Poetical sketches of a tour in the west of England . pleads in there no human laws to curb this raceOf fiend-like plunderers, Albions disgrace ?If not, by them let safety now be givenGainst those who thus despise the laws of Heaven;But if there are, say why this dire alarm,—Why slumbers justice with a nerveless arm ? Eight weeks have passd, since the dear scenes I knew,To which reluctantly I bid adieu;But times swift flight, which never brooks delay,Tells me from hence to hasten far away,And, sad the thought, perhaps for ever partFrom friends whose kindness oft has cheerd my
Poetical sketches of a tour in the west of England . pleads in there no human laws to curb this raceOf fiend-like plunderers, Albions disgrace ?If not, by them let safety now be givenGainst those who thus despise the laws of Heaven;But if there are, say why this dire alarm,—Why slumbers justice with a nerveless arm ? Eight weeks have passd, since the dear scenes I knew,To which reluctantly I bid adieu;But times swift flight, which never brooks delay,Tells me from hence to hasten far away,And, sad the thought, perhaps for ever partFrom friends whose kindness oft has cheerd my , farewell! I quit thy lovely bay,The numerous beauties which its shores display, 44 Thy verdant meadows and salubrious air,Thy sons of science and thy daughters fair,—Destined once more through various scenes to roam,Ere I shall reach my distant, joyless home,From whence its brightest, dearest gem is torn,And now to me tis wretched and forlorn:But on the mournful theme I will not dwell,Kind friends, adieu,—Penzance, once more farewell!.
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