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Already tofs'd on boift'rous seas,
His object was domestic ease;

Not all the smiles of court,
Not all that lavish princes give,
Or greedy favourites receive,

Could tempt him out of port.

But, by the will of adverse fate,
When foul rebellion shook the state,

And poison'd half the realm ;
No luke-warm prudence cou'd controul
The patriot spirit of his soul;

He boldly grasp'd the helm.

He only heard his country's call,
Eafe, comfort, quiet, safety, all

That wisdom's thought to teach,
Submitted to the vast defire
To keep the empire ftill entire,

Or perish in the breach.

AN AN ODE OF CONDOLENCE,

ADDRESSED TO LORD GEGM-E.

By the Author of the Congratulatory Ode.

(See page 109.)

My Lord, you're hạrt by foolish praise ;
At yon vile sycophants dull lays,

Indignant blushes rise !
They add superfluous disgrace ;

Your friend with honey daubs your face,
To drive away the flies !

Did Ferdinando ever mutter,
" You robb'd your babes of bread and butter,"

Or lov'd domestic strife! .
-Sacred you keep the marriage tie,
And never cast a wanton eye
On female- -but

your wife.

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DARTMOUTH, 'tis true, had left his poft ;
'Ere all America was loft,
He callid for

your assistance ; Your character the faint surprises, For higher still your courage rises,

As danger's at a diftance !

But

But fince your Lordship’s at the helm,
You'd scarcely save both King and Realm,

Were Rebels on the borders !
RICHMOND and SHELBURNE must knock under,
The ministry may safely blunder,

You'll folve discordant orders.

One truth, at last, our statesmen feel,
That rebel Yankies fcorn to kneel,

To this or t'other Lord;
DARTMOUTH sings penitential psalms,
G-RME resumes his Minden qualms,

And drops his wooden sword.

Early in BRAG's * your courage shone,
And Fontenoy first made you known ;

-Expos'd your timid heart;
You dar'd the field, and honour died;
Callous to shame-you rose in pride,

To play a traitor's part.

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In twenty odes your acts I?ll fing,
How you traduc'd the fame of Byng,

Be,

• His Lordship was then Licateqant-Colonel to Brag's Regiment,

-Betray'd your high command :
You pleaded Clergy to the crime,
Yet still the Muse with caustic rhime,

Shall burn your trembling hand !

:

The laurel wither'd on your head,
We'll wreathe the olive in its stead :

And when you're mixt with dust,
Your tomb shall boast a secret spell,
The German tongue your deeds shall tell,

-Yon Alpin form your bust!

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I.
My Lord, to celebrate your praise,
Your perishable fame to raise,

And brighten Siwo's name :
My Aowing numbers wildly great,
Shall speak your merit-now compleat!
Relifting more than shame.

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II.

Afas !' how callous to this wound,
No spark of honour to be found,

Within your cancred heart :
Yet still to keep your nauseous breath,
Survive a sentence worse than death,

Out-plays a traitor's part!

III.

Yes! History's remotest page,
To Britons with indignant rage,

Shall make your fame revive :
When you diffolve in crumbling duft,
And moulded clay shall form your bust,

Then S---Lle's name shall live!

IV.

Your victories shall marble

grace, Your German trophies we shall trace,

Display'd o'er Minden's plain :
While Fame revers’d *, her trumpet sounds,
Reclining honour counts her wounds,
Departing in disdain.

V.

* The fagacious reader will easily discover, that the pofie tion of fame alludes to Hudibras's description of that double-mouthed goddess.

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