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January 25, 1770. No.
265. |
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To my Pen
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Thou dear
companion of each idle hour,
With joy I view thee, and confess thy power;
Not showers to larks, nor sunshine to the bee,
Are half so charming as thy touch to me.
The Miser, brooding o’er his much lov’d
gain, 5
Feels not the pleasure which thou dost contain;
The beau, O pen, so proud of outward show,
Tastes not the raptures that thou dost bestow;
The lover, folded in his mistress’s arms,
Finds not felicity beyond thy
charms; 10
The vain coquette, adorn’d in pride of dress,
Does for her ornaments less love express
Than I, when from the busy world set free,
Am in my closet left alone with thee.
From foolish subjects, O my pen, keep
free, 15
With ill tim’d satire ne’er conversant be;
Immodest words admit of no defence,
And want of decency is want of sense;
Religion’s tenets be thy constant care,
But in disputes be candid and
sincere; 20
True love to mankind in your writings show,
Nor vent thy spite and malice ’gainst thy foe;
Defend your cause with all the skill you can,
And though you hate his errours, love the man;
Let every injur’d fair in thee still
find 25
A wise protector, and a stedfast friend;
That young and old may in thy praise combine,
The virtues of humanity be thine.
O friendly pen! how much by me admir’d!
I’m of thy lov’d assistance never tir’d; 30
By thee to distant friends I tell my mind,
And in thy friendship we true friendship find;
In foreign climes where I some friends have found,
By thee I make the circling laugh go round;
By thee, without a blush, I can
unfold 35
Things which with equal ease could not be told.
Farewell my pen, and still assured be
My chiefest joy will center’d be in thee.
CALEDONIENSIS.
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January 25, 1770. No.
265. |
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The Times
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O! Rouse, ye
Britons, good and brave,
Your injur’d, drooping country save!
Shall Britons slight their country’s call?
Indignant spurn the servile chain,
Free as your guardian waves
remain, 5
Or crush’d, with Freedom, greatly fall.
’Tis not the shadow of an hour,
The buz of fools, defying pow’r,
The idol of a bawling crew;
’Tis not the jargon of a wight, 10
Promiscuous blending wrong with right,
That bids you rouze, be firm, and true—
’Tis Liberty! to Britons giv’n:
The best the noblest boon of Heav’n!
The glorious birth-right of the
brave! 15
Alarm’d, attentive, listen round,
Catch inspiration from the sound,
And wake, your rights, yourselves, to save.
For this your great fore-fathers rose,
For this, defi’d a host of
foes, 20
And pluck’d th’ unfading wreath of Fame;
From them, worn out with toils and age,
Their children caught the generous rage,
And, limping, curst a tyrant’s name.
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January 25, 1770. No.
265. |
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ODE, chanté au Chateau St. Louis, par
les Etudiants du petit Séminaire de Québec, a l’honnorable
GUY CARLETON, Gouverneur-Général de Canada, a
la Feste que son Excellence a donné le 18 de ce Mois,
à l’Occasion de la Naissance de la Reine.
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La Discorde
éteint son Flambeau:
Pallas au Jour de sa Naissance
Nous offer à tous sa Bienveillance,
Et son pacifique Rameau.
Que chacun assis a son Ombre, 5
Goûtant les Douceurs de la Paix,
Chasse de son Cœur a jamais
Regrets, et chagrins aux Airs sombres.
Affreux Compagnons de Vulcain,
Cessez Cyclopes detestables, 10
Par vos Foudres trop redoutables
De consterner le Genre humain.
Ce Roi favori de Neptune,
Qui regne et sur Terre, et sur Mer
D’un Pais dompté par le fer, 15
Désire assurer la Fortune.
C’est ce qu’annoncent ces Eclairs,
Ces Feux, ces Eclats de Tonnerre,
Ces Astres parties de la Terre,
Qui vont se perdre dans les
Airs. 20
Apprends donc en ce Jour de Fête
A ne plus déplorer ton sort,
Peuple, aux justes Loix du plus fort,
Soumis par le Droit de Conquete.
Deja les Arts en Liberté 25
Paroissants avec Allégresse
Dans le Palais de la Sagesse,
Y sont reçus avec Bonté.
A ces Traits réconnois l’Ouvrage
De ce Gouverneur généreux 30
Qui consacre a te rendre heureux
Ses Soins, ses Biens, ses Avantages.
Son Nom, ainsi que ses biensfaits,
Seront a jamais pour sa Gloire
Dédiés au Temples de Mémoire. 35
Ciel! comble pour lui nos Souhaits.
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