ve the treason we abhor the traitor.

What transport in life can equal that which a man feels on
the restoration of his liberty?

"The church, the court, or the sea;" as if it more fully
expressed the following advice,--He that would make his
fortune, ought either to dedicate his time to the church, go
to sea as a merchant, or attach himself to the court: for it
is commonly observed, that "the king's crumb is worth the
baron's batch."[5]

SONNET UPON THE GOLETA.

O happy souls, by death at length set free
From the dark prison of mortality,
By glorious deeds, whose memory never dies--
From earth's dim spot exalted to the skies!
What fury stood in every eye confessed!
What generous ardor fired each manly breast,
While slaughtered heaps distained the sandy shore,
And the tinged ocean blushed with hostile gore!
O'erpowered by numbers, gloriously ye fell:
Death only could such matchless courage quell;
Whilst dying thus ye triumphed o'er your foes--
Its fame the world, its glory heaven, bestows!

SONNET ON THE FORT.

From 'midst these walls, whose ruins spread around,
And scattered clods that heap the ensanguined ground,
Three thousand souls of warriors, dead in fight,
To better regions took their happy flight.
Long with unconquered souls they bravely stood,
And fearless shed their unavailing blood:
Till, to superior force compelled to yield,
Their lives they quitted in the well-fought field.
This fatal soil has ever been the tomb
Of slaughtered heroes, buried in its womb:
Yet braver bodies did it ne'er sustain,
Nor send more glorious soul the skies to gain.

I.

Tossed in a sea of doubts and fears,
Love's hapless mariner, I sail,
Where no inviting port appears,
To screen me from the stormy gale.

II.

At distance viewed, a cheering star
Conducts me through the swelling tide;
A brighter luminary, far,
Than Palinurus o'er descried.

III.

My soul, attracted by its blaze,
Still follows where it points the way,
And while attentively I gaze,
Considers not how far I stray.

IV.

But female pride, reserved and shy,
Like clouds that deepen on the day,
Oft shroud it from my longing eye,
When most I need the genial ray.

V.

O lovely star, so pure and bright!
Whose splendor feeds my vital fire,
The moment thou deny'st thy light,
Thy lost adorer will expire