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say, when thefe long-unfolding fcenes appear, [The vale where musing Quiet treads.
Streams down thy hoary cheek the pity-darting The flow'r-clad lawns, and bloomy meads,
Or ftreams where zephyr loves to stray
Beneath the pale eve's twinkling ray;

tear?

I. 2.

Caft o'er yon tracklefs wafte thy wand'ring eye: Or waving woods detain the fight-
When from the gloomy cave of night
Some cloud fweeps fhadowy o'er the dufky fkies
And wraps the flying fcene, that fades, and
fwims, and dies.
11. 3.

Yon hill, whofe gold-illumin'd brow,
aft trembling thro' the bending sky,
Perlooks the boundlefs wild below,
Once bore the branching wood
That o'er yon murmuring flood
Hung wildly waving to the rustling gale;
The naked heath with mofs o'ergrown,
That hears the lone owl's nightly moan,
Once bloom'd with fummer's copious store,
Once rais the lawn befpangling flow`r;
Or heard fome lover's plaintive lay,
When, by pale Cynthia's filver ray,
All wild he wander'd o'er the lonely dale, [tale.
And taught the lift'ning moon the melancholy
I. 3.

Lo! rifing from yon dreary tomb,
What fpectres ftaik across the gloom!
With naggard eyes, and vifage pale,
And voice that moans.with feeble wail!
O'er yon long refounding plain
Slowly moves the folemn train;
Wailing wild with thrieks of woe
O'er the bones that reft below!
While the dull night's farded ear
Shrinks aghaft with thrilling fear!
Or ftand with thin robes wafting foon,
And eyes that blast the fick ning moon!
Yet thefe, ere Time had roll'd their years away,
Ere Death's fell arm had mark'd its aim,
Rul'd yon proud tow'rs with ample sway,
Beheld the trembling swains obey,
And wrought the glorious deed that fwell'd the
trump of Fame.

Ye wilds where heaven-rapt Fancy roves!
Ye fky crown'd hills, and folemn groves!
Ye low-brow'd vaults, ye gloomy cells!
Ye caves where night-bred Silence dwells!
Ghofts that in yon lonely hall
Lightly glance along the wall;
Or beneath yon ivy'd tow'r,
At the silent midnight hour,
Stand array'd in fpotlefs white,
And ftain the dusky robe of Night;
Or with flow folemn paufes roam
D'er the long-founding hollow dome!
Eay, mid yon defert folitary round,
When darkness wraps the boundlefs fpheres,
Does ne'er fome difmal, dying found
On Night's dull ferious ear rebound; [years?
Thatmourns the ceafelefs lapfe of life-contuming
11. 1.

[flight:

O call th' infpiring glorious hour to view,
When Caledonia's martial train
From yon fteep rock's high-arching brow
Pour'd on the heart-truck flying Dane!
When War's blood-tinctur'd spear
Hung o'er the trembling rear;
When light-heel'dTerror wing'd their headlong
Yon tow'rs then rung with wild alarms!
Yon defert gleam'd with fhining arms!
While on the bleak hill's bright ning fpire
Bold Vict'ry flam'd, with eyes of fire;
Her limbs celeftial robes infold,
Her wings were ting'd with fpangling gold,
She fpoke: her words infus'd refiltlefs might,
And warm'd the bounding heart, and rous'd the
foul of fight.

III. 1.

But why o'er thefe indulge the bursting figh?
Feels not each fhrub the tempeft's pow'r?
Rocks not the dome when whirlwinds fly?
Nor fhakes the hill when thunders roar?
Lo! mould'ring, wild, unknown,
What fanes, what tow'rs o'erthrown,
What tumbling chaos marks the waste of Time!
I fee Palmyra's temples tall;
Old Ruin thakes the hanging wall!
Yon waste where roaming lions how!,
Yon aitle where moans the grey-eyed owl,
Shows the proud Pertian's great abode*;
Where fceptred once, an earthly god! [clime,
His pow'r-clad arm controul'd each happier
Where fports the warbling Mufe, and Fancy

foars fublime.

III. 2.

Hark! what dire found rolls murm'ring on the
Ah! what foul thrilling fcene appears? [gale?

