Ye patriot legions charge-repel-
Fall freemen as your fathers fell!
Here shall your blood's impetuous swell
Proclaim your glorious ancestry!

-Victor no more!-yield, Valour, yield
Thy sacred arms and shatter'd shield,
And humbled on thy chosen field,
Await the chains of tyranny.—

-Master of Fate !-Thy laurels hide,
No glory beams where Freedom died:
Tear from the Gallic standards wide

The insulted crest of Liberty.

Beneath that sign, in ages rude,
Hath many a band of freemen stood,
O'er hills of ice and fields of blood,

To charge the invading ravager!

They fought they fell-ye sons of fame, You blush not for your country's shame ; Could not your deeds and victor name Redeem her holy solitudes ?

What echoing plain, what mountain hoar, Heard not your storm of battle roar?— That trump is hush'd-to sound no more, That led the free to victory!

Yet, Freedom, o'er thy lost abode, Which many a godlike foot hath trode, What heart shall trace thy trophied road, Nor burn to 'venge thy destiny!

EPILOGUE

ΤΟ

"THE WONDER; OR, A WOMAN KEEPS A SECRET."

Intended to have been spoken, in the character of Violante, at a private Theatre, in Hampshire. 1787.

BY S. E. BRYDGES, ESQ.

WELL; I am glad that we to-night have shewn
These hacknied taunts of men we can disown.
But poor weak woman's faults in every age
Must be the silly joke on every stage;

And if perchance these fellows draw our pictures,
Where in some noble action we are victors,

Why then forsooth all merit to divest,

The mighty Wonder makes the saucy jest.
Our vanity, our love of dress and show,
Are themes for sneers with every paltry beau.
But let us pry a little in the mind

Of these same fellows, to themselves so blind!
Why, of a drizzling cold December morn,
Before 'tis light, when sounds the echoing horn
Why do they, shiv'ring by some covert's side
With vain pretence the piercing cold deride?

Then at a distance still pursue the pack,
Till eve the grateful respite shall bring back;
Why but among their friends as vain as they
To boast the mighty honors of the day?
Why do these men, on London's proud parade,
Their cars in all the rainbow's hues array'd,
Till the sight wearies, drive them to and fro;
Why but their tinsel trappings still to show?
Then as to dress-they too are fond of flashes;
Their wardrobe's stores, their tricks, their paint, their
washes;

The many hours they to the toilet spare,
Would make the very vainest female stare.—
Then forth they wander, and in every street
Some silly coxcomb one is sure to meet,
Who seems to say-" I look so well to-day,
"Methinks no female heart goes safe away."
Coquets at heart by tenfold more than we,
To wound a female bosom is their glee:
Their power once proved, they laugh to see the dart
Transfix for life some wretched woman's heart.

Now for the Wonder if we keep a Secret !—
When their faith's pledg'd, pray do they never break it?
Yes, yes, if ever in a yielding hour,

Fond woman puts her virtue in their power,

On their tongue's tip the mighty secret lies;

Round the next room they meet, the whisper flies, And her whose honor they are bound to prize, Thus to mere Vanity they sacrifice.—

But we a Woman's Secret kept can boast, E'en tho' we mourn a faithful lover lost.

"THE ORPHAN SAILOR-BOY."

BY EDMUND L. SWIFT, ESQ.

1.

TOM HAULYARD was a Seaman brave,

Thro' life a gallant Tar was he;

His cradle was the rocking wave,
His birth-right was the roaring sea:

2.

Twice thirty Years TOM HAULYARD fought,
So long a spotless name he bore;

Nor e'er the hardy veteran sought

Retreat or rest on Britain's shore.

3.

Three noble Sons around him stood

In all the pride of strength and health ; And, while each manly form he view'd,

Kings might have envied HAULYARD'S wealth.

4.

But Toм, his namesake, best he lov'd,
My father was his eldest joy;
Yet well a parent's fondness prov'd
The love he bore each darling Boy.-

5.

Now Britain's foes provok'd the war,
And now their fleets usurp'd the tide ;
And hasten'd now each loyal tar

To raise her standard's fearless pride:

6.

Now in the honor'd ship that bore

The auspicious sign of CHARLOTTE's name, Intrepid HowE from Britain's shore

To meet the foes of Britain came.

7.

Oh, peace be on the hallow'd tomb
Of him who never knew to fear;
And ever may his laurels bloom,
Bedew'd with Britain's grateful tear!

8.

And now advanc'd the daring foe,

And now each. British heart beat high :Oh God!-How many wounds must flow, How many Christian men must die!

9.

The Squadrons meet-the dread array
Stands in a moment's awful pause—
Our Chief to Glory leads the way,
To Glory gain'd in Britain's cause.—

10.

Oh Christ! It was a fearful sight

To see the wounds that countless bled;

But oh, the horrors of the fight

To tell, would wake the sleeping, dead!

11.

Among the rest TOM HAULYARD stood,
Full six feet high the Veteran rose;

A rock above the rolling flood,

He hurl'd back ruin on his foes.