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Compared with the speed of its fight, The tempest itself lags behind,
And the swift winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land,
In a moment I seem to be there;
The beast is laid down in his lair;
And I to my cabin repair. There's mercy in every place,
And mercy, encouraging thought! Gives even affliction a grace,
And reconciles man to his lot.
ON THE PROMOTION OF
EDWARD THURLOW, ESQ.
TO THE LORD HIGH CHANCELLORSHIP OF
And in his sportive days,
The experienced and the sage,
Prociaim him born to sway The balance in the highest place,
And bear the palm away,
The praise bestowed was just and wise ;
He sprang impetuous forth
Ere yet he starts is known,
What all had deemed his own.
ODE TO PEACE.
I. COME, peace of mind, delightful gueft! Return and make thy downy neft
Once more in this fad heart : Nor riches I nor power pursue, Nor hold forbidden joys in view;
We therefore need not part.
11. Where wilt thou dwell, if not with me, From avarice and ambition free,
And pleasure's fatal wiles ?
And wilt thou quit the stream,
Whatever I loved before;
Farewell! we meet no more?
HUMAN FR AILTY.
I. Weak and irrefolute is man;
The purpose of to-day,
Vice seems already Nain;
Finds out his weaker part; Virtue engages his affent,
But pleasure wins his heart.
'Tis here the folly of the wise
Through all his art we view;
His conscience owns it true.