your letters, but do not let them take Honora's corner of the sheet.

Adieu! May you all possess that cheerfulness denied to your Cher Jean. I fear it hurts my mother to see my musing moods-but I can neither help nor overcome them. The near hopes of another excursion to Lichfield, could alone disperse every gloomy vapour of my imagination.

Again, and yet again adieu !

JOHN ANDRÉ.

ELEGY

ON

CAPTAIN COOK.

TO WHICH IS ADDED

An Ode to the Sun.

BY

MISS SEWARD.

THE THIRD EDITION.

AN

ELEGY

ON

CAPTAIN COOK.

SORROWING, the Nine beneath yon blasted Shed the bright drops of Pity's holy dew; [yew Mute are their tuneful tongues, extinct their

fires;

Yet not in silence sleep their silver lyres;

To the bleak gale they vibrate sad and slow,
In deep accordance to a nation's woe.

Ye, who ere while for Cook's illustrious brow Pluck'd the green laurel, and the oaken bough,

Hung the gay garlands on the trophied oars,
And pour'd his fame along a thousand shores,
Strike the slow death-bell!-weave the sacred
verse,

And strew the cypress o'er his honor'd hearse;
In sad procession wander round the shrine,
And weep him mortal, whom ye sung divine!

Say first, what Pow'r inspir'd his dauntless
breast

With scorn of danger, and inglorious rest,
To quit imperial London's

gorgeous plains, Where, rob'd in thousand tints, bright Pleasure

reigns;

In cups of summer-ice her nectar pours, [bow'rs? And twines, 'mid wint'ry snows, her roseate Where beauty moves with undulating grace, Calls the sweet blush to wanton o'er her face, On each fond youth her soft artillery tries, Aims her light smile, and rolls her frolic eyes?