Let this rough fragment lend its mossy seat; Let Contemplation hail this lone retreat: Come, meek-eyed goddess, through the midnight gloom, Born of the silent awe which robes the tomb!...
Sons of Renown! ye heirs of matchless fame, Whose Sires in Glory's path victorious fell; Adding new honors to the British name, That future ages shall with transport tell. ...
Swift through the land while Fame transported flies, And shouts triumphant shake the illumin'd skies; Britannia, bending o'er her dauntless prows, With laurels thickening round her blazon'd brows,...
Swift through the land while Fame transported flies, And shouts triumphant shake th' illumined skies; Britannia, bending o'er her dauntless prows, With laurels thickening round her blazon'd brows,...
Now when dun Night her shadowy veil has spread, See want and infamy, as forth they come, Lead their wan daughter from her branded home, To woo the stranger for unhallow'd bread....
Can it be true, so fragrant and so fair, To give thy perfumes to the dews of night? Can aught so beautiful, despise the glare, And fade, and sicken in the morning light? ...