I fee the column'd arches fail!
And structures hoar, the boaft of years!
What mould'ring piles, decay'd,
Gleam through the moon-streak'd shade,
Where Rome's proud Genius rear'd her awful
Sad monument!-Ambition near [brow!
Rolls on the duft, and pours a tear;

II. 2.

And Conquest weeps o'er Cæfar's tomb;
Slow Patience fits, with eye depreft,

But, ah! what hand the fmiling profpect brings: Pale Honour drops the flutt'ring plume,
What voice recals th' expiring day?
See, darting swift on eagle-wings,
The glancing moment bursts away!
So from fome mountain's head,
In mantling gold array'd,
While bright-eyed Fancy standsin sweet surprise:

* Persepolis.

And Courage beats his fobbing breast; [flow,
Ev'n War's red cheek the gufhing ftreams o'er-
And Fancy's lift'ning ear attends the plaint of
Woe.

L13

III. 3.

III. 3.

Lo, on yon pyramid fublime,
Whence lies Old Egypt's defert clime,
Bleak, naked, wild! where ruin low'rs,
Mid fanes, and wrecks, and tumbling tow'rs,
On the steep height, waste and bare,
Stands the Pow'r with hoary hair!
O'er his fcythe he bends; his hand
Slowly fhakes the flowing fand,
While the hours, and airy ring
Lightly flit, with downy wing,

And fap the works of man; and shade
With filver'd locks his furrow'd head;
Thence rolls the mighty pow'r his broad furvey,
And feals the nations' awful doom:
He fees proud grandeur's meteor ray;
He yields to joy the feftive day;

Rapt Contemplation flalks along,
And hears the flow clock's pealing tongue;
Or, mid the dun difcolour'd gloom,
Sits on fome hero's peaceful tomb,
Throws life's gay glitt'ring robe afide,
And tramples on the neck of Pride.

Oft, fhelter'd by the rambling fprays,
Lead o'er the foreft's winding maze;
Where, thro' the mantling boughs, afar
Glimmers the filver-streaming star;
And, fhower'd from ev'ry ruftling blade,
The loofe light floats along the fhade:
So hov'ring o'er the human fcene
Gay Pleafure fports with brow ferene:
By Fancy beam'd, the glancing ray
Shoots, flutters, gleams, and fleets away:
Unfettled, dubious, reftlefs, blind,
Floats all the bufy bustling mind;

Then fweeps the length'ning fhade, and marks While Mem'ry's unftain'd leaves retain

them for the tomb.

$122. Ode to Evening. OGILVIE. MEEK Pow'r, whofe balmy-pinion'd gale

Steels o'er the flow'r-enamell'd dale!
Who's voice in gentle whilpers near
Oft fighs to Quiet's lift'ning ear;
As, on her downy couch at reft,
By Thought's infpiring vifions bleft
She fits, with white-rob'd Silence nigh,
And mufing heaves her ferious eye,
To mark the flow fun's glimm'ring ray,
To catch the last pale gleam of day;
Or, funk in sweet repofe, unknown
Lies on the wild hill's van alone:
And fees thy gradual pencil flow
Along the heaven-illumin'd bow.

Come, Nymph demure, with mantle blue,
Thy traces bath'd in balmy dew,
With step smooth fliding o'er the green,
The graces breathing in thy mien;
And thy vesture's gather'd fold
Girt with a zone of circling gold;
And bring the harp, whofe folemn ftring
Dies to the wild wind's murm`ring wing;
And the Nymph, whofe eye ferene
Marks the calm-breathing woodland fcene:
Thought, mountain fage! who loves to climb,
And haunts the dark rock's fummit dim;
Let Fancy, falcon-wing'd, be near:
And through the cloud-envelop'd fphere,
Where muling roams Retirement hoar,
Lull'd by the torrent`s diftant roar,
Oh bid with trembling light to glow
The raven-plume that crowns his brow.
Lo, where thy meek-ey'd train attend!
Queen of the folemn thought, descend!
Oh hide me in romantic bow'rs!
Or lead my step to ruin'd tow'rs!
Where gleaming through the chinky door
The pale ray gilds the moulder'd floor:
While beneath the hallow'd pile,
Deep in the defert shrieking aisle,

No trace from all th' ideal train.

But fee, the landscape op'ning fair
Invites to breathe the purer air!
Oh when the cowflip-fcented gale
Shakes the light dew-drop o'er the dale,
When on her amber-dropping bed
Loofe Eafe reclines her downy head;
How bleft! by fairy-haunted stream
To melt in mild ecstatic dream!
Die to the pictur'd wish, or hear
(Breath'd foft on Fancy's trembling ear)
Such lays by angel-harps refin'd,
As half unchain the flutt'ring mind,
When on life's edge it eyes the shore,
And all its pinions ftretch to foar.

