But Kempenfelt is gone,
His victories are o'er;
And he and his eight hundred,
Shall plough the wave no more.
IN SUBMERSIONEM NAVIGII, CUI GEORGIUS REGALE NOMEN, INDITUM.
PLANGIMUS fortes. Perière fortes,
Patrium propter periêre littus
Bis quatèr centum ; subitò sub alto
Æquore mersi.
Navis, innitens lateri, jacebat,
Malus ad summas trepidabat undas,
Cùm levis, funes quatiens, ad imum
Depulit aura.
Plangimus fortes. Nimis, heu, caducam
Fortibus vitam voluêre parcæ,
Nec sinunt ultrà tibi nos recentes
Nectere laurus.
Magne, qui nomen, licèt incanorum,
Traditum ex multis atavis tulisti!
At tuos olim memorabit ævum
Omne triumphos.
Non hyems illos furibunda mersit,
Non mari in clausó scopuli latentes,
Fissa non rimis abies, nec atrox
Abstulit ensis.
Navitæ sed tum nimium jocosi
Voce fallebant hilari laborem,
Et quiescebat, calamoque dextram im-
pleverat heros.
Vos, quibus cordi est grave opus piumque
Humidum ex alto spolium levate,
Et putrescentes sub aquis amicos
Reddite amicis !
Hi quidem (sic dîs placuit) fuêre:
Sed ratis, nondùm putris, ire possit
Rursùs in bellum, Britonumque nomen
Tollere ad astra.
WRITTEN IN THE SUMMER OF 1783, at the REQUEST OF LADY AUSTEN, WHO GAVE THE SENTIMENT.
Air-"My fond shepherds of late," &c.
No longer I follow a sound;
No longer a dream I pursue : O happiness! not to be found, Unattainable treasure adieu !
I have sought thee in splendour and dress,
In the regions of pleasure and taste;
I have sought thee, and seem'd to possess,
But have proved thee a vision at last.
An humble ambition and hope
The voice of true wisdom inspires;
Tis sufficient, if Peace be the scope,
And the summit of all our desires.
Peace may be the lot of the mind
That seeks it in meekness and love;
But rapture and bliss are confin'd
To the glorified spirits above.
Air" The Lass of Pattie's Mill."
When all within is peace,
How nature seems to smile!
Delights that never cease,
The live-long day beguile.
From morn to dewy eve,
With open hand she showers
Fresh blessings to deceive,
And soothe the silent hours.
It is content of heart
Gives nature power to please;
The mind that feels no smart,
Enlivens all it sees;
Can make a wint'ry sky
Seem bright as smiling May,
And evening's closing eye
As peep of early day.
The vast majestic globe,
So beauteously array'd
In nature's various robe,
With wond'rous skill display'd,
* Also written at the request of Lady Austen.
Is to a mourner's heart
A dreary wild at best;
It flutters to depart,
And longs to be at rest.
SELECTED FROM AN OCCASIONAL POEM, ENTITLED
OH Friendship! Cordial of the human breast
So little felt, so fervently profess'd!
Thy blossoms deck our unsuspecting years;
The promise of delicious fruit appears :
We hug the hopes of constancy and truth,
Such is the folly of our dreaming youth;
But soon, alas! detect the rash mistake
That sanguine inexperience loves to make;
And view with tears th' expected harvest lost,
Decay'd by time, or wither'd by a frost,
Whoever undertakes a friend's great part
Should be renew'd in nature, pure in heart,
Prepared for martyrdom, and strong to prove
A thousand ways the force of genuine love.
He may be call'd to give up health and gain,
T'exchange content for trouble, ease for pain,
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