Tis sweet to echo sigh for sigh; 'Tis sweet to nurse a silent grief, 'Tis sweet by twilight pale, alone, "Tis sweet to wake the harp of woe, EPIGRAM. To MRS. F "TIs Friendship's right, I know fall well, R. A. D. IF e'er to feel the breath of Fame Thy name breathes magic o'er my song, An unknown spirit mov'd along, Thy rising worth with silent joy As every radiant star supplies, Thy presence bids the morning rays * Ossian. As fields of grain th' impulsive wind, So, mov'd by thee, my yielding mind, Thus o'er the plaintive harp I bend, And hence the Mantuan's glowing page, Hence too, the milder Roman's * bays While breathes through all his polish'd lays, The elegance of Thine. And nature best my bosom warms, Because Thou lov'st her awful charms, When soften'd beauty, meeken'd grace, Th' enchantment of each magic place, Thus reason gave my passion birth; And to my eyes the total earth Is full of thee and love. Ovid. ODE, On the Thanksgiving for the Victory of the Nile. Partly an Imitation of ENOUGH hath impious Gallic rage Enough have Atheists in their pride The God of all the earth defied: Robb'd by the sacrilegious hand And worse than brutal fury overwhelm, And drench with blood of massacres the realm. III. We saw with wild gigantic stride For Indus-long a destin'd prey To death and rapine speed their way; Whilst in extremes upon the western flood Aghast with horror pale Hibernia stood. IV. What power shall bring them back to peace, And still this raging of the seas? Thine, thou Almighty gracious Lord! By grateful Britons still ador'd! To thee the willing vow we pay, To thee for help in nced we pray; Nor fear, protected by thy shield and bow, Ordain'd by thy supreme decrée To rule the empire of the sea, Thus far nor further shalt thou go: To thee alone the grateful voice we raise |