John Lees Courtenay.

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an aBIeg:g on W Deatft^

Nos juvenem exanuTTjm, et nil jam cceleftlbus ullia
Debeacem, vano moefti comitamur honore.


ILonlion s






L E G Y to the Memory of John Courtenay . i

Ode, — Henrici Quinti Laudes 7

Ode,— Dies Natalis lO

Latin Epigram 12

A Claflical Apology for Phyficians ib.

Tranflatlons from. Tyrtaeus,

Elegy the Firft 13

Second 16

Third 17

Fourth 18

Ode Addrefled to Emma .20

Verfes addreffed to Mifs M***L*** . . 24

Cowley's Ode on Wit, Paraphrafed .... 26

To Emma on her Birth Day 31

Verfes Addrefled to Emma, on her going to

Windfor 32

Verfes on Ambition 35

The Nuns Song 38

Republican Song 39

The Prophet's Miflake, or the Illumined Turnip 40

Epigram * 45

To Mrs. Blair, on her Copying SacharifTu's Picture 46






— — — OuTE (jLOi y\mg
H^'ej, 8t' a«TIJ CiiKS^ >j£Xioy.

O SHADE belov'd, ftill prefent to my fight,
My daily vifion, and my dream by night !
In all thy youthful bloom thou feem'ft to rife,
With filial love yet beaming from thy eyes.
Such were thy looks, and fuch thy manly grace,
When late I held thee in a laft embrace j
When in my breaft prefaging terrors grew,
And funk in grief, I figh'd a long adieu.
How foon to thee this plaintive note I owe,
My plaintive note to footh maternal woe !


[ » ]

" * Thefs fading orbs their darling view no mofe,
" And the laft charm of ebbing life is o'er.'*
Dark o'er my head the louring moments roll,
For ever fet the fun-beam of my foul.

Is this indeed the univerfal doom,
No ray of hope to cheer the lonely tomb !
Perhaps the foul, a pure aethereal flame,
May ftill furvive her frail and tranfient frame ;
And rapt in blifs the great Creator trace,
Celeftial power who lives thro' boundlefs fpace !
See his benevolence unclouded fhine.
Where wifdom, virtue dwell in joys divine ;
Search Truths fublime, with facred rapture fcan,
His gracious views conceal'd from erring man:
But reafon vainly would this depth explore,
And fabled fyftems make us doubt the more.

O Youth belov'd, now mouldering in the tomb,
Each foft progreffion even to manhood's bloom,
My fancy paints ; in infancy my pride,
With fparkling eyes ftill playful at my fide;
The lively boy then rofe with winning grace.
Till rip'ning ardour mark'd his glowing face.

* In the ElCjjy on Cnptain Coubtxhay,

C 3 ]

I faw him fhine in every liberal art,

Science and Fame the paflion of his heart.

Where Grant a's domes o'erhang the cloifter'd plain,

Studious he mix'd in learning's penfive train;

There, Meditation lent her facred aid,

To woo bright fcience in the peaceful (hade;

Why tempt that burning clime, that fatal fhore ?

* The glorious motive pains my bofom more.

When bards fublime attun'd the founding lyre,
His vivid breaft difplay'd congenial fire.
He bade Tyrtjeus' martial ardour fhine.
And breathes his fpirit in each glowing line.
With Henry's glory gilds his claffic lays,
And joins the Prince's in the hero's praife.
Indignant fcorn on freedom's foe he flings,
And fpurns ambition the mean vice of kings.
With Prior's graceful eafe he moves along.
And laughs at fi(5lion in his fportive fong.
With pregnant fancy, brilliant wit defines.
And blends examples in his playful lines.
In fprightly numbers chants f Maria's fway.
While Waller's J groves refound the amorous lay.

• Extraift of one of his let'ers from Portfmouth, April 20th, 1794.—
" For the idea of being a fcrvice to, and of again feeing thofe who are fo
" dear to me, is the moft lively and pleafing fenfation 1 can ever hare.'*

t Verfes adJrefled toMlfi M. L. J Written at HaU-Barn, Ceconsficld.

[ 4 ]

How pleas'd with mine to mix thy * tuneful ftrain.
When Freedom's banner wav'd on Gallia's plain j
There, f fervid courage won thee early praife,
And wing'd with pleafure flew our happy days; i

Never did Nature's bounteous hand impart,
A nobler fpirit, or a gentler heart.

