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S T A N ZA S

ON THE

TAKING OF QUEBEC.

AMIDST the clamour of exulting joys,

Which triumph forces from the patriot heart; Grief dares to mingle her foul-piercing voice,

And quells the raptures which from pleasure start.

O Wolfe, to thee a streaming flood of woe,

Sighing we pay, and think e'en conquest dear; Quebec in vain shall teach our breast to glow,

Whilst thy fad fate extorts the heart-wrung tear.

Alive the foe thy dreadful vigour fled,

And saw thee fall with joy-pronouncing eyes : Yet they shall know thou conquerest, though dead!

Since from thy tomb a thousand heroes rise.

ON ON A

BEAUTIFUL YOUTH,

STRUCK BLIND BY

LIGHTNING

SURE 'twas by Providence design’d,

Rather in pity, than in hate,
That he shou'd be, like Cupid, blind,

To save him from Narciffüs' fate.

A SONNET.

A SONNET.

WEEPING, murmuring, complaining,

Loft to every gay delight; Myra, too sincere for feigning,

Fears th' approaching bridal night.

Yet why impair thy bright perfection!

Or dim thy beauty with a tear ? Had Myra follow'd my direction,

She long had wanted cause of fear,

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