She sat, and a shield at her side "I go to make freemen of slaves." Then raising her voice to a strain The sweetest that ear ever heard, Thus swiftly dividing the flood, To a slave-cultured island we came, But soon as approaching the land That goddess-like woman he view'd, The scourge he let fall from his hand, With blood of his subjects imbrued. I saw him both sicken and die, And the moment the monster expired, Heard shouts, that ascended the sky, From thousands with rapture inspired. Awaking, how could I but muse At what such a dream should betide? But soon my ear caught the glad news, Which served my weak thought for a guide — That Britannia, renown'd o'er the waves For the hatred she ever has shown, To the black-sceptre'd rulers of slaves, Resolves to have none of her own. LINES, COMPOSED FOR A MEMORIAL OF ASHLEY COWPER, ESQ. IMMEDIATELY AFTER HIS DEATH, BY HIS NEPHEW [Composed in June, 1788. Mr Cowper died aged eighty-seven.] FAREWELL! endued with all that could engage Among the gay, yet virtuous as the old; 2 In life's last stage, (O blessings rarely found!) Marble may flatter, and lest this should seem THE DOG AND THE WATER LILY. NO FABLE. [This exquisite moral application of an event so trivial in itself, was composed in July, 1788. Beau, a present to the Poet from the Misses Gunning, daughters of Sir Robert Gunning, celebrated for their beauty, and for having married two of the richest peers of England, was a constant attendant upon his master in all his rambles, and is even now remembered by some of the aged inhabitants of Olney. His skin stuffed is still, or was, at Eartham, in possession of Mr Hayley's heirs.] THE noon was shady, and soft airs When, 'scaped from literary cares, My spaniel, prettiest of his race, (Two nymphs adorn'd with every grace Now wanton'd lost in flags and reeds, Pursued the swallow o'er the meads It was the time when Ouse display'd With cane extended far I sought But still the prize, though nearly caught, Beau mark'd my unsuccessful pains With fix'd considerate face, But with a chirrup clear and strong, I thence withdrew, and follow'd long My ramble finish'd, I return'd, The floating wreath again discern'd, I saw him with that lily cropp'd Impatient swim to meet My quick approach, and soon he dropp'd The treasure at my feet. Charm'd with the sight, the world, I cried, Shall hear of this thy deed: My dog shall mortify the pride Of man's superior breed: But chief myself I will enjoin, To shew a love as prompt as thine ON THE DEATH OF LADY THROCKMORTON'S BULFINCH. [Cowper relates this event in a letter to Rose.] September 25, 1788. YE nymphs, if e'er your eyes were red Her favourite, even in his cage, Where Rhenus strays his vines among, Or only with a whistle blest, The honours of his ebon poll Were brighter than the sleekest mole; With which Aurora decks the skies, Above, below, in all the house, And Bully's cage supported stood Well-latticed — but the grate, alas ! But smooth with wands from Ouse's side, Night veil'd the pole, all seem'd secure : A beast forth sallied on the scout, He entering at the study door, Its ample area 'gan explore; And something in the wind Conjectured, sniffing round and round, Just then, by adverse fate impress'd, For, aided both by ear and scent, Minute the horrors that ensued ; His teeth were strong, the cage was wood- O had he made that too his prey; |