And still to love, though prest with ill, With me is to be lovely still, But ah! by constant heed I know How oft the sadness that I show, My Mary! Transforms thy smiles to looks of wo, My Mary! And should my future lot be cast My Mary' THE CASTAWAY. [March, 20, 1799.) OBSCUREST night involv'd the sky; No braver chief could Albion boas., He lov'd them both, but both in vain, Nor him beheld, nor her again. Not long beneath the whelming brine, Expert to swim, he lay : Nor soon he felt his strength decline, Or courage die away; But wag'd with death a lasting site, Supported by despair of life. הפיה He shouted; nor his friends had fail'd That, pitiless, perforce, They left their outcast mate behind, Some succour yet they could afford, The cask, the coop, the floated cord, But he (they knew) nor ship nor shore, Nor, cruel as it seem'd, could he Yet bitter felt it still to die He long survives, who lives an hour And so long he, with unspent pow'r And ever as the minutes flew, At length, his transient respite past, Had heard his voice in ev'ry blast, For then, by toil subdu'd, he drank The stifling wave, and then he sank. No poet wept him: but the page That tells his name, his worth, his age And tears by bards or heroes shed I therefore purpose not, or dream, To give the melancholy theme But misery still delights to trace No voice divine the storm allay'd But I beneath a rougher sea, And whelm'd in deeper gulfs than he THE YEARLY DISTRESS, OR, TITHING TIME AT STOCK, 'N ESSEX. Verses addressed to a country clergyman, com plaining of the disagreeableness of the day annually appointed for receiving the dues at the parsonage. COME, ponder well, for 'tis no jes The priest he merry is and blithe He then is full of frights and fear |