THE DEATH OF JAMES III. OF SCOTLANDA POEM, 138 188 NIGHT, : : : HORACE, ODE XXXV—TO FORTUNE, 190 206 209 THE LAST WORDS OF SAPPHO, SONNET ΤΟ H ER MAJESTY. The magic beams that mantled in the eyes Their tender bosoms thrilled with new delight, Adorning peace with virtue's wreath divine, Enchaining all with charms alike benign. The Warrior finds his laurel in thy smile ; The Poet hails thee-Queen of Freedom's isle ! The world beholds in thee as pure a gem, J. M. H. |