O'er this new world, thus has Britannia's arms Reftor'd loft peace, and exil'd war's alarms; Again rich commerce crowns the merchant's toil, And fmiling Ceres paints the pregnant foil. Thus the good fhepherd, when he views from far The deadly wolves befet his fleecy care,

Quick to their help his guardian crook he wields, And foon the prowling throng is fcatter'd o'er the fields.

Yet not to us is Britain's care confin'd,

Her fame is wafted to remotest Ind;

By justice call'd, her chiefs, with matchlefs fwords,
Have humbled mighty Afia's proudest lords;
Far diftant scenes her martial deeds proclaim,
And Pondicherry bows to Britain's name.

See the fad chance of all-deftructive war-
See LALLY captiv'd at the victor's car;
Lally, whofe foul the madd'ning furies claim,
And curs'd with longings for the voice of fame.
So when a tyger, flush'd with reeking blood,
Ramps o'er the plains, and tears the leafy wood,
A lion fpies him from his fecret cave,

Burfts from his ftand, to feize th' infulting flave;
Then hunts him, gen'rous, from the neighb'ring fields,
And peace and fafety to the foreft yields.

O'er Europe too, great George's arms prevail,
And on its feas his fleets triumphant fail;
Witness Belleifle, around whofe wave-worn fhore
His navies ride, and his loud cannons roar.
Oh! could we boast the feeds of epic fong,
Immortal Frederick should the verse prolong;
The chief fhould fhine, inclos'd with fields of dead,
And guardian-angels hov'ring round his head;
There, in dread chains, the barb'rous Rufs fhould
bow,

And here, fubmiffive, kneel th' Hungarian foe;
There should be seen to bend, the fons of Gaul,
Here leffer troops, his enemies, should fall.
Thus a firm rock, begirt with raging waves,
Stands the fierce charge, tho' all the tempeft raves;
Now round his fummit dafh the broken tides,

And vainly beat his adamantine fides!
But these we leave to deck th' historic page,
And wake the wonder of a future age.

Now let our muse the Paphian trumpet blow, Beauty's the theme, and melting strains fhall flow. See Neptune, mounting with his nereid train, To fmooth the furface of the azure main;

As confcious of his charge, he joys to please

The beauteous CHARLOTTE, mistress of the feas!

The

The jovial failors ply their fhining oars,

And now they reach fair Albion's white-cliff fhores;
With warbling flutes, and hautboy's pleasing found,
They spread sweet music's filver notes around.
On Cydnus ftream, fo once array'd was feen
Fair Cleopatra, Egypt's beauteous Queen.

But here we fix, rejoic'd to see you bleft,
And Britain's glory in each clime confest!

N. B. The New-Year's Verses for 1763, are omitted, the fubstance of them being included in the Poem, entitled, HEROIC STANZAS on the fucceffes of 1762, p. 64, &c.

On completing my One and Twentieth Year of Age.

ATHER* of old oblivion, hail!

FA

Reftrain thy fwift-revolving glass;

If foothing verfe can ought avail,
To charm thy moments as they pass.
Still fhall I let thee onward glide,
To waft me down thy boundless tide,
And unimprov'd remain my foul,

When twenty-one quick fummers from me thou

Adieu! amufements of my youth,
My childhood and my boyish days!
For virtue, probity, and truth,
I quit my sports and frolic lays!
Yet will remembrance bring to view,
The years, in playful blifs, that flew,
When careless of the paffing hours,

My whistle sweet I blew, or cull'd the mufe's flow'rs!

Then oft in Schuylkill's filver wave,
Or Delaware's majestic tide,
My limbs, delighted, would I lave,
Or thro' the foamy billow's glide;
Then chase the ployer o'er the brake,
Or treach❜ry caft along the lake,

Pleas'd to delude the finny fry,

The perch with glittering scales, or trout of golden

dye.

Oft too, as Sol's refplendent ray

With ardour beam'd thro' Cancer's fign,

Would I the river's margent ftray,

Or on its velvet brink recline.

Then would Fancy ope her treasures,

Pouring on the mind new pleasures,

Unlocking all her fairy scenes

Of gay enamell'd groves and fweet Elysian greens.

How

How would fhe then uncurtain fate,

And fnatch the foul to yonder sky,
Events unknown to man create,
And read conceal'd futurity?

Or, ages old revolving o'er,

Their worthies place my eyes before;

Hero or patriot, faint or fage,

Or who e'er fmote the lyre with bold poetic rage.

Flush'd with these glowing visions bright,

What noble frenzy feiz'd the foul!
Each phantom then of dear delight
Would round the impaffion'd eye-balls roll
Then o'er my temples oft the muse
Vouchfaf'd to fhed nectareous dews;

How would I eye her ivy crown,

And pant, in youthful heat, for deathlefs fair renown?

But hence, ye dear delufions all,

'Tis time I tear you from my breast; Methinks! I hear fweet Reason call, "Be not with empty dreams poffeft!" Away, ye pleasing shades away, . I brook no longer fond delayReluctant still ye from me fly,

Your airy forms I fee yet flit before my eye!

But