Page:Poems on several occasions (IA poemsonseveraloc00boyc).pdf/45

 The british squadrons dare rebellion's pow'r, Hopeful to meet thee on th' important day; But, ah, our genius govern'd not the hour! Oh, mem'ry snatch thy images away! The Valiant wing'd th' imputed flight of fear; Thou,, wert eclips'd; no was near.

The clouds of dread the wond'ring isle o'ercaft, On base subversion, rises pale dismay; Near, and more near, the mad banditti haste, And terror and destruction mark their way; Now, with parental care our Monarch grieves, And to his warlike son his royal mandate gives. X,