Not for herself my Mufe is griev'd,

She never afk'd, nor e'er receiv'd,

One ministerial boon.

Hath fome peculiar ftrange offence,
Against us arm'd Omnipotence,
To check the nation's pride?
Behold th' appointed punishment!
At length the vengeful bolt is fent,
It fell when Pelham dy'd!

Uncheck'd by fhame, unaw'd by dread,
When Vice triumphant rears her head,
Vengeance can sleep no more;

The evil angel stalks at large,

The good fubmits, refigns his charge,
And quits th' unhallow'd fhore.

The fame fad morn to church and state,

(So for our fins 'twas fix'd by fate)

A double ftroke was giv❜n;

The 6th of March, 1754, was remarkable for the publication of the works of a late Lord, and the death of Mr. Pelham.

Black

Black as the whirlwinds of the north,
St. J-n's fell Genius iffu'd forth,
And Pelham fled to heav'n!

By angels watch'd in Eden's bow'rs,
Our parents pass'd their peaceful hours,
Nor guilt nor pain they knew;
But on the day which usher'd in

The hell-born train of mortal fin,

The heav'nly guards withdrew.

Look down, much honour'd shade, below,

Still let thy pity aid our woe;

Stretch out thy healing hand;

Resume those feelings, which on earth
Proclaim'd thy patriot love and worth,
And fav'd a finking land.

Search with thy more than mortal eye,
The breasts of all thy friends: descry
What there has got poffeffion.

See if thy unfufpecting heart,

In some for truth mistook not art,

For principle, profeffion,

From

From thefe, the pests of human kind,

Whom royal bounty cannot bind,
Protect our parent King :

Unmask their treach'ry to his fight,
Drag forth the vipers into light,
And crush them ere they fting.

If fuch his truft and honours fhare,
Again exert thy guardian care,

Each venom'd heart difclofe;

On Him, on Him, our all depends,
Oh fave him from his treach'rous friends,
He cannot fear his foes.

Whoe'er fhall at the helm prefide,

Still let thy prudence be his guide,

To stem the troubled wave;

But chiefly whisper in his ear,

"That GEORGE is open, just, sincere, "And dares to fcorn a knave."

No selfish views t' opprefs mankind,
No mad ambition fir'd thy mind,

To purchase fame with blood

I

Thy

Thy bofom glow'd with purer heat;
Convinc'd that to be truly great,
Is only to be good.

To hear no lawless paffion's call,

To serve thy King, yet feel for all,
Such was thy glorious plan!

Wisdom with gen❜rous love took part,
Together work thy head and heart,
The Minifter and Man.

Unite, ye kindred fons of worth;
Strangle bold faction in its birth;
Be Britain's weal your view!
For this great end let all combine,
Let virtue link each fair defign,
And Pelham live in you.

VERSE

S

Written at MONTAUBAN in FRANCE, 1750.

By the Rev. Mr. JOSEPH WARton.

ARN, how delightful wind thy willow'd waves,

TAR

But ah! they fructify a land of slaves!

In vain thy bare-foot, fun-burnt peasants hide

With luscious grapes yon' hill's romantic fide;

No

cups nectareous fhall their toils repay,

The priest's, the foldier's, and the fermier's prey:
Vain glows this fun in cloudless glory dreft,
That strikes fresh vigour through the pining breaft;
Give me, beneath a colder, changeful sky,
My foul's beft, only pleasure, LIBERTY!
What millions perish'd near thy mournful flood
When the red papal tyrant cry'd out-"Blood!"
Lefs fierce the Saracen, and quiver'd Moor,
That dafh'd thy infants 'gainst the stones of
yore.
Be warn'd, ye nations round; and trembling fee
Dire fuperftition quench humanity!

Alluding to the perfecutions of the proteftants, and the wars of the Saracens, carried on in the Southern provinces of France.

By