Or to object; at length (my mournful look
Heaven-ward erect) determin'd, thus I spoke :
"Supreme, all-wise, eternal Potentate!

Sole Author, sole Disposer of our fate!
Enthron'd in light and immortality,

Whom no man fully sees, and none can see!
Original of beings! Power divine!

Since that I live, and that I think, is thine!
Benign Creator! let thy plastic hand
Dispose its own effect; let thy command
Restore, Great Father! thy instructed son;
And in my act may thy great will be done!"

THE THIEF AND THE CORDELIER,

A BALLAD:

To the Tune of King John and the Abbot of Canterbury.

WHO has e'er been at Paris, must needs know the Grève,

The fatal retreat of th' unfortunate brave;

Where Honour and Justice most oddly contribute
To ease heroes' pains by a halter and gibbet.
Derry down, down, hey derry down.

There Death breaks the shackles which Force had [begun ;

put on,

And the hangman completes what the judge but

There the squire of the pad, and the knight of the [no more crost.

post,

Find their pains no more balk'd, and their hopes Derry down, &c.

Great claims are there made, and great secrets

are known;

[own. And the king, and the law, and the thief, has his But my hearers cry out, "What a deuce dost thou

ail?

Cut off thy reflections, and give us thy tale."
Derry down, &c.

'Twas there then, in civil respect to harsh laws, And for want of false witness to back a bad cause, A Norman, though late, was obliged to appear; And who to assist, but a grave Cordelier! Derry down, &c.

The squire, whose good grace was to open the

scene,

[begin:

Seem'd not in great haste that the show should
Now fitted the halter, now travers'd the cart,

And often took leave, but was loth to depart.
Derry down, &c.

"What frightens you thus, my good son?" says

the priest:

"You murder'd, are sorry, and have been confest." "O father! my sorrow will scarce save my bacon; For 'twas not that I murder'd, but that I was taken.” Derry down, &c.

"Pough! pr'ythee ne'er trouble thy head with

such fancies:

Rely on the aid you shall have from Saint Francis: If the money you promis'd be brought to the chest, You have only to die: let the church do the rest. Derry down, &c.

"And what will folks say, if they see you afraid? It reflects upon me, as I knew not my trade : Courage, friend; for to-day is your period of sorrow ; And things will go better, believe me, to-morrow." Derry down, &c.

to-night."

"To-morrow!" our hero replied, in a fright: "He that's hang'd before noon, ought to think of [truss'd up, "Tell your beads," quoth the priest, "and be fairl For you surely to-night shall in Paradise sup." Derry down, &c.

"Alas!" quoth the squire, "howe'er sumptuous the treat,

Parbleu! I shall have little stomach to eat;

I should therefore esteem it great favour and grace,
Would you be so kind as to go in my place."
Derry down, &c.

"That I would," quoth the father, "and thank
you to boot;

But our actions, you know, with our duty must suit.
The feast I propos'd to you, I cannot taste;
For this night, by our order, is mark'd for a fast."
Derry down, &c.

Then, turning about to the hangman, he said, "Dispatch me, I pr'ythee, this troublesome blade; For thy cord and my cord both equally tie,

And we live by the gold for which other men die.” Derry down, &c.

A SONG.

In vain you tell your parting lover,
You wish fair winds may waft him over.
Alas! what winds can happy prove,
That bear me far from what I love?
Alas! what dangers on the main
Can equal those that I sustain,
From slighted vows, and cold disdain?

Be gentle, and in pity choose
To wish the wildest tempests loose :
That, thrown again upon the coast
Where first my shipwreck'd heart was lost,
I may once more repeat my pain;
Once more in dying notes complain
Of slighted vows, and cold disdain.

THE GARLAND.

THE pride of every grove I chose,
The violet sweet and lily fair,

The dappled pink, and blushing rose,
To deck my charming Chloe's hair.

At morn the nymph vouchsaf'd to place
Upon her brow the various wreath;
The flowers less blooming than her face,

The scent less fragrant than her breath.

The flowers she wore along the day:

And every nymph and shepherd said,
That in her hair they look'd more gay
Than glowing in their native bed.

Undrest at evening, when she found
Their odours lost, their colours past;
She chang'd her look, and on the ground
Her garland and her eye she cast.

That eye dropt sense distinct and clear,
As any Muse's tongue could speak,
When from its lid a pearly tear

Ran trickling down her beauteous cheek.

Dissembling what I knew too well,

My love, my life," said I, "explain This change of humour: pr'ythee tell: That falling tear -what does it mean?"

She sigh'd; she smil'd; and, to the flowers
Pointing, the lovely moralist said :
"See, friend, in some few fleeting hours,
See yonder, what a change is made!

"Ah, me! the blooming pride of May,
And that of Beauty, are but one :
At morn both flourish bright and gay;
Both fade at evening, pale, and gone.