How dear to all ! — -by fecial love refin'd,
No felfifh paiTxon warp'd his generous mind !
When from my breaft, a figh reluctant flole.
That fpoke the boding forrows of my foul j
He graip'd my hand, the parting moment nigh,
A filial tear yet ftarting from his eye;
And fwectly flrove the prefclent gloom to cheer,
Thefe words for ever vibrate on my ear.
" Ah why repine, the palm by honour won,
" Defcends a bright incentive to thy fon,
" To fpurn at wealth in India's tempting clime,
*' If flain'd by bribes, if fully'd by a crime.

• The RtPUBLicAN, and Nuns Song, publiflicd in the Poetical
Epiflles from France, &c.

f A very young fold er at the door of the National Convention menaced
him with his pointed bayonet, which be in.lantly fei/.ed, and wrefted the
piece out of his hands. — One of the members wis fortunately a witntfsof
thetranfaftion, and after reprimanding the centinel, introduced my fon into
the Convention, and told me the fi:\, wiih high eulo^lums on his fpiriu

C 5 ]

** O, let my voice each anxious care difpell,
" I'll foon return to thofe I love fo well."

That promis*d blifs, — that vital beam is paft i
Hope's genial fhoots, all withered by one blaft.
He'll ne'er return in (hining talents bleft,
With duteous zeal to glad a parent's breaft.
'Midft focialjoy, in feftive pleafure gay,
A fudden * corfe, the blooming victim lay.
While here forlorn, I yet exift to tell,
How in the glow of youth my darling fell.
Life's doling fcenes no confolation lend,
f I've loft my fvveet companion and my friend. —
That grief is vain, — but tempts me to repine,
Ev'n X Fox's generous tears have flovv'd with mine.

• Capt. Grit, to R. J. Efq. " In anfwer to your note of

*' yefterday, I am compelled to the painful tallc of communicating the

*• melancholly acconnt of Mr. C 's death- At a ball the 14th of

** December, being overheated with dancing, he Jm;;rudently drank a
*' glafs of lemonade, which proved almoft Inftantly fatal."

-f Extraft of a letter : Cambridge, February loth, 1792. — " I

" am more obliged to you, thin I can exprefs : grateful I am to my
" Father, and ever fliall remiin ; puflion^ may at times have led mc
" aftray, yet ftiU did I ever remember his kindnefi and affeftion, ad-
" mire his talents, refpect him as a parent, and love him as a proiedor,
*' a companion, and a friend "

X Mr. Fox, with geflerous and confol'mg attention, and with that
fympathizing friendihip which dliliaguiiL him, give me the fir.l
tion of this fatal eveac

C 6 ]

O (hade benign, ftlll at my couch arife.
Till low in earth, thy once iov'd Father lies.
Ne'er from my mind can thy memorial part,
Thy picture's grav'd for ever on my heart :
But India's mould contains thy hallow'd (hrine;
Vain my laft wifh to mix my duft with thine.
For thee, fweet Emma drops the tender tear,
Sighs o'er thy verfe, and thy untimely bier;
For thee, Sophia heaves her aching breaft.
While plaintively fhe lulls her babe to reft.
For thee, thy Mother's eyes inceflant flow;
Thy fate alone could touch my heart with woe.
With flowers I'll ftrew thy urn, and clafp thy buft;
With my laft numbers cdnfecrate thy duft ;
Dwell on thy praife, and feel while life remains,
The joy of grief from thy harmonious ftrains.
Still to thy (hade each facred honour pay.
And to thy grave devote the mournful lay.
'Tis Nature's charm to cafe the troubl'd breaft.
And footh the anguifli of the foul to reft ;
We fondly hope, by dear delufion led.
To wake our own fcnfations in the dead ;
By fympathy rcvcrfe the eternal doom.
Revive the clay, and animate the tomb.

I 7 ]



JtvEGIS Henrici, mihi da, benigna
Artibus belli variifq' pacis
Dulcis inftru6ti, refonare Mufa
Splendida fa6la,

Qui manu parva comitatus, agros
Galliae pingues populavit, atq*
Copias vicit numero cardites
Marte cruento.— — «

Ille per lurmas facie ferena
Ivit exhortans focios laborum
Fortiter pugnam pueris, inirc

[ 8 J

Quamvis in terram cecidit tremendis
I£libus mulcis fuperatus hoftis,
Vicit at CU116I0S tamen imperator
Enfe potenti.

