SONG. WEEPING, murmuring, complaining, Lost to ev'ry gay delight; Myra, too sincere for feigning, Fears th' 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 ev'ry pang that rends the heart, Bids expectation rise. Hope, like the glimm'ring 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, To former joys recurring ever, And turning all the past to pain; Thou, like the world, th' opprest 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. EPITAPH ON DR. PARNELL. THIS tomb, inscrib'd to gentle Parnell's name, What heart but feels his sweetly-moral lay, The transitory breath of fame below: More lasting rapture from his works shall rise, While converts thank their poet in the skies |