Regular, with alternate rhime.

742

Behold! what storms | are gathering round,
Gloomy, and pregnant with England's destiny!
England! rouse thyself at the sound!

Behold! the Frenchman is at thy door!
Before the arrow of war be sped,
Meet it, and anticipate the stroke.
European powers! lend your assistance,
To exterminate the common enemy.

Anapastic Verses to be scanned.

See "Anapastic,"

in the Prosody, page 32.

743

The spirit of chivalry reign'd o'er the laws, When the glances of beauty decided the cause. 744

No arbour, no shade, and no verdure is seen;
For the trees and the turf are all colors but green.
745

My temples with clusters of grapes I'll entwine;
And I'll barter all joys for a goblet of wine.
In search of a Venus, no longer I'll run;
But I'll stop, and forget her, at Bacchus'es tun.
746 (See Nos. 755, and 756.)

All bold and erect ev'ry ruffian we meet;

[street.

And the coachmen, in tremors, scarce trot through the

1

With a flourishing whip they once gallop'd along,
And crush'd out the souls of the beggarly throng.
To fracture a leg was but reckon’d-a joke,

While the chariot was whirling through foam and through smoke.

747

Let them talk of the beauties, the graces, that dwell
In her shape, in her face, in her air.

I, too, of those beauties, those graces, could tell :
But, ah! what avails that she's fair?

I could say, that, in nature, each emblem is faint,
To express all the charms of her face.

Her form-oh! 'tis all that young Fancy can paint;
And her air, the perfection of grace.

But the frost of unkindness those blossoms can blight-Each charm, each perfection, can stain

Make the sweet-smiling Loves and the Graces take flight,

And ease the fond fool of his pain.

Come, Mirth, and thy train! Of thy joys let me share-
Those joys that euliven the soul.

With these, I'll forget that my Phyllis is fair.-
Love and care shall be drown'd in the bowl.

748

Ye pow'rs, who make Beauty and Virtue your care;
Let no sorrow my Phyllis molest!

Let no blast of misfortune intrude on the fair,
To ruffle the calm of her breast!

749

I have march'd, trumpets sounding, drums beating, flags flying,

Where the music of war drown'd the shrieks of the

You'

dying.

750.- Warranted Rasors.

warrant those rasors which now I have bought?".

"Yes, truly, I warrant them not worth a groat." 751. Robinson Crusoe*.

-

I am monarch of all I survey:
My right there is none to dispute.
From the centre all round to the sea,
I am lord of the fowl and the brute.
O solitude! what are the charms

That sages have seen in thy face?
Better dwell in the midst of alarms,
Than reign in this horrible place.
I am out of humanity's reach;

I must finish my journey alone, Never hear the sweet music of speech

* It may be proper to inform some of my young readers that the fictitious tale of Robinson Crusoe was built on the real story of Alexander Selkirk, a Scotchman, who had lived several years in total solitude on the island of Juan Fernandez. Upon kis return to England, he intrusted his papers to Daniel De Foe, to prepare them for the press, with the reasonable hope of deriving benefit from the publication of his extraordinary adventures. But De Foe, shamefully betraying his trust, stole from those papers the ground-work of his tale, which he published, for his own benefit, as an original piece---leaving poor Selkirk to Jament the confidence which he had unluckily placed in a man who could thus basely and cruelly rob him of all the advantages which he was entitled to reap from his past sufferings.

I start at the sound of my own....... Society, friendship, and love,

Divinely bestow'd upon men! Oh! had I the wings of a dove,

How soon would I taste you again!......
Ye winds, that have made me your sport,
Convey to this desolate shore

Some cordial endearing report
Of a land I shall visit no more.

Anapastics to be versified.

Anapastics of four feet. Each line to make a verse, and each couplet to rhime.-N. B. It is of no consequence whether the first foot of each verse consist of two syllables or of three, provided that the last syllable of that foot be accented.- See page 32.

752

Adieu to the woodlands, where, gay and sportive,
The cattle play so frolesome, light bounding.

753

Adieu to the woodlands, where I have rov'd oft, And, with the friend that I lov'd, convers'd sweetly.

754

Content and joy are now fled from our dwellings; And, instead, disease and want are our inmates. 755. The French Revolution,

Now chivalry is dead, and Galla run'd ;
And the glory of Europe is fled for ever.

756

No distinctions remain: lost is all order:

Crosses, ribbons, and titles, obtain no rev'rence.
757

All ranks, all ages, all nations, shall combine
In this divine and just war of benevolence.

758

Though, from dunghills, meteors arise with lustre, Is the filth, left behind, like the flame in the skies? 759

A singular custom prevails at Pavia,

To protect, from jails and bailiffs, the poor debtor.

In my eye there's no grief, though my cheek may be And 'tis seldom I give a sigh to sad mem❜ry.

You'll soon fly afar from country and from friends, To havoc and to camps, to war and to rage.

762

His case I remember'd, though scant was my wallet, Nor, to his pitiful face, refus'd my last crust.

763

Blind, forsaken, and poor, where shall I now go? Can I find one so kind and faithful, to guide me?

Her limbs could then no more support their faint And she sank on the floor breathless and exhausted,

765

The hotter the fight, we still grow the fiercer.
So we conquer the foe, the loss we heed not.