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Then let the boobies stay at home;'
"Twould cost him, I dare say, Less trouble taking twice the sum,
Without the clowns that pay.
SONNET ADDRESSED TO HENRY COWPER, ESQ. On his emphatical and interesting delivery of the Defence of Warren
Hastings, Esq. in the House of Lords. CowPER, whose silver voice, task'd sometimes hard,
Legends prolix delivers in the ears
(Attentive when thou read'st) of England's peers, Let verse at length yield thee thy just reward, Thou wast not heard with drowsy disregard,
Expending late on all that length of plea Thy gen'rous pow'rs; but silence honour'd thee, Mute as e'er gaz’d on orator or bard. Thou art not voice alone, but hast beside Both heart and head; and couldst with music sweet
Of Attic phrase and senatorial tone, Like thy renown’d forefathers, far and wide Thy fame diffuse, prais'd not for utt’rance meet
Of others' speech, but magic of thy own.
Author of “ The Botanic Garden."
Not oft so well agree),
Conspire to honour Thee,
Who oft themselves have known
By labours of their own. * Alluding to the poem by Mr. Hayley, which accompanied these lines
We, therefore, pleas'd extol thy song,
Though various yet complete,
And learned as 'tis sweet.
Though, could our hearts repine
They would—they must at thine.
Of friendship’s closest tie,
With an unjaundic'd eye;
And howsoe:er known,
Unworthy of his own.
MRS. MONTAGU’S FEATHER-HANGINGS.
The Peacock sends his heav'nly dyes,
It boasts a splendour ever new,
To the same patroness resort,
She thus maintains divided sway
VERSES Supposed to be written by Alexander Selkirk, during his solitary
abode in the island of Juan Fernandez. I am monarch of all I survey,
My right there is none to dispute ; From the centre all round to the sea,
I am lord of the fowl and the brute. 0, Solitude ! where are the charms
That sages have seen in thy face? Better dwell in the midst of alarms,
Than reign in this horrible place. I am out of humanity's reach,
I must finish my journey alone, Never hear the sweet music of speech,
I start at the sound of my own. The beasts, that roam over the plain,
My form with indifference see; They are so unacquainted with man,
Their tameness is shocking to me, Society, friendship, and love,
Divinely bestow'd upon man, 0, had I the wings of a dove,
How soon would I taste you again! My sorrows I then might assuage
In the ways of religion and truth, Might learn from the wisdom of age,
Ånd be cheer'd by the sallies of youth. Religion! what treasure untold
Resides in that heavenly word!
Or all that this earth can afford.
These valleys and rocks never heard,
Or smil'd when a sabbath appear'd.