Plurlmas gentes trepldas fubegit
Nefcius vinci Macedo fuperbus,
Gallicam gentem domuit ferocem.
Anglicus heros.

Sub duce hoc magno intrepidl Britanni
Ufq' pugnabant veluti leones,
Atq' fugerunt pavidi timore
Semper ab illis.

Galliae vaftae populi frequentes;
Sic lupum vitant pecudes rapacem
Quando noclurnam ftabulos laceffit
Quaerere praedam.

Dumq' regndflet generosus heros
ClafTe Gallorum Genua: q' vi£la,
Angliae nati domini fuere
^quoris omnis.

[ 9 ]

* In mcro gaudet dapibus, jocifq*
Filius regis foljo fcdentis,
Et fuas femper dominis venuftis
Praeterit horas.

Hoc modo Henricus levis atq' vixit i
Sed cito mores juvenis reliquit,
Regiam fedem decorabit atq'
Georgius almus.

* For him, the feftive board had charms,
Where wit and humour fhine :
And yielding beauty bleft his arms,
Amidft the joys of wine.

But fee the fcepter'd hero reign,

His youthful foibles flown ;
Thus, Fame's loud plaudits George fhall gain,

And ffjorious fill the throne.

[ 10 j



.NXIAS curas animis fugate,
Gaudeat quifque hac redeunte luce,
Qua dies noftri numerat fluentes

Sanguinis Au£fcor.

Hanc diem fauftam, properate cunili.
Cum bono vino celebrare, curas
Quod ftatim folvit ; facit atq' noftra
Pedlora Iseta.

Prandium jamjam famuli miniflrant
Alteram veftem induere et neceffe eft,
Non mihi, quamvis cupio, licet nunc
Scribere plura.

r " J


Exulting, tune the choral lay,

Bid anxious care retire ;
With pride I hail this happy day,

The birth-day of our Sire.

To me this genial morn is dear,

Propitious may it ftiine ;
And bring us each revolving year,

The joys of mirth of wine.

But fee, the feftive hour is nigh.
The fervants hafte along;

To drefs myfelf, I'm forc'd to fly,
And leave the unfinifh'u fons;.

f 12 ]


\JUUM Deus ex caelo Judaeis munera mifit,
Tunc jus pofcebant folio deponere Regem;
Audivit fan6lus mox vota ardentla vates,
Dejecit numen, saulum rcgemqu' creavitj
Congruit eleclu gentis fic rector Olympic ; —
Sed plus * Edmund us populi nunc jura recufat !



(SCULAPIUS of yore (as in ftory we 're told},
Was fo fond of his fees, that a handful of gold,
Induc'd him a carcafe to life to reftore,
Altho' fuch a cure was ne'er heard of before.
Whereupon thund'ring Jove threw a bolt at his head.
And on Pluto's remonftrancc, the Doctor lay dead.
From hence 'tis aver'd how phyficians of late,
That they may not fufFer a fimilar fate ;
Inftead of reftoring to life the deceas'd.
Are content if by them, men from life are releas'd,

• Burke's "cfleftions.

r '3 ]




— — — Infignis Homerus,
TyrtjEufq' mares auimos lii martia bella,
Verfibus exacuit.


A SCORN to fing the a6tive racer's praife,
Nor deem him worthy of a poet's lays ;
Not tho' in fwiftnefs he outftript the fteed.
Or e'en furpafs'd the Thracian wind in fpced.
Nor would I honour, or tranfmit to fame,
The brawny wreftler's undeferving name ;
Not tho' in bullc he match'd the Cyclops race,
Boafted the beauties of Tithonus face:
No,— not if fortune with benignant hand,
Had given him Pclop's empire to command,
Pour'd down the wealth of Midas on his head,
The {lores of Cinyras before him fprcad.

f 14 3

Nor if kind Heaven had on his tongue beftow'd,
Thofe charms of fpeech that from Adraftus flow'd.
Not, tho' he Fortune's richeft gifts polTefs'd,
Unlefs true courage fir'd his manly breaft.
Say, — is he worthy to enjoy the light
Whofe fpirit fails him in the arduous fight ?
Who dares not boldly at his poft to ftand,
And wield his falchion 'mid the hoftile band.

