Sonnet to Mrs. Hayley

THOU vext Atlantic, who hast lately seen
Britain's vain thunder on her offspring hurl'd,
And the blind parent, in her frantic spleen,
Pouring weak vengeance on a filial world!
Thou, whose rough billows in loud fury curl'd,
Have roar'd indignant under many a keel;
And while Contention all her sails unfurl'd,
Have groan'd the weight of ill-starr'd war to feel;
Now let thy placid waters gaily bear
A freight far differing from blood-thirsty steel;
See HAYLEY now to cross thy flood prepare,
A female merchant, fraught with friendly zeal!
Give her kind gales, ye spirits of the air,
Kind as her heart, and as her purpose fair!