POEMS.

TO

MRS. MONTAGU,

THESE

LITTLE POEMS,

NOW REVISED AND CORRECTED FOR THE LAST TIME,

ARE,

WITH EVERY SENTIMENT OF ESTEEM AND

GRATITUDE,

MOST RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED,

BY THE AUTHOR.

ADVERTISEMENT.

January, 1777.

HAVING lately seen in print some poems ascribed to me which I never wro, and some of my own inaccurately copied, I thought it would not be improper to publish, in this little volume, all the verses of which I am willing to be considered as the author. Many others I did indeed write in the early part of my life; but they were in general so incorrect, that I would not rescue them from oblivion, even if a wish could do it.

Some of the few now offered to the public would per. haps have been suppressed, if in making this collection I had implicitly followed my own judgment. But in so small a matter, who would refuse to submit his opinion to that of a friend?

It is of no consequence to the reader to know the date of any of these little poems. But some private reasons determined the author to add, that most of them were written many years ago, and that the greater part of the Minstrel which is his latest attempt in this way, was composed in the year 1768.

ODE TO PEACE.

I. 1.

PEACE, heaven-descended maid! whose powerful voice
From ancient darkuess call'd the morn,

Of jarring elements composed the noise:
When Chaos, from his old dominion torn,

With all his bellowing throng,

Far, far was hurl'd the void abyss along;

And all the bright angelic choir

To loftiest raptures tuned the heavenly lyre,
Pour'd in loud symphony th' impetuous strain;
And every fiery orb and planet sung,

And wide through night's dark desolate domain
Rebounding long and deep the lays triumphant rung.
I. 2.

Oh whither art thou fled, Saturnian reign?

Roll round again, majestic years!

To break fell Tyranny's corroding chain,

From Woe's wan cheek to wipe the bitter tears,

Ye years, again roll round!

Hark from afar what loud tumultuous sound,

While echoes sweep the winding vales,

Swells full along the plains, and loads the gales'

Murder deep-roused, with the wild whirlwind's haste

And roar of tempest, from her cavern springs,

Her tangled serpents girds around her waist,

Smiles ghastly-stern, and shakes her gore-distilling

wings.

I. 3.

Fierce up the yielding skies

The shouts redoubling rise:

Earth shudders at the dreadful sound,

And all is listening trembling round