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Article ELEGY, ON MR. MATTHEW WINTERBOTHAM, Page 1 of 2 →
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Elegy, On Mr. Matthew Winterbotham,
ELEGY , ON MR . MATTHEW WINTERBOTHAM ,
* APTAIN OF A VESSEL IN THE SIERRA LEONE COMPANY ' S SERVICE , WHO WAS DROWNED GOING ASHORE AT DIX-COVE , ON THE GOLD COAST , ARFICA .
HEARD you that dismal scream , that echoes o ' er The burning surface of the breaking wave ?—'Twas the vindictive Spirit of the shore , -As clos'd the billows o ' er yori fluid grave . For in misguided rage his dart he threw—Meant for the spoilers of his wasted land—< The deadly shaft wide of its purpose flew ,
And Virtue sunk beneath his erring hand . Yes—WINTERBOTHAM—virtuous was thy course ; And pure the treasures that thy vessel bore : Unstain'd by blood , drawn from no tainted source , Commerce , and Peace , and Freedom , mark'd thy store Ahweeping AFEIC !—well may sorrows flow
, , When the fierce Genius of thy injur'd coast , With indiscriminate rage , blasts friend and foe , And thy best guardians in the stof-ms are lost . To bring thee freedom , in his manly prime See him launch forth upon thy boiling wave —• Encounter all the fervours of thy clime ,
And every danger in th y service brave . Where European footsteps never trod , * Behold him rushing o ' er your burning plains—To scatter blessings—break oppression ' s rod—And from your free-born sons take slav ' ry ' s chains . But that high Fate , that rules our fleeting time , With early hand snatch'd him from fame ' s career ; And bade his virtues take their post sublime , 'Midst kindred worth , in yon immortal sphere .
Nor deem his pure example has been vain—His labours yet their destin'd purpose fill 5 His virtuous energies do yet remain , And sacred Freedom feels his efforts still .
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Elegy, On Mr. Matthew Winterbotham,
ELEGY , ON MR . MATTHEW WINTERBOTHAM ,
* APTAIN OF A VESSEL IN THE SIERRA LEONE COMPANY ' S SERVICE , WHO WAS DROWNED GOING ASHORE AT DIX-COVE , ON THE GOLD COAST , ARFICA .
HEARD you that dismal scream , that echoes o ' er The burning surface of the breaking wave ?—'Twas the vindictive Spirit of the shore , -As clos'd the billows o ' er yori fluid grave . For in misguided rage his dart he threw—Meant for the spoilers of his wasted land—< The deadly shaft wide of its purpose flew ,
And Virtue sunk beneath his erring hand . Yes—WINTERBOTHAM—virtuous was thy course ; And pure the treasures that thy vessel bore : Unstain'd by blood , drawn from no tainted source , Commerce , and Peace , and Freedom , mark'd thy store Ahweeping AFEIC !—well may sorrows flow
, , When the fierce Genius of thy injur'd coast , With indiscriminate rage , blasts friend and foe , And thy best guardians in the stof-ms are lost . To bring thee freedom , in his manly prime See him launch forth upon thy boiling wave —• Encounter all the fervours of thy clime ,
And every danger in th y service brave . Where European footsteps never trod , * Behold him rushing o ' er your burning plains—To scatter blessings—break oppression ' s rod—And from your free-born sons take slav ' ry ' s chains . But that high Fate , that rules our fleeting time , With early hand snatch'd him from fame ' s career ; And bade his virtues take their post sublime , 'Midst kindred worth , in yon immortal sphere .
Nor deem his pure example has been vain—His labours yet their destin'd purpose fill 5 His virtuous energies do yet remain , And sacred Freedom feels his efforts still .