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What are the blessings of the sight,
O tell your poor blind boy!
You talk of wondrous things you see,
You say the sun shines bright;
Or make it day or night?
My day or night myself I make
Whene'er I sleep or play ;
With me 't were always day.
With heavy sighs I often hear
You mourn my hapless woc;
A loss I ne'er can know.
Then let not what I cannot have
My cheer of mind destroy :
ON A FAVOURITE CAT, DROWNED IN A
TUB OF GOLD FISHES
’T Where China's prayest airlshad dyed
The azure flowers that blow,
Her conscious tail her joy declared :
Still had she gazed, but ’midst the tide
The hapless Nymph with wonder saw :
Presumptuous maid ! with looks intent
Eight times emerging from the flood
From hence, ye Beauties ! undeceived
TO CHARLOTTE PULTENEY
"IMELY blossom, Infant fair,
Fondling of a happy pair,
Like the linnet in the nest :
Ever-busy Time prepares ;
HEN Britain first at Heaven's command
Arose from out the azure main, This was the charter of her land,
And guardian angels sung the strain : Rule Britannia ! Britannia rule the waves !
Britons never shall be slaves.
The nations not so blest as thee
Must in their turn to tyrants fall, Whilst thou shalt flourish great and free
The dread and envy of them all.
Still more majestic shalt thou rise,
More dreadful from each foreign stroke; As the loud blast that tears the skies
Serves but to root thy native oak.
Thee haughty tyrants ne'er shall tame;
All their attempts to bend thee down Will but arouse thy generous flame,
And work their woe and thy renown.
To thee belongs the rural reign ;
Thy cities shall with commerce shine ;
And every shore it circles thine !
The Muses, still with Freedom found,
Shall to thy happy coast repair ;
And manly hearts to guard the fair :
UIN seize thee, ruthless King !
Tho’ fann'd by Conquest's crimson wing
They mock the air with idle state.
Of the first Edward scatter'd wild dismay,
He wound with toilsome march his long array : Stout Glo'ster stood aghast in speechless trance ; To arms !' cried Mortimer, and couch'd his quivering