A SONNET WEEPING, murmuring, complaining, Fears th' approaching bridal night. Yet, why impair thy bright perfection? 5 STANZAS ON THE TAKING OF QUEBEC, AND DEATH OF 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. O WOLFE! to thee a streaming flood of woe, 5 Sighing we pay, and think e'en conquest dear; QUEBEC in vain shall teach our breast 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: 10 Yet they shall know thou conquerest, though deadSince from thy tomb a thousand heroes rise! AN ELEGY ON THAT GLORY OF HER SEX, GOOD people all, with one accord, The needy seldom pass'd her door, Who left a pledge behind. She strove the neighbourhood to please, Unless when she was sinning. At church, in silks and satins new, But when she shut her eyes. Her love was sought, I do aver, By twenty beaux and more; 5 ΙΟ 15 The king himself has follow'd her,- 20 But now her wealth and finery fled, Her hangers-on cut short all; The doctors found, when she was dead, Her last disorder mortal. Let us lament, in sorrow sore, For Kent-street well may say, That had she liv'd a twelve-month more, She had not died to-day. 25 DESCRIPTION OF AN AUTHOR'S BEDCHAMBER WHERE the Red Lion flaring o'er the way, Invites each passing stranger that can pay; 5 Where Calvert's butt, and Parsons' black champagne, ΤΟ With beer and milk arrears the frieze was scor'd, 20 ON SEEING MRS. ** PERFORM IN THE 5 FOR you, bright fair, the nine address their lays, And rocks forgot their hardness at the sound. And felt her charms, without disguise, within. OF THE DEATH OF THE RIGHT HON.*** YE Muses, pour the pitying tear For Pollio snatch'd away; O! had he liv'd another year!— O! were he born to bless mankind, In virtuous times of yore, Heroes themselves had fallen behind !— How sad the groves and plains appear, And sympathetic sheep; Even pitying hills would drop a tear!- His bounty in exalted strain 5 ΤΟ Each bard might well display; Since none implor'd relief in vain! 15 That went reliev'd away. And hark! I hear the tuneful throng His obsequies forbid, He still shall live, shall live as long! As ever dead man did. 20 |