The Guardian Spirit’s Address

Miss Porden

Address for the Opening of the Attic Chest

Dec. 1812

Hark I hear the tempest roar,
 Hark the rain and driving hail
Summer’s cheerless reign is o’er
 Gloomy King December, hail!
Oh how many view with gladness
 Summer’s vaunted roses blooming
Oh how many view with sadness
 Wintry clouds the welkin glooming
Oh how few like me, so gaily
Dark December, thus will hail ye.

Now the rose and jasmine turning
 Now the lily’s bloom is fled
But the laurel brightly shining
 Lifts thro’ storms and snow its head
Brighter green its boughs adorning
 See the favourite of Apollo
Bids from lighter themes returning
 You the bright example follow
Waking from inglorious slumbers
Pour again your magic numbers.

Hark obedient to the call
 Friends again around me prest,
And with looks of transport all,
 Hail the opening of the Chest.
Joy illumes the well known faces
 Every eye more brightly glances
While amid her sister Graces
 Now the Editress advances
Stored with many a votive offer
Opes the consecrated Coffer.

As the last in sense and spirit,
 Every former year surpassed
So may this in sterling merit
 Brighter still, excel the last.
Future years to this succeeding
 Still with added lustre shining
Every year the past exceeding
 For your brows fresh laurels twining
Till the Attic Chest in story
Swells the note of Albion’s Glory.

Oh my friends ’tis yours to say
 Must these hopes I fondly nourish
Now forgotten pass away,
 And your Chest no longer flourish.
No! that burst of indignation
 From so hard a fate secures me
And that smile of approbation
 Of your firm support assures me,
Place on us you say reliance
We to time will bid defiance.