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Shall drench again or discompose,
But, screen'd from ev'ry storm that blows,
It boasts a splendour ever new,
Safe with protecting Montague.

To the same patroness resort,


Secure of favour at her court,

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Strong Genius, from whose forge of thought
Forms rise, to quick perfection wrought,
Which, though new-born, with vigour move,
Like Pallas springing arm'd from Jove-
Imagination scatt'ring round
Wild roses over furrow'd ground,
Which Labour of his frown beguile,
And teach Philosophy a smile-
Wit flashing on Religion's side,
Whose fires to sacred Truth applied,
The gem, though luminous before,

Obtrude on human notice more,

Like sun-beams on the golden height
Of some tall temple playing bright-

Well-tutor’d Learning, from his books, Dismiss'd with grave, not haughty looks,

Their order on his shelves exact

Not more harmonious or compact

Than that to which he keeps confin'd

The various treasures of his mind

All these to Montague's repair,

Ambitious of a shelter there.

There Genius, Learning, Fancy, Wit,
Their ruffled plumage calm refit,
(For stormy troubles loudest roar
Around their flight who highest soar)
And in her eye, and by her aid,
Shine safe without a fear to fade.

She thus maintains divided sway


yon bright regent of the day; The plume and poet both we know

Their lustre to his influence owe,

And she the works of Phæbus aiding, Both poet saves and plume from fading.




On his emphatical and interesting delivery of the Defence of

WARREN HASTINGS, Esq. in the House of Lords.

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Cowper,whose silver voice, task'd sometimes hard,

Legends prolix delivers in the ears
(Attentive when thou read'st) of England's Peers,

Let verse at length yield thee thy just reward.
Thou wast not heard with drowsy disregard,

Expending late on all that length of plea
Thy gen'rous pow'rs, but silence honour'd thee

Mute as e'er gaz'd on Orator or Bard.
Thou art not voice alone, but hast beside


Both heart and head; and couldst with music sweet

Of attic phrase and senatorial tone,
Like thy renown'd Forefathers, far and wide

Thy fame diffuse, prais'd not for utt'rance meet
Of others' speech, but magic of thy own.


'Twas in the glad season of spring,

Asleep at the dawn of the day,
I dream'd what I cannot but sing,

So pleasant it seem'd as I lay.
I dream'd that on ocean afloat,

Far hence to the westward I sail'd,

While the billows high-lifted the boat,

And the fresh-blowing breeze never fail'd.

In the steerage a woman I saw,

Such at least was the form that she wore,

Whose beauty impress'd me with awe,

Ne'er taught me by woman before. She sat, and a shield at her side

Shed light like a sun on the waves, And smiling divinely, she cry'd

-I go to make Freemen of Slaves.

Then raising her voice to a strain

The sweetest that ear ever heard,'
She sung of the slave's broken chain

Wherever her glory appear’d.
Some clouds which had over us hung

Fled, chas'd by her melody clear,
And methought while she Liberty sung,

'Twas Liberty only to hear.

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Thus swiftly dividing the flood,

To a slave-cultur'd island we came,

Where a Demon, her enemy, stood

Oppression his terrible name.
In his hand, as the sign of his sway,

A scourge hung with lashes he bore,
And stood looking out for his prey

From Africa's sorrowful shore.

But soon as approaching the land

That goddess-like woman he view'd,

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