« AnteriorContinuar »
S T A N ZA S
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
STRUCK BLIND BY
SURE 'twas by Providence design’d,
Rather in pity, than in hate,
To save him from Narciffüs' fate.
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,