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From these, the pests of human kind,
Whom royal bounty cannot bind,

Protect our parent King :
Unmask their treach’ry to his sight,
Drag forth the vipers into light,

And crush them ere they sting.

If such his trust and honours share,
Again exert thy guardian care;

Each venom'd heart disclose;
On Him, on Him, our all depends,
Oh fave him from his treach'rous friends,

He cannot fear his foes.

Whoe'er shall at the helm preside,
Still let thy prudence be his guide,

To stem the troubled wave; But chiefly whisper in his ear, “ That GEORGE is open, just, fincére,

" And dares to scorn a knave."

No selfish views e oppress mankind,
No mad ambition fir'd thy mind,

To purchase fame with blood;

Thy bosom 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 lovë took part, Together work thy head and heart,

The Minister 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 design,

And Pelham live in you.

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V E R S E S

Written at MONTAUBAN in FRANCE, 1750.

T

By the Rev. Mr. JOSEPH WARTON.
ARN, how delightful wind thy willow'd waves,

But ah! they fructify a land of Naves !
In vain thy bare-foot, sun-burnt peasants hide
With luscious grapes yon' hill's romantic side ;
No cups nectareous shall their toils repay,
The priest's, the soldier's, and the fermier's prey:
Vain glows this sun in cloudless glory drest,
That strikes fresh vigour through the pining breast;
Give me, beneath a colder, changeful sky,
My soul's best, only pleasure, Liberty!
What millions perish'd near thy mournful food"
When the red papal tyrant cry'd out — “Blood !”
Less fierce the Saracen, and quiver'd Moor,
That dash'd thy infants ’gainst the stones of yore.
Be warn'd, ye nations round; and trembling see
Dire superstition quench humanity !

Alluding to the persecutions of the protestants, and the wars of the Saracens, carried on in the Southern provinces of France.

By

By all the chiefs in Freedom's battles loft ;
By wise and virtuous Alfred's aweful ghost;
By old Galgacus' scythed, iron car,
That swiftly whirling through the walks of war,
Dash'd Roman blood, and crush'd the foreign throngs;
By holy Druids' courage-breathing songs ;
By fierce BonducA's shield, and foaming steeds ;
By the bold peers that met on Thames's meads ;
By the fifth Henry's helm, and lightning spear,
O LIBERTY, my warm petition hear ;
Be Albion still thy joy! with her remain,
Long as the surge shall lash her oak-crown'd plain!

WHEN

*{*}*********************** The Revenge of A MERIC A.

By the Same.
HEN fierce PISARRO's legions flew

O'er ravag'd fields of rich Peru,
Struck with his bleeding people's woes,
Old India's aweful Genius rose.
He fat on Andes' topmost stone,
And heard a thousand nations groan;
For grief his feathery crown he tore,

To see huge Plata foam with gore;
Vol. IV.
Р

He

He broke his arrows, stampt the ground,
To view his cities smoaking round.

What woes, he cry'd, hath lust of gold
O'er my poor country widely rollid;
Plunderers proceed ! my bowels tear,
But

ye

shall meet destruction there ;
From the deep-vaulted mine fhall rise
Th’ insatiate fiend, pale Avarice!
Whose steps shall trembling Justice fly,
Peace, Order, Law, and Amity !
I see all Europe's children curst
With lucre's universal thirst:
The
rage
that sweeps my

fons away,
My baneful gold shall well repay.

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TH

HE dart of Izdabel prevails !. 'twas dipt.

In double poison - I shall soon arrive At the blest island, where no tigers spring On heedless hunters; where anana's bloom

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