Honour's the noblefl prize a man can gain,
The brighteft' laurel he can e'er obtain ;
Then let each warrior emulate his fire,
Let Sparta's glory every foul infpire.
See the youth fpring impetuous on the {oe.
And deal deftruction in each fatal blow:
He fcorns to yield, to tremble, or to fly,
But thinks it glorious in the field to die.
Now fires his counLrymcn to manly deeds.
And the firm hoft to fame and conqueft leads.
For lo ! where fcatter'd, flruck with v/ild affright,
The routed phalanx turn their ftcps to flight.
'Twas He, that drove them from the dufty plain.
He pierc'd their ranks, and .broke their marflial'd train.
At length he falls, — falls and refigns his breath.
And in his country's caufe, exults in death.

[ 15 ]

The well form'd breaft plate, and the fhield are found.

Streaming with blood, and hack'd with many a wound.

The young, the old attend his funeral bier,

Shed o'er his mangled corfe a generous tear ;

His infant children fhare their father's fame.

While, all refpeft, and venerate his name.

And the' in earth his mould'ring bones are laidj

Yet ftill with glory are his deeds repay'd ;

Recording ages ihall with pleafure tell,

" He bravely for his country fought and fell."

— But if he meet not this heroic fate.

He ftands the glorious pillar of the ftate,

The young, the old, the warlike chief admire.

Applaud his valour, and his patriot fire.

Then ye who wifh the vicSlor's palm to gain.

Who thirft the wreath of merit to obtain j

Rufh — rufh to war, gird on the fliining fteel.

And fight like heroes for the common weaL

[ i6 ]

HOW long ye cowards will ye fenfelefs ftand.
While war and famine vex your native land !
Still — ftill inactive, hide your heads for fhame.
Blind to your anceftors illuftrious fame !
And can ye tremble, to refign this life,
The infant fhielding and the tender wife.
For know — we all muft die, or foon or late,
So Fate commands, and all mufl: yield to fate.

Then draw your fwords, uprear your blazing crefls.
And bear your glitt'ring fhields before your breafts.
Oft from the battle's rage, the coward flies.
But Fate arrefts him, and at home he dies. —
But mark the intrepid hero's glorious end.
The people's champion, and the people's friend.
When dead, by all lamented and deplor'd,
By all when living, reverenc'd and ador'd.
As yon proud trophy wins admiring eyes.
So with bright laurels crown 'd behold him rife ;
His grateful country's bulwark, pride and boaft,
In him tho' fingle, they pofTefs a hoft. —

t X7 ]


SPARTANS— ye chofen fav'rites of the fky.
See Jove propitious thunder from on high.
Then let each warrior grafp his ample fhield.
Nor fhun the hoftile throng that crouds the field,
Who dreads for freedom to refign his breath ?
Who in his country's caufe will flirink from death ?
How oft the battle's rage have ye endur'd,
To all the horrors of grim war inur'd 1
Oft on your foes the furious onfet made,
And hurl'd their fquadrons to the Stygian (hade ?
— But now the buckler's drop'd, your fpirit's fled,
Your army routed, and your heroes dead. —
Hafte — form the phalanx, all your powers combine.
And in the van, like Spartan foldiers fhine ;
When thus united, none can ftand your force,
Flight is the coward's hope, his fole refource. —
Your's be the glory of the bloody day.
While trembling wretches fkulk with fhame away,
Bafe is the man who wounds a flying foe,
Bafe is the man who aims a treacherous blow.


C i8 ]

Bold be your fight, difpel each childifli fear,
And in the combat, fierce as Wolves appear.
Braiidifh your fwords, and couch the quiv'ring lance.
Now ftretch your Ipears, and to the charge advance.
Then hand to hand, let each a foe engage.
Strain every nerve, and fummon all your rage :
Let fword meet fword, and breaft oppofe to bread.
Shield clalh with fhield, and creft contend with creft.

Ye light arm'd foldiers whirl the leathern fling.
Speed the quick dart, the rocky fragment fling ;
So fli-ill your toils with victory be crown'd.
And Sparta's fons for ever be renown'd. —


THE man who falls, when fighting to defend,
His country's freedom, meets a glorious end.

