ΤΟ

THE BOSTON FRIGATE,*

ON

LEAVING HALIFAX FOR ENGLAND,

OCTOBER, 1804.

ΝΟΣΤΟΥ ΠΡΟΦΑΣΙΣ ΓΛΥΚΕΡΟΥ.

Pindar. Pyth. 4:

WITH triumph this morning, O Boston! I hail
The stir of thy deck and the spread of thy sail,
For they tell me I soon shall be wafted, in thee,
To the flourishing isle of the brave and the free,
And that bleak Nova-Scotia's unpromising strand†
Is the last I shall tread of American land.

* Commanded by Captain J. E. Douglas, with whom I returned to England, and to whom I am indebted for many, many kindnesses. In truth, I should but offend the delicacy of my friend Douglas, and, at the same time, do injustice to my own feelings of gratitude, did I attempt to say how much I owe to him.

† Sir John Wentworth, the Governor of Nova-Scotia, very kindly allowed me to accompany him on his visit to the College, which they have lately established at Windsor, about forty miles from Halifax, and

Well-peace to the land! may the people, at length,
Know that freedom is bliss, but that honour is strength;
That, though man have the wings of the fetterless wind,
Of the wantonest air that the north can unbind,
Yet, if health do not sweeten the blast with her bloom,
Nor virtue's aroma its pathway perfume,

Unblest is the freedom, and dreary the flight,
That but wanders to ruin, and wantons to blight!

Farewel to the few I have left with regret ;
May they sometimes recal, what I cannot forget,
That communion of heart and that parley of soul,
Which have lengthen'd our nights and illumin'd our bowl,
When they've ask'd me the manners, the mind or the mien
Of some bard I had known, or some chief I had seen,
Whose glory, though distant, they long had ador'd,
Whose name often hallow'd the juice of their board!
And still as, with sympathy humble but true,

I told them each luminous trait that I knew,
They have listen'd, and sigh'd that the powerful stream
Of America's empire should pass, like a dream,
Without leaving one fragment of genius, to say
How sublime was the tide which had vanish'd away!

I was indeed most pleasantly surprised by the beauty and fertility of the country which opened upon us after the bleak and rocky wilderness by which Halifax is surrounded....I was told that, in travelling onwards, we should find the soil and the scenery improve; and it gave me much pleasure to know that the worthy Governor has by no means such an "pamabile regnum" as I was, at first sight, inclined to believe.

Farewer to the few-though we never may meet
On this planet again, it is soothing and sweet
To think that, whenever my song or my name
Shall recur to their ear, they'll recal me the same
I have been to them now, young, unthoughtful and blest,
Ere hope had deceiv'd me, or sorrow deprest!

But, DOUGLAS! while thus I endear to my mind
The elect of the land we shall soon leave behind,
I can read in the weather-wise glance of thine eye,
As it follows the rack flitting over the sky,

That the faint coming breeze will be fair for our flight,
And shall steal us away, ere the falling of night.
Dear DOUGLAS! thou knowest, with thee by my side,
With thy friendship to soothe me, thy courage to guide,
There is not a bleak isle in those summerless seas,
Where the day comes in darkness or shines but to freeze,
Not a tract of the line, not a barbarous shore,
That I could not with patience, with pleasure explore!
Oh! think then how happy I follow thee now,
When hope smooths the billowy path of our prow,
And each prosperous sigh of the west-springing wind
Takes me nearer the home where my heart is inshrin'd;
Where the smile of a father shall meet me again,
And the tears of a mother turn bliss into pain;
Where the kind voice of sisters shall steal to my heart,
And ask it, in sighs, how we ever could part!-

But see!-the bent top-sails are ready to swell-
To the boat-I am with thee-Columbia farewel!

ΤΟ

LADY H*

ON

AN OLD RING FOUND AT TUNBRIDGE-WELLS.

«Tunnebrige est à la même distance de Londres, que Fontainebleau "l'est de Paris. Ce qu'il y a de beau et de galant dans l'un et dans "l'autre sexe s'y rassemble au tems des eaux. La compagnie,

"&c. &c."

See Mémoires de Grammont, Second Part. Chap. iii.

Tunbridge-Wells, August, 1805.

WHEN Grammont grac'd these happy springs,

And Tunbridge saw, upon her Pantiles,

The merriest wight of all the kings

That ever rul'd these gay gallant isles;

Like us, by day, they rode, they walk'd;

At eve, they did as we may do;

And Grammont just like Spencer talk'd,

And lovely Stewart smil'd like you!

The only different trait is this,
That woman then, if man beset her,
Was rather given to saying "yes,"
Because, as yet, she knew no better!.

Each night they held a coterie,

Where every fear to slumber charm'd, Lovers were all they ought to be,

And husbands not the least alarm'd!

They call'd

up all their school-day pranks, Nor thought it much their sense beneath To play at riddles, quips and cranks,

And lords shew'd wit, and ladies teeth.

As-"Why are husbands like the Mint?"
Because, forsooth, a husband's duty
Is just to set the name and print
That give a currency to beauty.

"Why is a garden's wilder'd maze
Like a young widow, fresh and fair?"

Because it wants some hand to raise

The weeds, which "have no business there!"

And thus they miss'd, and thus they hit,

And now they struck, and now they parried,

And some lay-in of full-grown wit,

While others of a pun miscarried.