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But thou canst taste no calm delight;

Thy pleasure is to show Thy magnanimity in fight,

Thy prowess—therefore go

I care not whether east or north,

So I no more may find thee; The angry muse thus sings thee forth,

And claps the gate behind thee.

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I RANSACK’d, for a theme of song,
Much ancient chronicle, and long ;
I read of bright embattled fields,
Of trophied helmets, spears, and shields,
Of chiefs, whose single arm could boast
Prowess to dissipate a host;
Through tomes of fable and of dream
I sought an eligible theme,
But none I found, or found them shard
Already by some happier bard.

To modern times, with Truth to guide
My busy search, I next applied ;
Here cities won, and fleets dispers’d,
Urg'd loud a claim to be rehears'd,
Deeds of unperishing renown,
Our father's triumphs and our own.

Thus, as the bee, from bank to bow'r,' Assiduous sips at ev'ry flow'r,


But rests on none, till that be found,
Where most nectareous sweets abound,
So I, from theme to theme display'd
In many a page historic stray'd,
Siege after siege, fight after fight,
Contemplating with small delight,
(For feats of sanguinary hue
Not always glitter in my view ;)
Till, settling on the current year,
I found the far-sought treasure near.
A theme for poetry divine,
A theme ť ennoble even mine,
In memorable eighty nine.

The spring of eighty nine shall be An æra cherish'd long by me, Which joyful I will oft record, And thankful at my frugal board; For then the clouds of eighty eight, That threaten'd England's trembling state With loss of what she least could spare, Her sov’reign's tutelary care, One breath of Heav'n, that cried-Restore ! Chas'd, never to assemble more : And for the richest crown on Earth, If valu'd by it's wearer's worth, The symbol of a righteous reigns Sat fast on George's brows again.

Then peace and joy again possess'd Our Queen's long-agitated breast; Such joy and peace as can be known By suff'rers like herself alone, Who losing, or supposing lost The good on Earth they valu'd most, * 1821 For that dear sorrow's sake forego All hope of happiness below, Then suddenly regain the prize, And Aash thanksgivings to the skies

O Queen of Albion, queen of isles louis
Since all thy tears were chang’d to smiles,
The eyes, that never saw thee, sbine
With joy not unallied to thine, i émist
Transports not chargeable with art
Illume the land's remotest part, (115V
And strangers to the air of courts, yoT
Both in their toils and at their sports,
The happiness of answer'd pray’rsgatadt
That gilds thy features, show in theirs.

mji ** 157
If they, who on thy state attend, nA
Awe-struck, before thy presence bend,
'Tis but the natural effect, y niev ti '
Of grandeur that ensures respect to 10
But she is something more than Queen/?
Who is beloy'd where never seen. 11/4)



Hear, Lord, the song of praise and rray’r,

In Heav'n thy dwelling place,
From infants made the public care,

And taught to seek thy face.

Thanks for thy word, and for thy day,

And grant us, we implore,
Never to waste in sinful play

Thy holy sabbaths more.

Thanks that we hear, but O impart

To each desires sincere,
That we may listen with our heart,

And learn as well as hear.

For if vain thoughts the minds engage

Of older far than we, 1.
What hope that, at our heedless age,

Our minds should e'er be free ? ;

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