feel, I feel, that from its chain

My rescued foul is free, Nor is it now I idly dream Of fancied Liberty.

Extinguish'd is my ancient flame,

All calm my thoughts remain ;
And artful love in vain fhall strive
To lurk beneath difdain.

No longer, when thy name I hear,
My confcious colour flies;
No longer, when thy face I fee,
My heart's emotions rife.

I fleep, yet not in every dream
Thy image pictur'd fee;

I wake, nor does my alter'd mind

Fix its first thought on thee:
From thee far diftant when I roam,

No fond concern I know;
With thee I ftay, nor yet from thence
Does pain or pleasure flow.

Oft of my Nicès charms I speak,

Nor thrills my stedfast heart; Oft I review the wrongs I bore, Yet feel no inward fmart.

No quick alarms confound my fenfe, When Nice near I fee;

Even with my rival I can smile,

And calmly talk of thee.

Speak to me with a placid mien,
Or treat me with disdain

; Vain is to me the look severe,

The gentle smile as vain.
Loft is the empire o'er my soul,

Which once those lips pofleft;
Those eyes no longer can divine

Each secret of my breaft.
What pleases now; or grieves my mind

What makes me sad, or gay,
It is not in thy power to give,

Nor canst thou take away ;
Each pleasant spot without thee charms,

The wood, the mead, the hill;
And scenes of dullnefs, even with thee,

Are scenes of dullnefs ftill.

Judge, if I speak with tongue fincere ;

Thou still art wond'rous fair;
Great are the beauties of thy form,

But not beyond compare :
And, let not truth offend thine ear,

My eyes at length incline
To fpy fome faults in that lov'd face,

Which once appear'd divine,
When from its secret deep recess.

I tore the painful dart, (My shameful weakness I confess)

Er feem'd to split my heart ;

But, to relieve a tortur'd mind,
To triumph o'er disdain,

To gain my captive self once more,
I'd fuffer every pain.

Caught by the birdlime's treacherous twigs,
To which he chanc'd to stray,
The bird his faften'd feathers leaves,
Then gladly flies away :

His shorten'd wings he foon renews,
Of fnares no more afraid;
Then grows by past experience wife,
Nor is again betray'd.

I know thy pride can ne'er believe
My paffion's fully o'er,
Because I oft repeat the tale,

And still add fomething more:

"Tis natural instinct prompts my tongue,

And makes the story last,

As all mankind are fond to boast
Of dangers they have past.

The warrior thus, the combat o'er,
Recounts his bloody wars,

Tells all the hardships which he bore,
And fhews his ancient fcars.

Thus the glad flave, by profperous fate

Freed from the fervile chain,

Shews to each friend the galling weight,

Which once he dragg'd with pain.

I speak,

I fpeak, yet speaking, all my aim
Is but to ease my mind;

I speak, yet care not if my words
With thee can credit find;

I speak, nor ask if my difcourfe
Is e'er approv'd by thee,

Or whether thou with equal ease
Doft talk again of me.

I leave a light inconstant maid,
Thou'ft loft a heart fincere ;-
I know not which wants comfort moff,
Or which has most to fear :

I'm fure, a fwain fo fond and true,
Nicè can never find;

A nymph like her is quickly found,
Falfe, faithlefs, and unkind.

L

MODERN VIRTUE.

A SA TIRE.

EXCUTIENDA DAMUS PRÆCORDIA PERS.

ET venal annals boaft a Cæfar's reign,
When Rome's great genius hugg'd th' imperial

"chain,

"Freedom, gay goddess, glads our happier isle, Peace fmooths her brow, as plenty decks her smile;

R 2

"In every fon th' inspirer lives confess'd, "And lights up all the patriot in his breast, "Breathes the fame focial warmth from foul to foul, "Till widening nature pants but for a whole. "Shines he in life's meridian beam difplay'd, "Or gives his milder virtues to the shade; "Glares the proud ribbon, nods the martial creft, "Or flaunt the tatters on his motly vest? "The godlike Briton fills his every sphere "Without a frailty, and without a fear. "If rich: bright image of the eternal mind, "His opening bofom takes in all mankind; "Where'er he comes, health triumphs o'er disease, "Hope glads despair, and anguish melts to ease. "Is knowledge his? he lends his every art

"To rear the genius and to mould the heart;

6.6

Fondly pursues, with Boyle's aufpicious blaze, "Truth thro' her mafques, and nature thro' her maze; To heedlefs juftice gives the well-poiz'd scale, "And raises commerce as he guides the fail. "Is pow'r his orb? he lives but to defend; "The statesman only dignifies the friend; "Difarms oppreffion, prunes ambition's wing, "And stifles faction e'er fhe darts her fting; "Enriches every coffer but his own,

"And fhields the cottage while he guards the throne; "Sees at his nod our plunder'd rights restor'd, "And Europe trembling when he grafps the sword.” Thus fung the mufe when fancy vigorous ran,

And warm'd the youth, e'er reason form'd the man ;