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The Negro's complaint,

Pity for poor Africans,

The Morning Dream,

The Nighungale and Glow Worms,

On a Goldfinch starved to death is has caze,

The Pine-apple and the Been

Horace, Book II. Ode X,

A reflection on the foregoing oder

The Lily and the Rose,

Idem Latine Reddituin,

The Poplar field,

Idem Latine Redditum,

Votum,

Translation of Prior's Chloe and Eupbelia,

The history of John Glpin,

Epistle to an afflicted Protestant lady in France,

To the Rev. W. C. Unwin,

To the Rev. Mr. Newton,

Catharina,
The Moralizer corrected,

The Faithful Bird,

The Needless alarm,

Boadicea,

Heroism,

On the receipt of my mother's picture oui of Norfolk,

Friendship,
On a mischievous Bull,

Ânnus Memorabilis, 1769,

Hymn for the use of the Sunday Sablat Olney,

Stanzas subjoined to a bill oi mortality for the year 1787,

The same for 1738,

The same for 1789,

The same for 1790,

The same for 1792

The sarne for 1793,

Epitaph on Mr. Hamilton,

Epitaph on a Hare,

Epitaphium Alierum,

Stanzas on the first publication of Sir Charles Grandison,

Address to Miss — on reading the Prayer for Incifference

A Tale founded on a fact,

To the Rev. Mr. Newton, on his return from Ramsgate,

Poetical epistle to Lady Austen,

Song, written at the request of Lady Austen,

Verses from a poem eniiled Valediction,

Epitaph on Johnson,
To Miss (, on her birth-day,

Gratitude,

The Hatting Mill, -

To Mrs. Throckmorton,

On the late indecent liberties taken with the remains of Milan,

To Mrs. King,

The judgment of the Poets,

Epitaph on Mrs. M. Higgins, of Weston,

The Retired Cat,

To the Nightingale,
Sonnet to W. Wilberforce, Esq.

Epigram,

To Dr. Austin,

Sonnet, aduressed to William Hayley, Esq.

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THE POEMS

он

WILLIAM COWPER, ESQ,

O" THE WXNER TEMPLE.

TABLE TAL K.

Bi te fortè meæ gravis uret sarcina charte,
Abjicita

Hor. Lib. I. Epist. 13,

A. YOU told me, I remember, glory, built On selfish principles, is shame and guilt; The deeds that men admire as half divine, Stark naught, because corrupt in their design. Strange doctrine this! that without scruple tears The laurel, that the very lightning spares; Brings down the warrior's trophy to the dust, And eats into his bloody sword like rust.

B. I grant that, men continuing what they are, Fierce, avaricious, proud, there must be war; And never meant the rule should be applied To him that fights with justice on his side.

Let laurels, drenched in pure Parnassian dews Reward his memory, dear to every muse, Who, with a courage of unshaken root, In Honour's field advancing his firm foot, Plants it upon the line that Justice draws, And will prevail or perish in her cause. "Tis to the virtues of such men, man owes His portion in the good that heaven bestows. And when recording History displays Feats of renown, though wrought in ancient days, Tells of a few stout hearts, that fought and died, Where duty placed them at their country's side ;

The man, that is not moved with what he reads,
That takes not fire at their heroic deeds,
Unworthy of the blessings of the brave,
Is base in kind, and born to be a slave.

But let eternal infamy pursue
The wretch to naught but his ambition true,
Who, for the sake of filling with one blast
The post-horns of all Europe, lays her waste.
Think yourself stationed on a towering rock,
To see a people scattered like a flock,
Some royal mastiff panting at their heels,
With all the savage thirst a tiger feels;
Then view him self-proclaimed in a gazette
Chief monster that has plagued the nations yet;
The globe and sceptre in such hands misplaced,
Those ensigns of dominion, how disgraced !
The glass that bids man mark the fleeting hour,
And Death's own scythe, would better speak his pow'r;
Then grace the bony phantom in their stead
With the king's shoulder-knot and gay cockade
Clothe the twin brethren in each other's dress,
The same their occupation and success.

A. "Tis your belief the world was made for rnan; Kings do but reason on the self-same plan : Maintaining yours, you cannot theirs condemn, Who think, or seem to think, man made for them.

B. Seldom, alas ! the power of logic reigns
With much sufficiency in royal brains;
Such reasoning falls like an inverted cone,
Wanting its proper base to stand upon.
Man made for kings ! those optics are but dim,
That tell you so-say, rather, they for him.
That were indeed a king-ennobling thought,
Could they, or would they, reason as they ought.
The diadem, with mighty projects lined,
To catch renown by ruining mankind,
Is worth, with all its gold and glittering store,
Just what the toy will sell for, and no more.

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