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"His truth I deem'd so great, my foolish heart
"Bore in his griefs a more than equal part;
"Did he but sigh, or feel the slightest pain,

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My aching bosom throbb'd in every vein; "His will was mine; each moment to employ "In pleasing him, became my only joy:

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"The voice of heav'n alone could then have mov'd My mind to censure what his choice approv'd. Thus smiling love his dearest blessings shed, "And two short years in mutual transport fled; "While judging from his fond behaviour past, "I vainly thought the flatt'ring scene would last : "But fickle fortune destin'd me to prove,

"As well the torments, as delights of love.

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My lover feign'd that he must leave his home, "Constrain'd by fate, in foreign realms to roam: "You need not ask what terrors seiz'd my heart, "But guess those feelings words can ne'er impart : "Alas! the sport of cruel destiny,

"I felt the pangs of death, though yet forbid to die. "At length, one fatal day he took his leave; "While I, who heard him speak, and saw him grieve "At his departure, thought his tears as true "As those which almost chok'd my last adieu! "But since his honour summon'd him away, "And Reason told me, that he must obey "Her potent call; that sorrow was in vain, "And he wou'd soon review his home again; "I strove my swelling anguish to conceal, "And feign'd a courage which I did not feel, "And fondly press'd his hand, repeating o'er "Those vows of truth I oft had sworn before. "What he reply'd I shall not now rehearse; "In speech none better, or in action worse.

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"So forth he flew, and hasten'd on his way,
"Till weariness, or pleasure, bade him stay
"His rapid course; for sure he bore in anind,
"The proverb,
every creature loves its kind.'
"Thus men have written, men too prone to range,
"And vary merely for the love of change.
"As silly birds, with care in cages bred,

"Lodg'd on soft down, with choicest viands fed,
"Which seem your proffer'd kindness to disdain,
"While sugar, bread, and milk, allure in vain;
"If they by chance espy an open door,
"O'erturn their cup upon the sanded floor,
"Leave their warm cage, and hasten to the wood,
"To feed on worms, and such like homely food;
"And pleas'd with change of fare, delighted roam,
Forgetful of their breeding and their home;
"E'en so this falcon, though of gentle kind,
"In manner graceful, and in sense refin'd;
"Debas'd by vice, forsakes my nest, to share
"His love among the commoners of air;
"And now a hateful kite his fancy charms,

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"And for her loath'd embrace he slights these arms; "His plighted faith-his love from me is flown, "And I am left to weep, and die alone.”

With that, again she rais'd her mournful cries,

Again she swooning fell, and clos'd her streaming eyes. As Canace in her soft bosom laid,

The mournful damsels gath'ring round, survey'd
Her wretched plight, and with endearments strove
To sooth the grief they knew not to remove.

But Canace with gentlest care sustain'd
The unhappy bird, until she now regain'd

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The palace gate; prepar'd to plaister o'er
Her ghastly wounds, and staunch the oozing gore,
Where'er her tortur'd flesh with furious beak she tore.
Now the fair princess made it all her care
From herbs and roots a med'cine to prepare,
To heal her patient's wounds; from morn till night
This pleasing labour form'd her sole delight.
Within her chamber she contriv'd a mew,
And lin'd with velvet of unchanging blue,
Denoting female truth; without was seen,
Display'd with art, upon a ground of green,
Of titmice, hawks, and owls, a num'rous train,
Who vows of truth and constancy disdain:
With pies surrounded, to proclaim aloud
Their acts of folly to the list'ning crowd.
And thus I leave fair Canace, to heal
The wounded falcon, nor shall more reveal
About the magic king, till I explain
How the said hawk obtain'd her love again,
Assisted in the task by Cambal bold;
As in the sequel of my tale is told.
But now I turn, adventures to recite,
Ne'er heard before, and many a bloody fight.
Yet first, I sing Cambuscan's high renown,
And many a city by his arms o'erthrown.
Then the exploits of valiant Algarsife,
Who won fair Theodora to his wife;
For whose dear love he many a peril brav'd,
Oft by the brazen steed from slaughter sav'd.
Next shall I speak of Cambal, who, to gain
Fair Canace's release, upon the plain
O'ercame two brethren, who in arms had strove
To seize the princess, and to force her love.

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LINES

Addressed to his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, Patron of the Literary Fund.

BY CHARLES MARSH, ESQ.

RECITED AT THE MEETING OF THE SIETY AT GREENWICH, JUNE 21, 1804.

GAY child of ease! on whose protected head
The genial beams of favouring Fate are shed;
O'er whose soft path, begirt with many a flower,
No pale star frowns, nor sullen storm-clouds lower;
Go, child of ease, and visit the sad cell,

Where Want and Care with starving Genius dwell!
He does not speak, nor with imploring sigh
Ask the cold gift of passing Charity.

From his fixt eye no gushing tear-drops start;
For all is still and dead around his heart.
He does not weep; for black Despair has dried
The sacred fount that feeds the generous tide.

Say, hast thou wept when to thy musing eye
The prostrate heaps of crumbling glories lie;
Wandering with pensive step the hideous waste
Of plains, that once gay, murmuring cities grac'd;
Where Art once bade the sculptur'd column rise,
And the tall turret fade into the skies;

And hast thou mourn'd, when sunk and fall'n around The broken arch ignobly strew'd the ground;

Yet shall thy heart no gentle sorrow find
For the sad ruins of the human mind?

The aspiring soul, by Want's cold hand destroy'd,
And all her bright creations drear and void?

Nurs'd by the Muse, who rock'd him to repose, nd sweetly sang to rest his cradled woes, As with a mother's pride she lov'd to trace The opening blossom of the promis'd grace; And o'er his couch with wrapt attention hung, These sweet presagings trembled from her tongue : "From every dross of vulgar joy refined, "The Muse to rich delights hath rear'd thy mind! "Unlock'd for thee behold the sacred mines "Where dipt in heaven the gem of Fancy shines; "Go let thy wandering eyes the scenes explore "Where Nature spreads for man her boundless store; Range o'er the circle, where with cheerful hue "The green earth bursts rejoicing on thy view; "Fresh blooming fields where the soft Zephyr flings "A balmy incense from his dewy wings; "The hoary head-land's dim retired height, "The distant promontory's fading light;

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"The last pale beam, when Nature sinks to rest, "That slowly lingers on the ocean's breast. "While to thy vision Fancy's art supplies "A world of tints unseen of vulgar eyes.' "Charm'd by thy shell, mute crowds shall gather round,

"And smile and tremble at the alternate sound, "As thro' each maze thy winding numbers rove, "Now sing the bliss, and now the pangs of love, "Or, as thy big inspirings wildly roll,

"A martial tempest to the fevered soul."

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