Juvenile poems on various subjects :: :: University of Virginia Library

On a soft bank, wrapt in the gloomy groves,
(Thro' which Ohio's ever rolling wave,
Unaw'd by moons, meandring wildly roves,
And sweetly murm'ring seems to mourn the brave;)

II.

Britannia sad reclin'd, and o'er their Grave
Surcharg'd with grief her azure eyes did move,
Her plaint was aided by the mournful wave,
And Zephyr to return her sigh still strove.

III.

Her spear and laurel-wreath aside were thrown,
The big round pearly drops each other trace
From her bright eyes in gushing torrents down,
And wash'd the roses from her beauteous face.

IV.

“Ah! why, (then cry'd the bright angelic Maid)
“Why is my breast a prey to foul despair?
“It is but folly thus to mourn the dead,
“No longer then I'll idly loiter here.

V.

“I'll seek where Victory her seat doth rear,
“And all around her pow'rful influence spread,
“She yet perhaps may listen to my pray'r,
“And grant revenge for ev'ry gallant Shade.”

VI.

Then spread her snowy wings, and sought the skies,
A lucent path proclaim'd the Goddess' flight;
So thro' the air the streaming lightning flies,
And leaves behind a dreadful blaze of light.

VII.

Above where Morning decks the lovely East
With the deep beauties of the Virgin's glow,
On her bright way Britannia swiftly prest,
And left the busy worlds to roll below.

VIII.

And soon she gain'd the vast amazing height,
And soon the shining Palace she espies,
The massy Gates wide op'ning, gave the bright
Celestial Beauty to her wond'ring eyes.

IX.

Rude was the Structures front, and round was heard
The groans of anguish echoing thro' the gloom,
Within bright majesty and grace appear'd,
And sounds of triumph shook the spacious Dome.

X.

Horror was Porter, with a ghastly stare
His eye-brows rais'd, his mouth was open'd wide,
A hideous Concave! but no tongue was there,
For speech to him the angry Pow'rs deny'd.

XI.

The next grim Death was plac'd, and by his side
Pale shiv'ring Fear, and ever writhing Pain,
His Sister that, and this his gloomy Bride,
Hung on his hand a dreadful hellish Train.

XII.

Clad in deep sables Sorrow did appear,
All wan and ghastly with dejected eye,
Eager she treasur'd ev'ry Widow's tear,
And number'd ev'ry helpless Orphan's sigh.

XIII.

High on her shining seat was Victory plac'd,
Sweet were her smiles, but dreadful was her frown,
Her left hand with the spreading palm was grac'd,
And in her right she held the Victor's crown.

XIV

One perfect Ruby was her glitt'ring throne,
Gold were th' ascending steps, but smear'd with blood,
Close by her side bright laurel'd Glory shone,
And Fame with her loud sounding Trumpet stood.

XV.

Slav'ry, fast bound to her triumphant car,
In anguish gnash'd her teeth, and shook her chain,
While Liberty aloft, pois'd in the air,
With pitying eye beheld the Miscreant's pain.

XVI.

Behind brisk Jollity, in frolick mood,
With the full Bowl, and crown'd with grapes, was shown,
The Muse, e'er grateful to the brave and good,
Struck the soft Lyre with sweetness all her own.

XVII.

And now, the last of all this varied throng,
Sweet Peace was by her branching Olive known,
Smiling, with easy steps she swept along,
Nor e'er deform'd her beauties with a frown.

XVIII.

Around the wall, in curious niches plac'd,
The imag'd Heroes sternly frown'd in gold,
Each warlike arm a polish'd Falchin grac'd,
Their brows were honor'd with the Laurel's fold.

XIX.

Or those who grac'd the happier days of old,
Who to the heav'ns their envied names had rais'd,
Or those whom later ages had enroll'd,
On the bright list in shining armour blaz'd.

XX.

Prussia, great Monarch! whom no fate can move,
Superior 'bove the glorious Train appear'd,
In all the terrors of another Jove,
While the dread bolt his sable Eagle rear'd.

XXI.

Next Ferdinand; who calm the War surveys,
Serenity e'er gilds his princely breast,
So Neptune skims along the troubl'd waves,
And smiling bids old Ocean be at rest.

XXII.

O'er the bright pavement now, with eager haste,
(To where great Victory triumphant shone,
Rais'd on her glitt'ring seat) Britannia prest,
And humbly bow'd before her awful throne.

XXIII.

Then thus she spoke, (but 'ere she speech could gain,
She dropt fresh tears, and heav'd some poignant sighs)
“Oh! brightest thou of the celestial train,
“Ador'd by Man, and fav'rite of the Skies!

XXIV.

“Once was I blest, when o'er my infant days
“Well pleas'd you smil'd, and rear'd me up to fame,
“Then did I wanton in thy glorious blaze,
“And distant Nations trembl'd at my name!

XXV.

“Then to my sway was Gallia forc'd to yield,
“In vain she call'd her num'rous armies forth;
“Cressy and Poitiers, and the glorious field
“Of Agincourt, proclaim'd my Britons worth.

XXVI.

“But now in vain, forsook by heav'n and Thee,
“In vain they strive, their courage all is vain;
“Tho' the dear prize is Fame and Liberty,
“They see triumphant Slaves, and dread the chain.

XXVII.

“For pity (thou, who with a Mother's care,
“Hung o'er my youth) propitious lend thy aid;
“Their baleful heads, see the pale Lilies rear,
“While my lov'd Roses mourning droop and fade!”

XXVIII.

She ceas'd, nor could she more, distressing woe
Her utt'rance stopt, and cut the moving Tale,
Down her pale cheeks the briny torrents flow,
Nor Hope could o'er her strength'ning Fears prevail.

XXIX.

Then Vict'ry thus, “Oh! thou, my Joy and Pride!
“Near to my heart, and fav'rite of my train,
“Thou wouldst not thus have mourn'd had heav'n comply'd,
“Nor had thy gallant Britons toil'd in vain.

XXX.

“But now new laurels wait to grace thy brow,
“And heav'n appeas'd, a chearing ray shall give,
“Thy glory then another dawn shall know,
“Thy pow'r again, and all thy joys revive.

XXXI.

“Thy Fleets, the lordly Sovereigns of the Sea,
“Shall bear from thee the terrors of the war,
“While Gallia pale, and trembling with dismay,
“Shall shrink to view thy Navy from afar.

XXXII.

“Soon Canada shall own thy pow'rful sway,
“Yet bleeding Conquest here will ask the tear,
“Like noble Decius, thy brave Chief must pay
“His life a victim for his Country here.”

XXXIII.

She said, and while Britannia humbly bow'd,
Bid willing Fame her silver trumpet sound,
Britannia's name rung thro' the vaults aloud,
And Echo gave it to the heav'ns around!

General Wolfe.