" No doubt but I shall find him in the yard: To A YOUNG LADY WITH A PRESENT OF TWO COCKSCOMBS Two powdered Cockscombs wait at your command, And seek a shelter in your closest bower; EPITAPH ON A HARE HERE lies whom hound did ne'er pursue Old Tiney, surliest of his kind, Who, nursed with tender care, Though duly from my hand he took He did it with a jealous look, And, when he could, would bite. His diet was of wheaten bread, Thistles, or lettuces instead, With sand to scour his maw. On twigs of hawthorn he regaled, A Turkey carpet was his lawn, His frisking was at evening hours, But most before approaching showers, Eight years and five round-rolling moons And every night at play. I kept him for his humour's sake, My heart of thoughts that made it ache, But now beneath this walnut shade He, still more agèd, feels the shocks ON THE LOSS OF THE ROYAL GEORGE WRITTEN BY DESIRE OF LADY Austen, WHO WANTED WORDS TO THE MARCH IN "SCIPIO." TOLL for the brave! The brave that are no more! All sunk beneath the wave, Fast by their native shore ! Her timbers yet are sound And she may float again, Full charged with England's thunder, And plough the distant main. But Kempenfelt is gone, His victories are o'er; And he and his eight hundred Shall plough the wave no more. IN SUBMERSIONEM NAVIGII CUI GEORGIUS REGALE NOMEN INDITUM PLANGIMUS fortes. Periêre fortes, Patrium propter periêre littus Bis quater centum, subito sub alto Equore mersi. Navis innitens lateri jacebat, Plangimus fortes. Nimis, heu, caducam Magne, qui nomen, licet incanorum, Non hyems illos furibunda mersit, Navitæ sed tum nimium jocosi Vos, quibus cordi est grave opus piumque, Et putrescentes sub aquis amicos Hi quidem (sic dîs placuit) fuêre: SONG ON PEACE AIR-" My fond Shepherds of late" No longer I follow a sound; I have sought thee in splendour and dress, An humble ambition and hope The voice of true wisdom inspires ; 'Tis sufficient, if Peace be the scope And the summit of all our desires. Peace may be the lot of the mind That seeks it in meekness and love; But rapture and bliss are confined SONG AIR-" The Lass of Pattie's Mill" WHEN all within is peace, How nature seems to smile! The livelong day beguile. With open hand she showers And soothe the silent hours. It is content of heart Gives nature power to please; The mind that feels no smart Enlivens all it sees, Can make a wintry sky Seem bright as smiling May, And evening's closing eye The vast majestic globe, So beauteously arrayed A dreary wild at best ; It flutters to depart And longs to be at rest. |