24 
 
 ■ 
 
 
FROM THE LIBRARY OF 
 
 REV. LOUIS FITZGERALD BENSON, D. D. 
 
 BEQUEATHED BY HIM TO 
 
 THE LIBRARY OF 
 
 PRINCETON THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY 
 
 If'l 
 
 
 Di-dsM 
 Section 
 
POEMS 
 
 ON DIFFERENT OCCASIONS 
 
 I 
 
 BY CHARLOTTE RICHARDSON. 
 
POEMS y1 0TWmiic^ 
 
 WRITTEN* 
 
 ON DIFFERENT OCC 
 
 CHARLOTTE RICHARDSON. 
 
 TO WHICH IS PREFIXED 
 
 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE AUTHOR, 
 
 TOGETHER 
 
 WITH THE REASONS WHICH HAVE LED TO THEIH PUBLICATION 
 
 BT CATHARINE CAPPE. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA ■ 
 PRINTED AND SOLD BY KIMBER, CONRAD, Sc CO 
 
 NO. 93, MARKET STREET, 
 AND NO. 170, SOUTH SECOND STKEET. 
 
 1806. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 IF the sole object of the Editor had been 
 to relieve pecuniary distress, by bringing for- 
 ward one instance more, in addition to ma- 
 ny others, of considerable talents, developed 
 under circumstances the most unfavourable, 
 many of the pieces which now form a part 
 of the present selection, would not have been 
 obtruded on the public. But she had a fur- 
 ther, and as it appears to herself, a more 
 important object in view.... she has wished, 
 by examples drawn from real life, more 
 powerfully to impress the mind of the Reader 
 with the great efficacy of religious principle ; 
 to exhibit its importance in calling forth 
 
VI PREFAC 
 
 latent energies, in preserving the human cha- 
 racter from the contagion of vice, that most 
 fatal of all contagions, and to demonstrate, 
 that there is no affliction so severe, as totally 
 to preclude the admission of its salutary and 
 consoling influence ; no situation so mean 
 and abject, not even that of a common poor- 
 house, as wholly to deprive its favoured pos- 
 sessor of true and genuine respectability of 
 character. 
 
 A specimen of the following poems, to- 
 gether with an outline of the writer's history, 
 was sent by the Editor to several of the peri- 
 odical publications in September last ; but 
 as it may happen that some of the generous 
 Subscribers to this little work, may not have 
 seen this account ; as some knowledge of the 
 disadvantages under which the Author has 
 laboured, may be necessary as an apology for 
 inaccuracies to be met with in her composi- 
 tions ; and as this information is essential to 
 
PREFACE. Vll 
 
 the demonstration already adverted to, it will 
 not be deemed altogether unnecessary to tra- 
 vel once more over the same ground. 
 
 Charlotte Smith was born in the year 
 1775, under circumstances the most unfa- 
 vourable ; and it is probable, that whatever 
 in her character or subsequent conduct may 
 have been deserving of praise, has owed its 
 origin to religious impressions, early made 
 upon her mind by the pious conductors of a 
 Sunday-school. By these she was soon dis- 
 tinguished for her uncommon quickness, do- 
 cility, and great desire of information ; and 
 on this account, at their entreaty, was ad- 
 mitted when she was twelve years old, into 
 the Grey-coat School in this city, a vacancy 
 happening at that time out of due course. 
 Here she had little opportunity of mental 
 progress ; the girls educated in that school, 
 being intended for working servants, are 
 kept very close to those occupations which 
 
Vlll PREFACE, 
 
 may best prepare them for their future desti- 
 nation. They are indeed taught to read and 
 write, but it is only a very small portion of 
 their time that is allotted to this purpose.... 
 The Sunday is their only day of rest from 
 manual labour, and this was seized upon with 
 avidity, by the energetic mind of the poor 
 girl we are describing. At church she was 
 so attentive an hearer, that she brought a- 
 way in her memory, whether from the Scrip- 
 tures she heard read there, or the Sermon 
 afterwards preached, many a serious admoni- 
 tion or moral document, which were faithfully 
 treasured up for future use. 
 
