A

Giant-bat, with leathern wings outfpread,
Umbrella light. hangs quiv'ring o'er her head.
As o'er the cliff her graceful ftep fhe bends,
On glitt ring wing her infect-train attends.
With diamond-eye her fealy tribes furvey
Their Goddefs-nymph, and gambol in the spray.

With earnest gaze the ftill, enamour'd crew Mark the fair forms; and, as they pass, pursue; But round the steepy rocks, and dangerous ftrand, Rolls the white furf, and fhipwreck guards the land.

So, when of old, Sicilian fhores along, Enchanting Syrens trill'd th' alluring fong, Bound to the maft the charm'd Ulyffes hears, And drinks the fweet tones with infatiate ears; Strains the frong cords, upbraids the profp'rous gale, And fighs, as Wifdom fpreads the flying fail.

Now leads HUMANITY the destin’d way, Where all the Loves in Otaheite tray.

two little tufts of curled white feathers, called its poies, which, being the Otaheitean word for ear-rings, occafioned our giving that name to the bird; which is not more remarkable for the beauty of its plumage, than for the exquisite melody of its note."

* A Giant-bat.--The bats which Captain Cook faw in fome of thefe countries were of incredible dimensions, meafuring three feet and a half in breadth, when their wings were extended.

+Rolls the white furf." As we paffed this ifland, many of its trees had an unusual appearance, and the richness of the vegetation much invited our naturalists to land, but their carneft wifhes were in vain, from the dangerous reels and the violence of the furfs."

To bid the Arts difclofe their wond'rous pow'rs,
To bid the Virtues confecrate the bow'rs,
She gives her Hero to its blooming plain.-
Nor has he wander'd, has he bled in vain!
His lips perfuafive charm the uncn'tur'd youth,
Teach Wifdom's lore, and point the path of Truth.
See! *chaften'd love in fofter glances flows,
See! with new fires parental duty glows.

Thon fmiling Eden of the fouthern wave,
Could not, alas! thy grateful wishes fave
That angel-goodness, which had blefs'd thy plain ?--
Ah vain thy gratitude, thy wifes vain!

On a far diftant, and remorfelets shore,
Where human fiends their dire libations pour:
Where treachery, hov'ring o'er the blafted heath,
Poifes with ghaftly fmile the darts of death,
Pierc'd by their venom'd points, your favorite bleeds,
And on his limbs the luft of hunger feeds!

Thus when, of old, the Mufc-born Orpheus bore
Fair Arts and Virtues to the Thracian fhore;
Struck with fweet energy the warbling wire,
And pour'd perfuafion from the immortal lyre;
As foften'd brutes, the waving woods among,
Bow'd their meek heads, and liften'd to the fong;
Near, and more near, with rage and tumult loud,
Round the bold bard th' inebriate maniacs crowd.-
Red on th' ungrateful foil his life-blood swims,
And Fiends and Furies tear his quiv'ring limbs!

*Chaften'd love.-Captain Cook obferves, in his fecond voyage, that the women of Otaheite where grown more modeft, and that the barbarous practice of defroying their children was leffened.

Gay Eden of the fouth, thy tribute pay, And raife, in pomp of woe, thy Cook's * Morai! Bid mild Omiah bring his choicest stores, The juicy fruits, and the luxuriant flow'rs; Bring the bright plumes, that drink the torrid ray, And ftrew each lavish fpoil on Cook's Morai!

Come, Oberea, hapless fair-one! come, With piercing fhrieks bewail thy Hero's doom She comes!he gazes round with dire furvey! Oh! fly the mourner on her frantic way. See! fee! the pointed ivory wounds that head, Where late the Loves impurpled roses spread; Now ftain'd with gore, het raven-treffes flow, In ruthless negligence of mad'ning woe; Loud fhe laments 1-and long the Nymph fhall ftray With wild unequal ftep round Cook's Morai!

But ah!-aloft on Albion's rocky steep,
That frowns incumbent o'er the boiling deep,
Solicitous, and fad, a fofter form

Eyes the lone flood, and deprecates the ftorm.-
Ill-fated matron!-for, alas! in vain

Thy eager glances wander o'er the main !-
'Tis the vex'd billows, that infurgent rave,
Their white foam filvers yonder distant wave,

*Morai. The Morai is a kind of funeral altar, which the people of Otaheite raise to the memory of their deceafed friends. They bring to it a daily tribute of fruits, flowers, and the plumage of birds. The chief mourner wanders around it in a state of apparent diftraction, fhrieking furiously, and striking at intervals a fhark's tooth into her head. All people fly her, as fhe aims at wounding not only herself, but others.

'Tis not his fails!-thy husband comes no more!
His bones now whiten an accurfed fhore!
Retire, for hark! the fea-gull fhrieking foars,
The lurid atmosphere portentous low'rs;
Night's fullen fpirit groans in ev'ry gale,
And o'er the waters draws the darkling veil,
Sighs in thy hair, and chills thy throbbing breaft-
Go, wretched mourner!-weep thy griefs to reft!

Yet, tho' through life is loft each fond delight,
Tho' fet thy earthly fun in dreary night,
Oh! raife thy thoughts to yonder ftarry plain,
And own thy forrow felfifh, weak, and vain;
Since, while Brittannia, to his virtues juft,
Twines the bright wreath, and rears th' immortal buî;
While on each wind of heav'n his fame shall rife,
In endless incenfe to the fmiling skies;

THE ATTENDANT POWER, that bade his fails expand,
And waft her bleffings to each barren land,
Now raptur'd bears him to th' immortal plains,
Where Mercy hails him with congenial trains;
Where foars, on Joy's white plume, his fpirit free,
And angels choir him, while he waits for THEE,

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