The Works of William Cowper Comprising his poems, correspondence, and translations. With a life of the author, by the editor, Robert Southey |
 | II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
 | VII. | VOL. VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI, XII. |
| XIII, XIV. |
| XV. |
 | The Works of William Cowper |  |
VII. VOL. VII.
92
ON A LATE THEFT.
Sweet nymph, who art, it seems, accused
Of stealing George's pen,
Use it thyself, and having used,
E'en give it him again:
Of stealing George's pen,
Use it thyself, and having used,
E'en give it him again:
The plume of his, that has one scrap
Of thy good sense express'd,
Will be a feather in his cap
Worth more than all his crest.
Of thy good sense express'd,
Will be a feather in his cap
Worth more than all his crest.
112
TO WARREN HASTINGS, ESQ. BY AN OLD SCHOOLFELLOW OF HIS AT WESTMINSTER.
Hastings! I knew thee young, and of a mind,While young, humane, conversable, and kind;
Nor can I well believe thee, gentle then,
Now grown a villain, and the worst of men;
But rather some suspect, who have oppress'd
And worried thee, as not themselves the best.
145
EPITAPH ON FOP, A DOG BELONGING TO LADY THROCKMORTON.
Though once a puppy, and though Fop by name,Here moulders one whose bones some honour claim.
No sycophant, although of spaniel race,
And though no hound, a martyr to the chase—
Ye squirrels, rabbits, leverets, rejoice,
Your haunts no longer echo to his voice;
146
He died worn out with vain pursuit of you.
“Yes (the indignant shade of Fop replies)—
And worn with vain pursuit Man also dies.”
208
TO A YOUNG FRIEND, ON HIS ARRIVING AT CAMBRIDGE WET, WHEN NO RAIN HAD FALLEN THERE.
If Gideon's fleece, which drench'd with dew he found,While moisture none refresh'd the herbs around,
Might fitly represent the Church endow'd
With heavenly gifts, to Heathens not allow'd:
In pledge, perhaps, of favours from on high,
Thy locks were wet, when other locks were dry.
Heaven grant us half the omen! May we see,
Not drought on others, but much dew on thee!
247
TO WILLIAM HAYLEY, ESQ.
Weston, Dec. 17, 1793.
O Jove! and all ye Gods! grant this my son
To prove, like me, pre-eminent in Troy;
In valour such, and firmness of command!
Be he extoll'd, when he returns from fight,
As far his sire's superior! may he slay
His enemy, bring home his gory spoils,
And may his mother's heart o'erflow with joy!
END OF VOL. VII.
| The Works of William Cowper | |