh he labours to suppress, While stretching forth his feeble hand to dry

The stream of grief that flows on every face, Compassion, love sincere, and deep regret,

confess.

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FOREIGN NEWS.

'Milan, Dec. 1.

HAVING been apprised of the important resolution of his majesty the emperor Napoleon to declare the British islands in a state of blockade, we have already taken our measures relative to bills of exchange, &c. Of course the sending of unwrought silk from Lombardy to England is stopped for the present. We are, however, much afraid that bills of exchange for this article will not be accepted.

St. Petersburgb, Dec. 2. On the 28th of November field marshal count Kamenskoy set out for the army from this city.

There is a stagnation in trade, on two accounts, the interruption of the navigation, and the present state of political affairs. An Ukase of the 11th of November has been signed by his imperial majesty, which orders a levy of four recruits out of every five hun dred souls all through the empire. Se. veral conditions are annexed to this order, to render the service as easy as possible.

Berlin, Dec. 6. The head quarters of his majesty the emperor and king are at present at Posen, and the Prussians, who appeared in small numbers at Warsaw, must have repassed the Vistula. The news which have been circulated that the French had experienced defeats are false and unfounded.

From the Danube, Dec. 8. It is said that a person of high rank, who enjoys the full confidence of his majesty the emperor of Austria, will shortly set out for the French head-quarters.

The report is current, that in case of the restoration of the kingdom of Poland, Gallicia will be added to it. Peopie insist that Austria will, in that case, Vol. XXXVIII.

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receive in return a country much more important, and which she has seen for upwards of sixty years in the hands of another power, and that with particular regret. The cession of Salzburg and the Innviertal to Bavaria is no longer insisted upon. In the mean while it is clear, that the negociations carrying on at Vienna are of the highest importance. Couriers are continually arriving; and MM. Andreossy and Durand have very frequent conferences with count Stadion.

Frontiers of Saxony, Dec. 9. In the fortress of Glogau, which surrendered after a bombardment of a few hours to the Wurtemburgh troops, under general Vandamme, the French found 200 pieces of cannon; the garrison, consisting of 4000 men, are prisoners of war, and will be sent to France.

The emperor Napoleon has reviewed the corps of marshal Soult before Posen. The other corps of the French army are expected before that town, on their way to Warsaw, where the grand duke of Berg already is, with his van-guard, having entered it on the retreat of the Russians. The emperor intends to go to Warsaw as soon as the troops have taken the positions assigned to them. The army supports itself on the Vistula, and the confederate Polonese are encamped at Czeskok, so as to make part of the right wing of the army. Marshal Soult, with his corps, forms the left wing at Bionick and Naidarzin. The Russians at the date of the last accounts, were on the other side of the Vistula, and had their head quarters at Kamaniec; so that the French army was oblired to pass the river, in order to attack it. We wait with impatience for fresh intelligence. It is computed that, be

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