Works

Cou'd aweful Johnson want poetic ear,
Fancy, or judgment? - no! his splendid strain,
In prose, or rhyme, confutes that plea. - The pain
Which writh'd o'er Garrick's fortunes, shows us clear...

FROM THE ITALIAN OF FILACAJA.


Here, from laborious Art, proud TOWNS, ye rose!
Here, in an instant, sunk! - nor ought remains
Of all ye were! - on the wide, lonely plains...

While with false pride, and narrow jealousy,
Numbers reject each new expression, won,
Perchance, from language richer than our own,
O! with glad welcome may the POET see...

Ceas'd is the rain; but heavy drops yet fall
From the drench'd roof; - yet murmurs the sunk wind
Round the dim hills; can yet a passage find
Whistling thro' yon cleft rock, and ruin'd wall....