But if by poverty deprefs'd he roam,
Far from his native city, and his home j

r 19 ]

He meanly fues a pittance to obtain.
To feed his tender wife, and infant train;
A mother and a fire his cares enfrao-c.
Worn down by grief, and funk in helplefs age.
Thus doom'd to fuffer indigence, difgrace.
His name diflionour'd, and defpifed his race;
To want's fliarp pangs and mifcry a prey,
*TilI death in pity fnatch the wretch away.

Then be it ours, my friends, the foe to wait,
Of life regardlefs, and the ftorms of fate ;
Here, with your fhiclds an iron rampart raife,
And fire your fouls by glorious thirft of praifc.
The coward trembles, and the coward flies,
The hero conquers, or he bravely dies.

Guard the old warrior ev'n in weaknefs brave,
Snatch him from danger, from deftru6lion fave;
Oh piteous fight, to view the pointed dart.
Transfix his breaft, and pierce his dauntlefs heart.
While vigorous youths to flight for fafety truft.
And fee the veteran hero fink in dud. —

r 20 3





Je fuis enchante,

Par rhereufe variete
La rachercbe, la nouveaute
£t la noblefTe de fes rimet.

Que j'aime auffi la nettete

Le ton precis dent il s'exprimef
Quelle rare fecondite

D'images riantes fublimes.

Jj LE S T with a true Horatian fire,
The Poet ftrikes the founding lyre,
The blue ey'd maid he fings;
Paternal love infpires his lays,
He fondly chaunts his Emma's pralfe.
And fweeps the yielding ftrings.

Now with fuperior art pourtrav'd.
The various beauties are difplay'd.

[ 21 ]

That grace the Hefperian land j
Borne on triumphant fancy's wings.
The Bard in tuneful numbers fings,

And (hews a mafter's hand.

O'er all his fmooth melodious lines,
A warm imagination fhines,

And beams of fancy play ;
Tho' * Addison from Tiber wrote.
Yet not fo rapturous his note.

So claflical his lay.

As Vulcan o'er ^Eneas' fhield,
Rome's future eminence reveal'd,

(Vers'd in the rolls of fate)
And wrought in gold with art divine.
The heroes of illuftrious line,

That prop'd the Roman ftate.

So in the Poet's pleafmg flrains.
The Emprefs of the world remains,

• The cindld reader (efpccially if he be a father) will excufe the
juvenile criticilm of a fon, prejudiced by partiality and affeftion.

r 22 J

Refplendent to our view ;
By the infpiring mufe impel'd,
He paints what ne'er his eyes beheld,

Yet ftill the pidure's true.

But now to Belgia's fhore I fly,
And fee joy fparkle in your eye.

While ardent wifhes rife ;
When quick you fly Batavia's plain,
And launch into the Eaftern main.

To feek your native Ikies.

O may the broad, the flowing fails,
Expanded by aufpicious gales,
Catch every gentle breeze ;

Ye waves propitious lend your aid.
Safe to convey the blue ey'd maid.
And waft her o'er the feas.

Behold fhe comes (her Father's pride)
Sophia blooming by her fide.

With mild expreffive face ;
See the fond lifters arm in arm.
By fweet affediort blend each charm.

And fhine with mutual grace.

C 23 j

Each foft enchanting fmile combin'd,
With eafy manners, tafte refin'd,

Sophia's charms difclofe;
In love's chafte tye, long may flie {hare,
The fond delight, the pleafing care,

That nuptial blifs beflows.

From Emma, Humour's native ftrain,
And Wit's enllv'ning happy vein.

In brilliant fallies fhoot ;
As thro' the verdant foliage glow,
And on one ftem, engrafted grow,

Two different forts of fruit.

r 24 J

OCTOBER 20, I792.

TO MISS M*** L****.


Ne vous offenfez pas,

Si je vous pretends vous plaire }

Je nc peux me taire.

X F blefs'd with Fox's tuneful vein,
Maria's charms I'd fing ;

To her addrefs my ardent ftrain,

And wake the trembling firing.^

Her checks difclofe the crimfon bloom,
That paints the fcented rofe;

Her breath exhales the mild perfume,
The air in which it grows.

r 25 ]

How can I chant the graceful fair.

In beauty's luftre bright !
To what fhall I her eyes compare.

That beam celeftial light !—

As wildly mutable they roll,

We feel their boundlefs fway;

We bow beneath their fweet controul.
And love, admire, obey.

