Yes, loved Harmodius, thou'rt undying;
Still midst the brave and free,
In isles, o'er ocean lying,
Thy home shall ever be.
In myrtle leaves my sword shall hide its lightning,
Like his, the youth, whose ever-glorious blade
Leapt forth like flame, the midnight banquet brightening;'
And in the dust a despot victim laid.
Blest youths; how bright in Freedom's story
Your wedded names shall be;
A tyrant's death your glory,
Your meed, a nation free!
JUVENILE POEMS.
1801.
TO JOSEPH ATKINSON, ESQ.
MY DEAR SIR,
I feel a very sincere pleasure in dedicating to you the Second Edition of
our friend LITTLE'S Poems. I am not unconscious that there are many in the
collection which perhaps it would be prudent to have altered or omitted;
and, to say the truth, I more than once revised them for that purpose;
but, I know not why, I distrusted either my heart or my judgment; and the
consequence is you have them in their original form:
_non possunt nostros multae, Faustine, liturae
emendare jocos; una litura potest_.
I am convinced, however, that, though not quite a _casuiste relache_, you
have charity enough to forgive such inoffensive follies: you know that the
pious Beza was not the less revered for those sportive Juvenilia which he
published under a fictitious name; nor did the levity of Bembo's poems
prevent him from making a very good cardinal.
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