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COMPOSED BY THI
SEA-SIDE, near CALAIS,
Fair Star of Evening, Splendor of the West,
Should'st be my Country's emblem; and should'st wink,
In thy fresh beauty. There! that dusky spot
Is it a Reed that's shaken by the wind,
Or what is it that ye go forth to see?
Lords, Lawyers, Statesmen, Squires of low degree,
Men known, and men unknown, Sick, Lame, and Blind, Post forward all, like Creatures of one kind,
With first-fruit offerings crowd to bend the knee
In France, before the new-born Majesty.
In haste, nor springing with a transient shower:
Shame on you, feeble Heads, to slavery prone!
TO A FRIEND,
On the Road leading to Ardres, August 7th, 1802.
Jones! when from Calais southward you
Travell❜d on foot together; then this Way,
A homeless sound of joy was in the Sky;
Beat like the heart of Man: songs, garlands, play,
And now, sole register that these things were,
"Good morrow, Citizen!” a hollow word,
Fair seasons yet will come, and hopes as fair.
I griev❜d for Buonaparte, with a vain
And an unthinking grief! the vital blood
Of that Man's mind what can it be? What food
Fed his first hopes? What knowledge could He gain?
'Tis not in battles that from youth we train
The Governor who must be wise and good,
And temper with the sternness of the brain