Classic Poem

Thou pole-star, D EVON , whose attractive ray
Bids varied plumes in mimic homage play;
Thou form of Beauty, thou fair soul of Truth,
Whose paths are honour's, modes are flights of youth';
And beauteous G RANBY , that recorded name,
Which grateful vet'rans shall transmit to fame;
Say will not you, ye nobly born and taught,
With ev'ry charm, with ev'ry virtue fraught,
True to the glories of each honour'd line,
In public as in private virtues shine?
Shall not your country's wrongs your bosoms swell?
Shall not her foes your gen'rous rage impel?
Yes! — Mighty shades from realms of peace shall view
Their kindred honours brightly beam from you!

The genuine lustre real Greatness sheds,
Still like the sun its chearing influence spreads,
Darts 'midst the desart's gloom its genial ray,
And calls secluded Worth to open day;
Seeks the lone spot where brooding Sorrow dwells,
And traces Merit to his humblest cells;
Soothes the desponding mourner's throbbing breast,
And lulls, with gen'rous care, each grief to rest;
Props the poor flow'r whose parent root is dead,
And feeds th' industrious hand with lib'ral bread:
Spencer can witness how such deeds refine,
And give the human mind a ray divine.