LINES,

TO THE MEMORY OF A LADY.

Bring the sad cypress wreath to grace the tomb,
  Where rests the liberal friend of human kind,
Around its base let deathless flow’rets bloom,
  Wet with the off’rings of the grateful mind.

Firm was thy friendship, ardent, and sincere;
  Gen’rous thy soul, to ev’ry suff’rer prov’d: 
Rest, sainted shade! blest with the heart-felt tear,
  On earth lamented, and in heaven belov’d.

Now will the widow weep that thou art gone,
  Who oft her unprotected babes hast fed: 
While tottering age shall heave the sigh forlorn,
  As slow they move to beg their bitter bread.

Long shall the memory of thy worth survive,
  Grav’d on the heart, when sinks the trophied stone;
Oh! may the plenty-bless’d as freely give,
  And from thy life of virtue form their own.

SONG.

THE RECALL OF THE HERO.

When discord blew her fell alarm
  On Gallia’s blood-stain’d ground;
When usurpation’s giant arm
  Enslav’d the nations round: 
The thunders of avenging heaven
To Nelson’s chosen hand were given;
By Nelson’s chosen hand were hurl’d
To rescue the devoted world!

The tyrant pow’r, his vengeance dread,
  To Egypt’s shores pursued;
At Trafalgar its hydra-head
  For ever sunk subdued. 
The freedom of mankind was won! 
The hero’s glorious task was done! 
When heaven, oppression’s ensigns furl’d,
Recall’d him from the rescued world.

LINES,

WRITTEN ON SEEING THE CHILDREN OF THE NAVAL ASYLUM.[*]

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.

Yet not unpity’d nor forgot they die,
  For gen’rous Britons to their mem’ry raise;
A tribute will their children’s wants supply,
  A living monument of grateful praise.

To the sad mother, who, in speechless grief,
  Mourn’d o’er her infant’s unprotected state,
Benignant charity affords relief,
  And bids her bosom glow, with joy elate.

Great your reward who thus impassion’d move,
  By nature taught the heart’s persuasive play;
Such deeds your God with pleasure shall approve,
  And endless blessings cheer your parting day.

What better boon can feeling hearts bestow,
  What nobler ornament can deck our isle;
Than one that robs the wretched of their woe,
  And makes the widow and the orphan smile?

[Footnote:  A Society, established by Voluntary Contributions, for the Support and Education of the Children of the Sailors and Marines, who have fallen during the War.]

ROSA’S GRAVE.