Then haply shall my trembling hand assign SONNET I. "Content, as random Fancies might inspire, BOWLES. My heart has thanked thee, Bowles! for those soft strains Whose sadness soothes me, like the murmuring went: And when the mightier throes of mind began, Bidding a strange mysterious Pleasure brood As the great Spirit erst with plastic sweep SONNET II. As late I lay in slumber's shadowy vale, Thou bad'st Oppression's hireling crew rejoice Thee stormy Pity and the cherished lure SONNET III. THOUGH roused by that dark Vizir Riot rude SONNET IV. WHEN British Freedom for a happier land flight Sublime of hope! For dreadless thou didst stand (Thy censer glowing with the hallowed flame) A hireless Priest before the insulted shrine, And at her altar pour the stream divine Of unmatched eloquence. Therefore thy name Her sons shall venerate, and cheer thy breast With blessings heaven-ward breathed. And when the doom Of Nature bids thee die, beyond the tomb Thy light shall shine: as sunk beneath the West Though the great Summer Sun eludes our gaze, Still burns wide Heaven with his distended blaze. SONNET V. It was some Spirit, Sheridan! that breathed That wafts soft dreams to Slumber's listening ear. Swell the full tones! And now thine eye-beams dance Meanings of Scorn and Wit's quaint revelry! SONNET VI. O WHAT a loud and fearful shriek was there, The dirge of murdered Hope! while Freedom pale Had gathered in a mystic urn each tear Fit channel found, and she had drained the bowl SONNET VII. As when far off the warbled strains are heard |