Imatges de pÓgina

Thus I sung when Chloe's eyes
Made my vanquish'd heart their prize,
Where's my passion now to range, -
Love of Freedomy love of Change.

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Ere Sol dispels the wintry cold,
And with thy silver leaves display'd

Spread luftre through the dreary glade.--
What though no frgarance like the rose
Tincturing the Zephyr as it blows,

Thy humble flowers from earth exhale

To scent the pinions of the gale;

What though no hues of gaudy dye
Strike with their dazzling charms the eye,

Nor does thy fober foliage shew

Each blended tint of Iris' bow;

Yet in thy meek unsullied grace
Imagination's eye shall trace
The glowing blossoms that appear
Proudly to paint the vernal year,
And smiling Mara's blushing dyes,

And jocund Summer's cloudless skies,

And Autumn's labors which succeed

To bid the purple vintage bleed,
Our hopes anticipating fee
Led on in radiant train by thee.



Written in the Year 1779, when the COMBINSD


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« Muft we,' they cry,

• so long who dwelt · On this wave-cin&ur'd steep,

• Who each rude blast unshrinking felt

· That heaves the ATLANTIC deep,

• Muft • Must we forsake these folemn shades

« 'To distant regions driven,

• Or view expos'd our forest glades

To every beam of heaven ?

« But ah! what horrid scenes are these!

« Lo BOURBON's hoftile train

· Here spread their canvas to the breeze,

< And darken half the main :

• BRITANNIA's bloody cross no more

• Aloft triumphant flies, • For see by this infulted fhore

« The Gallic lilies rise!

Speed then, oh speed your eager toil! « And on this lofty steep

• Tear every sapling from the foil

« And launch them on the deep.

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