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On a public Collection made for the distress'd Remains of the Inniskillen and Derry Men. Inscrib'd to the Right Honourable the Lord Tullamore.
 

On a public Collection made for the distress'd Remains of the Inniskillen and Derry Men. Inscrib'd to the Right Honourable the Lord Tullamore.

See social Worth extend her copious Hand,
See public Virtue warm a faithful Land!
See Freedom's Sons in gen'rous League combin'd,
Who ardent cast their grateful Eyes behind,

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With kindling Hearts their Fathers Deeds survey,
Who snatch'd from lawless Pow'r th'important Prey;
Uplifting Liberty when prostrate spread,
They bravely conquer'd, or as bravely bled.
To you descends the Patriot's honour'd Name,
To you the Pledge of Truth, the Thirst of Fame;
The glorious Legacy, by you possest,
Beams on each Brow, and burns in ev'ry Breast.
A Deed like this sure Heav'n well-pleas'd shall see,
You loose those Hands which help'd to make you free.
Nor you, whose Heart with gen'rous Fervour glows,
The Joy of Want, and Balm of human Woes,
Your Country's Prop, nor you, my Lord, refuse,
Amid the public Praise, the grateful Muse.
Kind Heav'n has planted in your noble Frame
What Worth can minister, what Want can claim:
Your bount'ous Hand is ever foremost found
To raise the Weak, and bind up ev'ry Wound.
When niggard Nature lock'd each vital Store,
When Land and Water gave their Growths no more,
When ghastly Famine o'er each Face was spread,
And pale Eblana droop'd her dying Head,
Your saving Pow'r the sick'ning Sun supplies,
Unbinds the Glebe, and thaws th'inclement Skies.
Look back, my Lord! your pious Schemes enjoy;
Let warlike Chiefs, still anxious to destroy,
Spread Ruin round, and Death and Danger brave;
Your Fame from Mercy springs, your Pride's to save;
You seek that Crown whose Gems shall ever glow,
When Derry falls, and Poyn shall cease to flow:
With William's Worth your virtuous Deeds shall soar,
When Triumphs fail, and Albion sways no more

134

Above the fading Stars expiring Rays,
When Systems sink, and Suns withdraw their Blaze.