"Their earnest tales, or watch their rising passions "With timorous attention; then shall tell "Of justice, fortitude and public weal, "And oft the while each rigid precept smooth "With winning tokens of parental love!" Thus my o'erweening heart the secret stores Of Britain's hope explor'd, while my strain'd sight Pursued her fading hills, till wrapt in mist They gently sunk beneath the swelling tide. Nor slept those thoughts, whene'er in other climes I mark'd the cruel waste of foul oppression, Saw noblest spirits, and goodliest faculties, To vassalage and loathsome service bound. Then conscious preference rose; then northward turn'd My eye, to gratulate my natal soil. How have I chid with froward eagerness Each veering blast, that from my hand witheld The well known characters of some lov'd friend, Tho' distant, not unmindful? Still I learn'd Delighted, what each patriot plan devis'd Of arts, or glory, or diffusive commerce. Nor wanted its endearment every tale Of lightest import. But oh! heavy change, What notices come now? Distracted scenes Of helpless sorrow, solemn sad accounts; How fair AUGUSTA watch'd the weary night Tending the bed of anguish; how great GEORGE Wept with his infant progeny around; How heav'd the orphan's and the widow's sigh, That follow'd FREDERIC to the silent tomb. For well was FREDERIC lov'd; and well deserv'd: His voice was ever sweet, and on his steps Attended ever the alluring grace Of gentle lowliness and social zeal. Him shall remember oft the labour'd hind, Relating to his mates each casual act Of courteous bounty. Him th' artificer, Plying the varied woof in sullen sadness, Tho' wont to carrol many a ditty sweet. Soon too the mariner, who many moons Has counted, beating still the foamy surge, And treads at last the wish'd-for beach, shall stand Appall'd at the sad tale, and soon shall steal Down his rough cheek th' involuntary tear. Be this our solace yet, all is not dead; The bright memorial lives: for his example Shall Hymen trim his torch, domestic praise Be countenanc'd, and virtue fairer shew. In age succeeding, when another GEORGE, To ratify some weighty ordinance Of Britain's peers conven'd, shall pass beside Those hallowed spires, whose gloomy vaults enclose, Shrouded in sleep, pale rows of scepter'd kings, Oft to his sense the sweet paternal voice And long-remember'd features shall return; Then shall his generous breast be new inflam'd To acts of highest worth, and highest fame. These plaintive strains from ALBION far away, I lonely meditate at even-tide; Nor skill'd nor studious of the raptur'd lay; But still remembring oft the magic sounds, Well-measur'd to the chime of Dorian lute, Or past'ral stop, which erst I lov'd to hear