Lo, where the fun's broad orb withdrawn.
Skirts with pale gold the dusky lawn;
While, led by ev'ry gentler pow'r,
Steals the flow, folemn, mufing hour.
Now from the green hill's purple brow
Let me mark the icene below;
Where, feebly glancing thro' the gloom,
Yon myrtle thades the filent tomb:
Not far, beneath the evening beam
The dark lake rolls his azure ftream,

Whofe breast the fwan's white plumes divide
Slow-failing o'er the floating tide.
Groves, meads, and spires, and forests bare,
Shoot glimm'ring thro' the mifty air;
Dim as the vifion-pictur'd bow'r
That gilds the faint's expiring hour,
When, rapt to ecftafy, his eye
Looks through the blue ethereal fky:
All heaven unfolding to his fight!
Gay forms that fwim in floods of light!
The fun-pav'd floor, the balmy clime,
The ruby-beaming dome fublime;
The tow'rs in glitt'ring pomp difplay'd-
The bright fcene hovers o'er his bed:
He ftart-but from his eager gaze
Black clouds obfcure the leffening rays;
On mem'ry ftill the fcene is wrought,
And lives in Fancy's featur'd thought.
On the airy mount reclin'd
What wishes footh the mufing mind!

How

How foft the velvet lap of Spring!
How tweet the Zephyr's violet wing!
Goddefs of the plaintive fong,
That leads the melting heart along!
Oh bid thy voice of genial pow'r
Reach Contemplation's lonely bow'r;
And call the fage with tranced fight
To climb the mountain's fteepy height;
To wing the kindling with, or fpread
O'er Thought's pale cheek enliv'ning red;
Come, hoary Pow'r, with ferious eye,
Whofe thought explores yon diftant fky;
Now, when the bufy world is ftill,
Nor paffion tempts the wav'ring will,
When fweeter hopes each pow'r controul,
And quiet whifpers to the foul,
Now weep from life th' illufive train
That dance in Folly's dizzy brain:
Be Reaton's fimple draught portray'd,
Where blends alternate light and shade;
Bid dimpled Mirth, with thought belied,
Sport on the bubble's glitt'ring fide;
Bid Hope pursue the diftant boon,
And Phrenly watch the fading moon;
Paint Superftition's starting eye,
And Wit that leers with gefture fly;
Let Cenfure whet her venom'd dart,
And green-eyed Envy gnaw the heart;
Let Pleasure lie on flow'rs reclin'd,
While Anguish aims her shaft behind.

Hail, Sire fublime! whose hallow'd cave
Howls to the hoarfe deep's dashing wave;
Thee Solitude to Phoebus bore,
Far on the lone, deferted fhore,
Where Orellano's rufhing tide
Roars on the rock's projected fide.
Hence bursting o'er thy ripen'd mind,
Beams all the father's thought refin'd:
Hence oft, in filent vales unfeen,
Thy footsteps print the fairy green;
Or thy foul melts to ftrains of woe,
That from the willow's quiv'ring bough
Sweet warbling breathe-the zephyrs round
O'er Dee's fimooth current waft the found,
When foft on bending ofiers laid
The broad fun trembling through the bed;
All wild thy heav'n-rapt fancy trays,
Led thro' the foul-diffolving maze;
Till flumber downy-pinion'd, near
Plants her ftrong fetlocks on thy ear;
The foul unfetter'd bursts away,
And basks enlarg`d in beamy day.

§ 123. Ode to Innocence. OGILVIE.

"Twas when the flow-declining ray

Hail, Innocence! celeftial Maid!
"What joys thy blushing charms reveal!
"Sweet as the arbour's cooling fhade,
"And milder than the vernal gale.

"On Thee attends a radiant choir,

66

Soft-fmiling Peace, and downy Reft; "With Love, that prompts the warbling lyre; "And Hope, that fooths the throbbing breast. "Oh fent from heaven to haunt the grove, "Where fquinting Envy ne'er can come ! "Nor pines the cheek with luckle's love, "Nor Anguish chills the living bloom. "But fpotless Beauty, rob'd in white, "Sits on yon mofs-grown hill reclin'd; "Serene as heaven's unsullied light, "And pure as Delia's gentle mind. "Grant, heavenly Pow'r! thy peaceful fway May still my ruder thoughts controul; "Thy hand to point my dubious way,

66

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Thy voice to looth the melting soul.
"Far in the fhady, fweet retreat

"Let Thought beguile the ling'ring hour;
"Let Quiet court the mofly feat,
"And twining olives form the bow'r :
"Let dove-eyed Peace her wreath bestow,
"And oft fit lift'ning in the dale,
"While Night's fweet warbler from the bough
"Tells to the grove her plaintive tale.

