MAN is the nobler growth our realms supply,
And SOULS are ripen'd in our northern sky.

Some, pensive creep along the shelly shore, Unfold the silky texture of a flower; With sharpen'd eyes inspect an hornet's sting, And all the wonders of an insect's wing. Some, trace with curious search the hidden cause Of nature's changes, and her various laws; Untwist her beauteous web, disrobe her charms, And hunt her to her elemental forms:

Or prove what hidden powers in herbs are found
To quench disease and cool the burning wound;
With cordial drops the fainting head sustain,
Call back the flitting soul, and still the throbs of pain.

The patriot passion this shall strongly feel;
Ardent, and glowing with undaunted zeal,
With lips of fire shall plead his country's cause,
And vindicate the majesty of laws.

This, cloth'd with Britain's thunder, spread alarms
Thro' the wide earth, and shake the pole with arms.

That, to the sounding lyre his deeds rehearse,

Enshrine his name in some immortal verse,

2*

To long posterity his praise consign,

And pay a life of hardships by a line.
While others, consecrate to higher aims,

Whose hallow'd bosoms glow with purer flames,
Love in their heart, persuasion in their tongue,
With words of peace shall charm the list'ning throng,
Draw the dread veil that wraps th' eternal throne,
And launch our souls into the bright unknown.

Here cease my song. Such arduous themes require A master's pencil and a poet's fire:

Unequal far such bright designs to paint,
Too weak her colours, and her lines too faint,
My drooping Muse folds up her fluttering wing,
And hides her head in the green lap of spring,

THE GROANS OF THE TANKARD.

Dulci digne mero !

HOKAT.

Or strange events I sing, and portents dire;

The wondrous themes a reverent ear require :
Tho' strange the tale, the faithful Muse believe,
And what she says with pious awe receive.

'Twas at the solemn, silent, noon-tide hour,
When hunger rages with despotic power,
When the lean student quits his Hebrew roots
For the gross nourishment of English fruits,
And throws unfinish'd airy systems by
For solid pudding and substantial pye,
When hungry poets the glad summons own,
And leave spare Fast to dine with Gods alone;
Our sober meal dispatch'd with silent haste,
The decent grace concludes the short repast:

Then, urg'd by thirst, we cast impatient eyes
Where deep, capacious, vast, of ample size,
The TANKARD stood, replenish'd to the brink
With the cold beverage blue-ey'd Naiads drink.
But lo a sudden prodigy appears,

And our chill'd hearts recoil with startling fears;
Its yawning mouth disclos'd the deep profound,
And in low murmurs breath'd a sullen sound;
Cold drops of dew did on the sides appear;
No finger touch'd it, and no hand was near;
At length th' indignant vase its silence broke,

First heav'd deep hollow groans, and then distinctly spoke.

"How chang'd the scene! for what unpardon'd

crimes

"Have I surviv'd to these degenerate times?

"I, who was wont the festal board to grace,

"And 'midst the circle lift my honest face, [snow, "White o'er with froth, like Etna crown'd with "Which mantled o'er the brown abyss below, "Where Ceres mingled with her goldon store "The richer spoils of either India's shore, "The dulcet reed the Western islands boast, "And spicy fruit from Banda's fragrant coast,

"At solemn feasts the nectar'd draught I pour'd, "And often journey'd round the ample board : "The portly Alderman, the stately Mayor, "And all the furry tribe my worth declare; "And the keen Sportsman oft, his labours done, "To me retreating with the setting sun, "Deep draughts imbib'd, and conquer'd land and sea, "And overthrew the pride of France-by me.

"Let meaner clay contain the limpid wave, "The clay for such an office nature gave;

"Let China's earth, enrich'd with coloured stains, "Pencil'd with gold, and streak'd with azure veins, "The grateful flavour of the Indian leaf, "Or Mocha's sunburnt berry glad receive;

"The nobler metal claims more generous use, "And mine should flow with more exalted juice. "Did I for this my native bed resign, "In the dark bowels of Potosi's mine? "Was I for this with violence torn away, “And dragg'd to regions of the upper day? "For this the rage of torturing furnace bore, "From foreign dross to purge the bright'ning ore? "For this have I endur'd the fiery test, [crest? "And was I stamp'd for this with Britain's lofty