Here you will find the Poem An Apology To The Earl Of Orrery of poet Mary Barber
Not Persia's Monarch could, unmov'd, survey Those num'rous Hosts, which Time must sweep away: He wept Misfortunes of a distant Date; I mourn the Rigour of my instant Fate: The dreaded Hour approaching fast I see, When you, alas! will all be dead to me. Then cease to wonder, if my Bosom rise, And Tears, unbidden, rush into my Eyes; 'Tis thus, and only thus, a grateful Breast Pours out those Thanks, which cannot be express'd: For, O Hibernia! when I quit thy Coast, Such Friends I leave, as few could ever boast.
