And, when the TYRANT, with unhallow'd pow'r, And bend the free-born soul Where dwells the spirit but would joy to dare Hurl fierce Ambition from his glittering car, And mock the vain assail of unattemper'd sway. HARMODIUS. BRISTOL, JUNE 4, 1803. FROM ANACREON. GAY Bacchus o'er my festive head, See, see! what angel forms advance, All, all were fair,-beyond comparing But whilst I revel on her charms, I wake and am alone! G. TO DOCTOR THORNTON. THORNTON, while polish'd DARWIN tells, Thy garden of perpetual bloom No change of threatening skies can fear; Nor dashing rains, nor chilling blasts, Can reach the lovely fav'rites here. Bright Tulipa in form as fair As on the lap of Nature shines; Whether in Asia's sun-bright soil The nymph her crimson chalice rears, Or 'mid Batavia's fost'ring clime In every added charm appears. Here view august, in conscious pride, There Cerea, rich in countless charms, Behold in realms of endless spring Here, floating to the evening air, Nature well pleas'd at Art's success, And Flora with approving smile Shall twine her choicest wreaths for thee. DR. G. SHAW. TO ROSINA. I DREAMT, that on thy lovely face I gaz'd (thine eyes no more retreating), And wildly snatch'd thee to my breast, With hope, with fear, with transport beating. These eyes that saw thee in that dream, CYRUS. THE WORM OF THE STILL. BY DR. DRENNAN. I HAVE found what the Learn'd seem so puzzled to tell, Of all his migrations this last he likes best, Here, he joys to transform, by his magical spell, By his Water of Life, what distraction and fear! Then, prone on the earth, they adore in the dust, ! With drams it begins, and with drams it must end, A dram is his Country, his Mistress, his Friend, Then his opify'd heart hates itself at the last, And a dram nerves his hand for the death-doing blast. Mark that mother, that monster, that shame, and that curse, See her child hang, dead drunk, at the breast of its nurse, As it drops from the arm, mark her stupefy'd stare! "Till she wakes with a yell, and a laugh of despair. Is this the civility promis'd our nation? This the UNION, dissolv'd in a cup of damnation, Drink, ERIN, drink deep, from this crystalline round, No frenzy for freedom to flash o'er the brain, Nor boast that no track of the viper is seen, DUBLIN, 1802. |