"Soft, as in Delia's fnowy breast,
"Let each confenting paflion move;
"Let Angels watch its filent rest,
"And all its blifsful dreams be Love!"

§ 124. Morning; or, The Complaint. An Ame-
rican Eclogue.
GREGORY.

FAR from the favage bandit's fierce alarms,
Or diftant din of horrid defpot's arins,
Tho' Pennfylvania boafts her peaceful plain,
Yet there in blood her petty tyrants reign.

With wavingpines tho'vocalwoods be crown'd
And ftream-fed vales with living wealth abound,
To golden fields tho' ripening rays defcend,
With blushing fruit tho' loaded branches bend
To thofe who ne'er muft freedom's bleifings tafte,
'Tis barren all, 'tis all a worthlefs wafte.

While hoarfe the cataract murmur'donthegale
And chilling dews twept thro' the murky dale;
Along the hills the difmal tempeft howl'd,
And lightnings flash'd, and deep the thunder
Beneath a leanefs tree, ere morn arose, [roll'd;
The flave Adala thus laments his woes:
Ye grilly spectres, gather round my feat,

Had ting'd the cloud with evening gold; From caves unbleft, that wretch's groans repeat!

No warbler pour'd the melting lay,
No found disturb'd the sleeping fold:

When, by a murm'ring rill reclin'd,
Sat, wrapt in thought, a wand'ring fwain;
Calm peace compos'd his mufing mind;
And thus he rais'd the flowing ftrain:

Terrific forms, from mifty lakes arife!
And bloody meteors threaten thro' the skies!
Oh curs'd deftroyers of our hapless race,
Of human kind the terror and disgrace!
Lo! hofts of dufky captives, to my view,
Demand a deep revenge! demand their due!
Aud

LI

Andfrowning chiefs now dart athwart the gloom
And o'er the falt feawave pronounce your doom.
But Gods are juft, and oft the stroke forbear,
To plunge the guilty in tenfold despair.

Lift high the fcourge,myfoultherackdifdains;
I pant for freedom and my native plains!
With limbsbenumb'dmypoor companions lie,
Opprefs'd by pain and want the aged figh;
Thro' reedy huts the driving tempeft pours,
Their fefteringwounds receivethe ficklyfhow'rs;
In madd'ning draughtsourlordstheirfenfes fteep,
And doom their flaves toftripesand deathinfleep;
Now, while the bitter blaft furrounds my head,
To times long paft my reftlefs foul is led,
Far, far beyond the azure hills, to groves
Of ruddy fruit, where beauty fearless roves→→→
O blifsful feats! O felf-approving joys!
Nature's plain dictates! ignorance of vice!
Oguiltless hours! Our cares and wants were few,
No arts of luxury or deceit we knew..
Our labour, fport-to tend our cottage care,
Or from the palm the luscious juice prepare ;
To fit indulging love's delufive dream,
And fnare the filver tenants of the ftream;
Or (nobler toil) to aim the deadly blow
With dext'rous art against the spotted foe;
O days with youthful daring mark'd! 'twas then
I dragg'd the fhaggy monster from his den,
And boldly down the rocky mountain's fide
Hurl'd the grim panther in the foaming tide.
Our healthful sports a daily feast afford.
And ev'n itill found us at the focial board.

Can I forget, ah me! the fatal day,
When half the vale of peace was fwept away!
Th' affrighted maids in vain the gods implore,
And weeping view from far the happy thore;
The frantic dames impatient ruffians feize,
And infantsfhriek,andclafp their mothers knees;
With galling fetters foon their limbs are bound,
Andgroansthroughout thenoifomebarkrefound.
Why was I bound! why did not Whydah fee
Adala gain er death, or victory!

To till his glebe employs Arcona's care,
To Naftal's God he nightly makes his pray'r;
His mind at eafe, of Chriftian truths he'll boaft-
He has no wife, no lovely offspring loft.
Gay his favannah blooms, while mine appears
Scorch'dupwith heat,ormoiftwithbloodandtears.
Cheerful his hearth in chilling winter burns,
While to the ftorm the fad Adala mourns.