Thofe brilliant orbs inflame mankind,
Thence, Cupid fires our hearts;

And as the unerring boy is blind.
By THEM direeSts his darts.

What Bard fuch dazzling charms can fing.
In youth's refplendent glow ;

Could ev'n Titian radiance fling,
O'er yon Cserulean bow?

C ^6 ]



X ELL me, tell me what is Wit,
Ye who dealers are in it ?
Variety it ftill affumes,
As different fweets are yet perfumes.
Like Proteus, various ftiapes it bearSj
Graceful in various robes appears ;
One while in fimple garb its Ceenj
Another, — tricked out like a queen.
In London much falfe Wit is fold.
As Sheffield coin is pafs'd for gold !
And oft in Wit you're cheated there.
As you're deceiv'd in Wedgewood ware.
Thus priefts preach up their creeds for reafon,
And Liberty denounce as treafon.
So fpurious Wits for true ones fhine,
As Tories think a King divine.

• Received from Portfmouth, May i, 1794.

I V 1

*Tis not a tale which coxcombs tell,
Scarce underftood beyond Pall-mall ;
Nor is it modilh converfation,
Which deferves that appellation j
St. George's ftar may deck the knight,
But ne'er can make a R*ch**nd fight.
—Wit lies not in a Frenchman's vapour.
Who helps his nonfenfe by a caper j
In life by fecial evils curfl:,
A lively fool is fure the worft,
Vivacity lends dullnefs aid,
As lead by quickfilver's outweigh'd.—

Much lefs has that to Wit a claim,
Which makes a Virgin blulh thro' (hame ;
A blufli fweet apprehenfion lliews.
The cheek then emulaies the rofe.
If frigid Sv/ift had lov'd the fair.
Their nice fenfations he would fpare.
The modeft glow can they command ?
" They blufh, becaufe they underftand."
True; — fentiment their blood will rule,
The maid mufl blufh, who's not a fou»l.—

C 28 ]

Still may the dear fufFufion fhoot,
To tell the coxcomb, he's a brute.—

No Wit is he, who oft rehearfes,
A few poor flimfy limping verfes ;
Your ftanzas muft not only chime.
But fenfe refin'd keep pace with rhime.
As with their pafte. Cooks raifins mingle,
Rich thoughts muft knead with fterile jingle.
The proofs of Wit long while remain,
As ink will leave a lafting ftain.

With Wit, your fpeech you fliould not load,
The Britons who made ufe of Woad,
Painted their bodies here and there.
But did not daub them every where. —
Wit on all points is out of feafon,
It's ufe is to embroider reafon. —
Good fenfe like cloth, the ground-work place>
And then fow on your Wit and lace.
The dome let Doric pillars prop,
Corinthian wreaths may grace the top.
The fabre's hilt with gems inlaid.
Give's luftre to the ufcfui blade.

[ 29 3

To guard the head the helmet wear.
The plume but adds a grace and air;
Kian, and Soy are good ingredients,
But for the turbot, poor expedients.
—Some hurt themfelves by flippant Wit,
As too much gas, balloons will fplit; —
With buoyant fplendour, up they rife.
The fpirit burfts, the bubble dies.— —

Wit lies not in Charards or pun,
Or what the grinning wag calls fun ;
Nor can we find it on the ftage,
In C**ber**nd's, or C*wl*y's page.
If Sheridan but fpeak or write.
Wit always beams a genuine light.—

By Locke, true Wit is beft defin'd.
Her pleafant pictures lure the mind;
Aflbciations fudden rife.
And feize the fancy by furprife;
The efFe6t is ftrong, — becaufe it's odd.
Like fire eledhic from a clod j
Or Vilicnjix'd air puts out a light,
Tho' vital makes it blaze more bright.

C 30 3

Thus novelty a zefl Supplies,

And Wit ftill pleafes by furprife;

The brilliant thought that charm'd to day,

By repetition fades away ;

A maid thus fhines the joy of life ; — .

But what a different thing's a wife ?

Wit fuits not the heroic line,

Her fimiles are not divine ;

The ludicrous they blithly feafon.

And make us laugh in fpite of reafon : —

Difcordant tho' the ideas be,

In Fancy's logic they agree ;

As in the Ark by fpecial grace.


Online LibraryJohn Lees CourtenayJuvenile poems → online text (page 1 of 2)