ADDRESSED TO WILLIAM WINDHAM, ESQ; OF
FELBRIGG, NORFOLK, 1778.
Mufis amicus, triftitiam & metus
Tradam protervis in mare Creticum
To Windham tune no venal lyre;
His name shall every note inspire,
And confecrate my lays :
Let freedom's fons no more complain,
Again they'll hear his manly ftrain,
And join in heart-felt praife.
Shall Windham fall, in bloom of youth
Endued with genius, knowledge, truth,
Fitted for virtue's thrine?
-O Jebb! appease the fever's ftrife,
(Britain owes you her Glofter's life,)
I'll fing your skill divine.
No more in feftive mirth we fit,
Nor relish humour, wine, or wit,
Slow move the languid hours: Of thee, my friend, alone we speak, Whilst Sorrow dews the pallid cheek, And on each vifage low'rs.
For you the timid blufhing maid
With tenderest wishes fervent pray'd,
(Love every accent wings ;)
But now fhe tunes her grateful voice,
And makes the vocal lyre rejoice,
While rapture wakes the strings.
O born to blefs the common-weal,
To emulate a Keppel's zeal,
In time's proud annals bright;
When each indignant failor rav'd,
And VICTORY's fignals vainly way'd
To call the Recreant Knight:*
I've seen thy Roman fpirit rife,
I've mark'd the light'ning of thine eyes
Along the embattled line:
Ardent, fair freedom's fword to wield,
To lead her offspring to the field,
And like a Hambden fhine
Again we'll turn the claffick page,
Where Greece defies a tyrant's rage,
And foars above control:
Then liberty her fons could charm,
Nerve every hardy Chieftain's arm,
And fire his generous soul.
Townshend *, with quick fenfations bleft,
Will fnatch you to a foldier's breast,
By ancient friendship ty'd ;-
Who knew, who lov'd thy noble fire,
To all his fame fees thee afpire,
And feels a father's pride.
Around you will the patriot band,
With transport throng to prefs your hand,
And mutual welcomes blend :
From Burke the tear of joy will start,
Ca'ndifh will clasp you to his heart,
And Saville hail his friend.
*Lord Viscount Townfhend.
[For the ODES to Sir JAMES LOWTHER and GENERAL ARNOLD, by the fame, vide Vol. IV. pages 232 and 259.]
ADDRESSED TO THE GENIUS OF SCOTLAND.
WEEP Scotia, weep, and thy hard fate deplore,
Since dire Rebellion quits thy fmiling fhore:
Around her standard stubborn Yankies fight,
And rob North Britons of their ancient right:
Who in full chorus lift their voice and fing,
"Scotchmen alone fhould fight against their
SCOTCH LOYALTY, ALWAYS THE SAME.
SCOTCHMEN are virtual rebels their own way,
They fhun the camp, but in the court betray;
Of force and fraud vile Sawney bears the feed,
The down and prickles of his native wced.
ADDRESSED TO LORD GE GN, ON
HIS APPROACHING DISSOLUTION.
My Lord, to celebrate your praise,
Your perishable fame to raise,
And brighten S―――'s name :
My flowing numbers wildly great,
Shall speak your merit-now compleat!
Refifting more than fhame.
Alas! how callous to this wound,
No fpark of honour to be found,
Within your cankred heart :
Yet still to keep your naufeous breath,
Survive a sentence worse than death,
Out-plays a traitor's part!
Yes! History's remotest page,
To Britons with indignant rage,
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