To The Honourable Mr. Erskine

When British Freedom for an happier land Spread her broad wings, that flutter'd with affright, ERSKINE! thy voice she heard, and paus'd her flight Sublime of hope, for dreadless thou didst stand (Thy censer glowing with the hallow'd flame) A hireless Priest before the insulted shrine, And at her altar pour the stream divine Of unmatch'd eloquence. Therefore thy name

Her sons shall venerate, and cheer thy breast With blessings heaven-ward breath'd. And when the doom Of Nature bids thee die, beyond the tomb Thy light shall shine: as sunk beneath the West

Though the great Summer Sun eludes our gaze, Still burns wide Heaven with his distended blaze.[80:A]

December 1, 1794.