Lift high the fcourge, my foulthe rackdifdains;
I pant for freedom and my native plains!
Shall I his holy Prophet's aid implore.
And wait for juítice on another fhore?
Or, rufhing down yon mountain's craggy steep,
End all my forrows in the fullen deep?
A cliff there hangs in yon grey morning cloud,
The dafhing wave beneath roars harfh and loud-
But doubts and fears involve my anxious mind,
The gulph of deathon cepaîs'd,what shorewefind;
Dubious, if fent beyond th' expanded main,
This foul fhall feek its native realms again:
Or if in gloomy mifts condemn'd to lie,
Beyond the limits of yon arching sky.
A better profpect oft my spirit cheers,
And in my dreams the vale of peace appears,
And fleeting vitions of my former life:
My hoary fire I clafp, my long-loft wife,
And oft I kifs my gentle babes in fleep, [weep,
Till, with the founding whip, I'm wak'd to

Lift highthefcourge, my foul therackdifdains;
I pant for freedom and my native plains!

Chiefs of the earth, and monarchs of the fea
Who vaunt your hardy ancestors were free;
Wholeteachers plead th' opprefs'd and injur'd's
cause,

And prove the wisdom of your Prophet's laws;
To force and fraud if juftice muft give place,
You're dragg'd to flavery by fome rougher race.
Like Afric's fons your children must obey;
Some rougher race your flocks fhall force away,
The very Gods that view our conftant toil,
Shall fee your offspring till a ruder foil,
The pain of thirst and pinching hunger know,
And all the torments that from bondage flow,
The fweets of peace, the lafting joys of love.
When far remov'd from Chriftianworldsweprove

But, hark! the whip's harth echo thro'thetrees!
On every trembling limb freth horrors feize-
Alas! 'tis morn, and here I fit alone-
Ruffians proceed! Adala ne'er fhall fwerve,
Be ftrong, my foul, and part without a groan!
prepare the rack, and ftrain each aching nerve!

No ftorms arife, no waves revengeful roar,
To dafh the monsters on our injur'd fhore.
Long o'er the foaming deep to worlds unknown,
By envious winds the bulky veffel's blown,
While by difeafe and chains the weak expire,
Or parch'd endure the flow confuming fire.
Who'd in this land of many forrows live,
Where death's the only comfort tyrants give?
Tyrants unbleft! Each proud of ftrict command,
Nor age nor ficknels holds the iron hand;
Whofe hearts, in adamant involv'd, defpife
The drooping female's tears, the infant's cries,
Fromwhofe ternbrowsnogratefullooke'erbeams,
Whofeblufhlefsfrontnor rape normurderthames.
Nor all I blame; for Naftal, friend to peace,
Thro' his wide paftures bids oppreflion ceafe;
No drivers goad, no galling fetters bind,
No ftern compulfion damps th' exalted mind,
There ftrong Arcona's fated to enjoy
Domestic sweets, and rear his progeny ;
* The Quakers in America have set free all their Negroes, and allow them wages as other servants,

Lift high thefcourge,my foultherackdifdains;
I pant for freedom and my native plains.
Who life difpenfeft by thy genial ray!
ThouGod, who gild'ft with light the rifingday!
Will thy flow vengeance never, never fall,
But undiftinguish'd favour fhine on all?
O hear a fuppliant wretch's laft, fad pray'r!
Dart fierceft rage! infect the ambient air!
This pallid race, whofe hearts are bound in fteel,
By dint of suffering teach them how to feel.

Or, to fome defpot's lawless will betray'd,
Givethem toknowwhatwretches they have made!
Beneath the lafh let them refign their breath,
Or court, in chains, the clay-cold hand of death,
Or, worst of ills! within each callous breaft
Cherith uncurb'd the dark internal pest;
Eid Av`rice fwell with undiminith'd rage,
While no new worlds th' accursed thirst afluage;
Then bid the monfters on each other turn,
The fury paffions in diforder burn;

O! had I died, and left the name of slave Deep, deep entomb'd within an early grave! O! had I died, ere ruthlefs fates contrain, With thee enthrall'd, to cross the western main! Oh! to have met a glorious death in arms, And ne'er beheld Melinda's fatal charms! Time would be short, and memory would fail, To dwell diftinctly on the various tale. Tedious to tell what treach'rous arts were tried, To footh the smart of ftill revolting pride. Bid Difcord nourish, civil crimes increafe, I liv'd, and lov'd-then kifs'd the fatal chain; Nor one fond with arife that pleads for peace-No joy but one to cheer a life of pain. Till, with their crimes in wild confufion hurl'd, They wake t'eternal anguish in a future world.

