I expect neither profit nor general fame by my writings; and I consider myself as having been amply repaid without either. Poetry has been to me its own "exceeding great reward:" it has soothed my afflictions; it has multiplied and refined my enjoyments; it has endeared solitude; and it has given me the habit of wishing to discover the Good and the Beautiful in all that meets and surrounds me. S. T. C. My heart has thanked thee, Bowles! II. As late I lay in slumber's shadowy vale III. Though roused by that dark Vizir Riot rude. When British Freedom for a happier land. It was some Spirit, Sheridan! that breathed VII. As when far off the warbled strains are heard VIII. Thou gentle look, that didst my soul beguile IX. Pale Roamer through the night! Sweet Mercy! how my very heart has bled 14 |