Sonnet. to General Elliott, on His Arrival from Gibraltar

Though Gratitude no arch triumphal rears To grace the laurel'd HERO's late return; And tho' no blazing trophies vainly burn, Or mob tumultuous at thy car appears, Yet shall thy name, and martial deeds be read, While CALPE's rock defies the sea and wind! THY NAME!—the admiration of mankind, The Briton's pride, and swarthy Spaniards dread! Trust to the heav'nly Muse thy well earn'd fame: Hark!—lovely SEWARD strikes th' Horatian lyre. On Trenta's bank with more than Roman fire, And gives to endless Time thy GLORIOUS NAME!

ELLIOTT! accept this verse—and it will be Immortal too, because address'd to THEE.