§ 125. Evening; or, the Fugitive. An American Eclogue. GREGORY.

MOMBAZE.

SAY whether, wand'rer, points thycheerle sway. When announce clofe

of day?

find

In yon wild wafte no friendly roof thou'lt
The haunt of ferpents and the favage kind.
And fure rememb`rance mocks me, or I trace
In thine the femblance of Zamboia's face?
Yet fcarce thyself! for in thy alter'd eye
I read the records of hard deftiny.
From thy rack'd bofom fighs that ceafelefs flow,
A man befpeak thee exercis'd in woe.
Say, then, what chance has burst thy rigid chains,
Has led thee frantic o'er thefe diftant plains?
What potent forrows can thy peace infeft?
What crimes conceal'd preyonthyanxiousbreaft?

ZAMBOIA.

No crimes this heart infeft, this hand defile,
Or frantic drive me o'er a foreign foil.
Amurder'dwife and wrongs unmatch'd I mourn,
And buried joys, that never fhall return!
If then thou 'rt tempted by the traitor's meed,
Take this poor life, and profper by the deed!

MOMBAZE.

Not the rich produce of Angola's fhore,
Not all the mifer's heap'd and glittering store;
Not all that pride would grafp, or pomp difplay,
Should tempt this hand the wretched to betray.
No traitors dwell within this bleft domain,
The friends of peace we live, a guilelefs train.
Grief dims thy eye, or gladly wouldst thou fee
Thy lov'd Mombaze yet furvives in me.
Canft thou forget? I taught thy youth to dare
The fylvan herd, and wage the defp'rate war.
Canft thou forget? One common lot we drew,
With thee enchain'd, a captive's fate I knew.
Diftruft me not, but unreferv'd disclose
The anxious tale that in thy bofom glows:
To part our griefs is oft to mitigate,
And focial forrows blunt the darts of fate.

ZAMBOIA.

Dear to my fight that form, and doubly dear Thy well-known accents meet Zamboia's ear. This Eclogue was written

Yet witnefs bear, thou dear departed ghost,
That lonely rov't thy Gambia's facred coaft!
How fweet the toil that met the morning's ray,
How light the labour that o'er-lafted day!
The reed-built hovel, and the fcanty fare,
Imperial blifs could give, Melinda there!
Soft was my pillow, on thy gentle breast,
When o'er pre's'dNature droop'd in want of reft
And if a tear my eye,
Thine was the tear, and thine the bursting figh.
Blifs I could boaft, unenvied had it pafs'd,
But blifs too great, for hapless flaves, to laft.

Awretch, who banish'd from his native clime,
Defil'd with many a black and monstrous crime
Prefided o'er us, and with iron hand
Held favage fway o'er all the fervile band:
In him each hellish paffion rudely glow'd,
And cruelty in him moft cruel fhew'd.
Him luft infernal, one fad ev'ning, led
T' invade the chaftenefs of my marriage bed:
I chanc'd t' approach-the caitiff I furpris'd-
My wife preferv'd, and had his guilt chaitis'd
While full with vengeance boil'd my wounded
But chance referv'd him for a bafer part [heart:
Meanwhile, o'erjoy'd that vice e'en once had
I blefs'd thegodsthatinnocenceprevail'd.[fail'd,
The baffled villain, now a foe profess'd,
Rolls fcenes of blood within his ranklingbreast;
With coward arts he forg'd a crafty tale;
And hands unrighteous poize the partial fcale.
Imputed crimes to crush the weak fuffice,
Where uncurb'd will ufurps the place of laws,
Hearfay is guilt, and damning fact furmise.
No friendly pleader takes the wretch's caufe.
Our tyrant's fears each want of proof fupplied,
We ftand condemn'd,unqueftion'd,and untried.

I

O! had the grief and shame been all my own,
And the black vengeance lit on me alone!
But harsher fates a harder curse decreed;
Thefe eyes were doom'd to fee Melinda bleed.
faw her by relentless ruffians bound,
The brandish'd fcourge inflict the mortalwound;
Her tender frame abus'd, and mangled o'er,
I faw her welt'ring in a flood of gore
The murd'rous fcene had foon a dreadful close-
And do I live! and can I speak my woes!
Her pregnant womb no longer could sustain
The public fhame, and agony of pain;
A birth abortive robb'd her of her breath,
And pangs convulfive feal'd her eyes in death.
during the American war.

One

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