SONNET I. "Content, as random Fancies might inspire, BOWLES. Y heart has thanked thee, Bowles! for those soft strains Whose sadness soothes me, like the mur- Of wild-bees in the sunny showers of spring! A mingled charm, which oft the pang consigned As made the soul enamoured of her woe: SONNET II. late I lay in slumber's shadowy vale, With wetted cheek and in a mourner's guise, I saw the sainted form of Freedom rise: She spake! not sadder moans the autumnal gale— D "Great Son of Genius! sweet to me thy name, Thou bad'st oppression's hireling crew rejoice SONNET III. HOUGH roused by that dark Vizir Riot rude Have driven our Priestly o'er the ocean swell; Though superstition and her wolfish brood SONNET IV. HEN British Freedom for a happier land Spread her broad wings that fluttered with affright, Erskine! thy voice she heard, and paused Sublime of hope! For dreadless thou didst stand Of unmatched eloquence. Therefore thy name 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. Twas some Spirit, Sheridan! that breathed power! My soul hath marked thee in her shaping hour, Thy temples with Hymettian flowerets wreathed: And sweet thy voice, as when o'er Laura's bier That wafts soft dreams to slumber's listening ear. Swell the full tones! And now thine eye-beams dance SONNET VI. WHAT aloud and fearful shriek was there, As though a thousand souls one deathgroan poured! Ah me! they viewed beneath a hireling's Fallen Kosciusko! Through the burdened air The dirge of murdered Hope! while Freedom pale SONNET VII. S when far off the warbled strains are That soar on Morning's wing the vales among, Within his cage the imprisoned matin bird And Slavery's spectres shriek and vanish from the ray! SONNET VIII. HOU gentle look, that didst my soul beguile, Why hast thou left me? Still in some Revisit my sad heart, auspicious smile! |