A letter to that truly patriot-candidate for the city of Dublin, doctor Charles Lucas

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Page 18 - The tree grew, and was strong, and the height thereof reached unto heaven, and the sight thereof to the end of all the earth: the leaves thereof were fair, and the fruit thereof much, and in it was meat for all : the beasts of the field had shadow under it, and the fowls of the heaven dwelt in the boughs thereof, and all flesh was fed of it.
Page 7 - Not the red arm of angry Jove, That flings the thunder from the sky, And gives it rage to roar, and strength to fly. Should the whole frame of nature round him break In ruin and confusion hurl'd, He, unconcern'd, would hear the mighty crack, And stand secure amidst a falling world.
Page 14 - The reddening orange and the swelling grain : Joyless he sees the growing oils and wines, And in the myrtle's fragrant shade repines ; Starves, in the midst of Nature's bounty curst, And in the loaden vineyard dies for thirst.
Page 14 - With all the gifts that heav'n and earth impart, The smiles of nature, and the charms of art, While proud oppression in her valleys reigns, And tyranny usurps her happy plains...
Page 17 - As, when the winds their airy quarrel try, Justling from ev'ry quarter of the sky, This way and that the mountain oak they bend, His boughs they shatter, and his branches rend; With leaves and falling mast they spread the ground; The hollow valleys echo to the sound...
Page 7 - HE man refolv'd and fteady to his truft, Inflexible to ill, and obftinately juft, May the rude rabble's infolence defpife, Their fenfelefs clamours and tumultuous cries ; The tyrant's fiercenefs he beguiles, And the ftern brow, and the harfh voice defies, And with fuperior greatnefs fmiles. "Not the rough whirlwind, that deforms Adria's black gulf, and vexes it with ftofhis, The ftubborn virtue of his foul can move ; Nor the red arm...
Page 9 - At the humble petition of the lord mayor, sheriffs, commons, and citizens of the city of Dublin, be it enacted,
Page 15 - Eas'd of her load fubjeftion grows more light, ' And poverty looks chearful in thy fight ; Thou mak'ft the gloomy face of nature gay> Giv'ft beauty to the fun, and pleafure to the day. Thee, goddefs, thee...
Page 14 - Oh, Liberty ! thou goddefs heav'nly bright, Profufe of blifs, and pregnant with delight ! Eternal pleafures in thy prefence reign, And fmiling Plenty leads thy wanton train ; Eas'd of her load Subjection grows more light.
Page 3 - Yoke . . . while even in Britain the terms Liberty and Patriotism are secretly ridiculed as chimerical- it is to Ireland alone, as to the Heart, where the Animal Spirits, the Vital Heat of Political Nature appear to make their Retreat; from hence I trust to re-expand, to...

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