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SONG,

INTENDED TO HAVE BEEN SUNG IN THE COMEDY OF

" SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER."

AH me! when shall I marry me?
Lovers are plenty; but fail to relieve me.
He, fond youth, that could carry me,
Offers to love, but means to deceive me.

But I will rally, and combat the ruiner :

Not a look, not a smile, shall my passion discover. She that gives all to the false one pursuing her, Makes but a penitent, and loses a lover,

STANZAS

ON THE

TAKING OF QUEBEC.

AMIDST the clamour of exulting joys,

Which triumph forces from the patriot heart, Grief dares to mingle her soul-piercing voice, And quells the raptures which from pleasures start.

O Wolfe! to thee a streaming flood of woe, Sighing we pay, and think e'en conquest dear; Quebec in vain shall teach our breasts to glow, Whilst thy sad fate extorts the heart-wrung tear,

Alive, the foe thy dreadful vigour fled,

And saw thee fall with joy-pronouncing eyes: Yet they shall know thou conquerest, though dead; Since from thy tomb a thousand heroes rise.

EPITAPH

ON

DR. PARNELL.

THIS tomb, inscrib'd to gentle Parnell's name,

May speak our gratitude, but not his fame.
What heart but feels his sweetly-moral lay,

That leads to truth through pleasure's flow'ry way!
Celestial themes confess'd his tuneful aid;

And heaven, that lent him genius, was repaid.
Needless to him the tribute we bestow,

The transitory breath of fame below:

More lasting rapture from his works shall rise,
While converts thank their poet in the skies.

EPITAPH

ON

EDWARD PURDON*.

HERE lies poor Ned Purdon, from misery freed,

Who long was a bookseller's hack;

He led such a damnable life in this world,

I don't think he 'll wish to come back.

* Mr. Purdon was educated at Trinity-College, Dublin; but having wasted his patrimony, he inlisted as a foot-soldier. Growing tired of that employment, he obtained his discharge, and became a scribbler in the newspapers. He translated Voltaire's HENRIADE.

AN ELEGY

ON THE GLORY OF HER SEX,

MRS. MARY BLAIZE.

GOOD people all, with one accord,

Lament for Madam Blaize,

Who never wanted a good word

From those who spoke her praise.

The needy seldom pass'd her door,
And always found her kind;
She freely lent to all the poor-
Who left a pledge behind.

She strove the neighbourhood to please, With manners wondrous winning; And never follow'd wicked ways

Unless when she was sinning.

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