ON THE QUESTION, &c.

Ere THEN Jehovah lov3d-O love immense ! How high its FOUNT! how deep its source! 'Tis $ free sad of ziara Fot, FT VU 'Tis full-how vain are words! conception's

BEHOLD, the tiger's near the blood starts back,

And hides itself within the heart. His eyes Look death. Insatiate as the grave, he flies! Through all the lanes of life, athirst for blood. High on his heart, sits cruelty enthron'd,

Breaks down the sluices of the purple stream, Drinks up the crimson flood of wild and tame; And drinking fir'd, he eager thirsts for more: Blindly infuriate, spares not e'n his own, With blood progenial stain❜d.

GEORGE THE THIRD,

THE

SOVEREIGN OF BRITAIN.

A Briton born, the pride of Britons he, Beneath his wing, the rights of conscience free; Himself a mirror, whose reflected rays,

Gilds the domestic scene of lengthen'd days; Religion owns him as her genuine son,

Wipes the big tear, and heav'n receives him home.

T

Made with an eye to a holy Father, drunken with the
Blood of the Saints.

P--LAGUE of the earth, in superstition drown'd;
Oppressive, bloody, furious, tripple crown'd;
P--eter contrasts thee with his Master mild;

E--'n Satan loathes thee, though his elder child.

THE

DOWNFALL OF BUONAPARTE.

THE dreadful conflicts o'er. Th' ensanguin'd Plain

Of Waterloo, no more shall deeply drink The British and the Prussian blood. The Earth Receives her dead, and sighs for rest. The Man, Who kingdoms shook, who made the Earth to tremble,

How fall'n! No longer Victor thou, Oh! no, Torn from thy back the robe of tyrian die, Blazing with interwoven gold, that spoke n' Those mighty deeds, which laid the nations low, And made e'en earth to quake. The diadem