SONG.

WEEPING, murmuring, complaining, Lost to every gay delight;

Myra, too sincere for feigning,

Fears the' approaching bridal night.

Yet why impair thy bright perfection!
Or dim thy beauty with a tear?
Had Myra follow'd my direction,

She long had wanted cause of fear.

SONG,

FROM

THE ORATORIO OF THE CAPTIVITY.

THE wretch, condemn'd with life to part,

Still, still on hope relies;

And every pang that rends the heart

Bids expectation rise.

Hope, like the glimmering taper's light,

Adorns and cheers the way;

And still, as darker grows the night,

Emits a brighter ray.

SONG.

O MEMORY! thou fond deceiver,
Still importunate and vain,

To former joys recurring ever,

And turning all the past to pain;

Thou, like the world, the oppress'd oppressing,
Thy smiles increase the wretch's woe!
And he who wants each other blessing

In thee must ever find a foe.

STANZAS

ON

THE TAKING OF QUEBEC.

AMIDST the clamour of exulting joys,

Which triumph forces from the patriot heart, Grief dares to mingle her soul-piercing voice, And quells the raptures which from pleasures start.

Oh, Wolfe, to thee a streaming flood of woe, Sighing we pay, and think e'en conquest dear; Quebec in vain shall teach our breasts to glow, Whilst thy sad fate extorts the heart-wrung tear.

Alive, the foe thy dreadful vigour fled,

And saw thee fall with joy-pronouncing eyes:

Yet they shall know thou conquerest, though dead! Since from thy tomb a thousand heroes rise.

G

EPITAPH

ON

DR. PARNELL.

THIS tomb, inscribed to gentle Parnell's name,
May speak our gratitude, but not his fame.

What heart but feels his sweetly moral lay,

That leads to truth through pleasure's flowery way!
Celestial themes confess'd his tuneful aid;

And Heaven, that lent him genius, was repaid.
Needless to him the tribute we bestow,

The transitory breath of fame below:

More lasting rapture from his works shall rise,

While converts thank their poet in the skies.