Melpomene, now strike a mournful string,
Montgomery's fate assisting me to sing!
Thou saw him fall upon the hostile plain
Yet ting'd with blood that gush'd from Moncalm's veins,
Where gallant Wolfe for conquest gave his breath,
Where num'rous heroes met the angel Death.
Ah! while the loud...
UPON this Primrose hill,
Where, if heaven would distil
A shower of rain, each several drop might go
To his own primrose, and grow manna so;
And where their form, and their infinity
...