 In her sixteenth year, she left the School 
 and went to service, and in a very few 
 months afterwards lost her mother, whose 
 death she very feelingly laments in the first 
 piece of the following selection, her earliest 
 attempt at any thing like regular composi- 
 
PREFACi:. IX 
 
 tion.* She was not fortunate in her first 
 services, neither in the characters of the mas- 
 ters and mistresses, nor of the associates a- 
 mong whom she was thrown.... and under 
 these perplexities, what had formerly in the 
 Grey-coat School been a matter of taste and 
 of mental gratification, became afterwards the 
 means of her safety, and the source of her 
 highest consolation. 
 
 Among the many hardships to which she 
 was now subjected, one of the most distress- 
 ing was, the not having time allowed on the 
 Sunday to attend public worship. Jn one 
 service, where she remained a year, she was 
 never at church the whole time ; and in an- 
 
 * It is very remarkable, that at this time she had never read 
 any poetry (if such indeed it can be called) except the common 
 version of the psalms by Sternhold and Hopkins. Sucli being- 
 the sole prototype, surely the comparative excellence of the copy 
 produced, is very astonishing. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 other which succeeded it, only once during a 
 like period.* Under this privation, the lit- 
 tle storehouse of a faithful memory became 
 peculiarly important ; here wefre treasured 
 up, pieces of sermons, a few scraps of poetry, 
 and proverbs of wisdom for the conduct of 
 life ; and to these she made additions, when- 
 ever she had opportunity, by reading her 
 Bible, the Whole Duty of Man, the interest- 
 ing allegory of Pilgrim's Progress, and 
 Gastrell's Christian Institutes, formerly given 
 her as a reward, by the conductors of the 
 
 * The Editor cannot pass over these facts, without animad- 
 verting on the great reprehensibility of this and of similar con- 
 duct in the masters and mistresses of families... .the folly of it as 
 it respects themselves, and the extreme criminality as it respects 
 the welfare of those committed to their care. With what face 
 can they expect that their servants should be sober and vigilant, 
 faithful and obedient, if they keep them ignorant, as far as it is in 
 their power so to do, that they are moral agents and accounta- 
 b\e creatures ? 
 
PREFACE. XI 
 
 Sunday-school. To this storehouse, and to 
 these books, she retired for comfort, as to 
 so many faithful friends, when the labours of 
 the day were finished; and hence probably 
 acquired that constant habit of looking be- 
 yond the present scene, to a future and better 
 state of things, which is the prominent idea 
 in almost all her little compositions. 
 
 In the year 1796, she was preferred to the 
 station of Cook-maid in the respectable fa- 
 mily of a widow lady, where her condition 
 was in many respects greatly improved.... she 
 had somewhat more leisure for mental cultiva- 
 tion, had access occasionally on the Sunday, to 
 a small selection of books, and took her turn 
 regularly of attending public worship with her 
 fellow female servant. During this period, her 
 only brother, becoming a cripple by a blow he 
 had received during infancy, after a long series 
 of cruel usage from an unfeeling mistress, the 
 wife of the shoemaker to whom he had been 
 
Xll PREFACE. 
 
 bound apprentice, was taken to the poor- 
 house in this city. Here, without a relative 
 or friend, save his afflicted sister, he look- 
 ed forward with tranquillity and composure 
 to that event, which would speedily termi- 
 nate a short life, marked through its whole 
 progress with sorrow and suffering* His 
 patience and resignation were so exempla- 
 ry, that the master and mistress of this 
 motley mansion, loved him as their son ; 
 he was attended, whenever she could ob- 
 tain leave of absence, by his sorrowing sis- 
 ter, who procured for him from time to 
 time every little comfort she could afford, 
 and which the circumstances of his situation 
 could not otherwise supply ; till at length 
 his dying bed supplied a scene, not merely 
 of patient resignation, but of humble con- 
 fidence and joyful hope, from which the 
 favoured sons of rank and opulence might 
 derive many a serious and important lesson. 
 Her affection for this beloved brother did 
 
PREFACE. Xlll 
 
 not terminate here.... she borrowed two 
 guineas of her mistress which were afterwards 
 faithfully repaid, to procure for him a de- 
 cent funeral.* Not long after this event, 
 
 * I am aware that this effort will, by some readers, be attributed 
 to reprehensible pride, rather than to laudable feeling ; but I 
 think we should separate between the natural effects of that affec- 
 tion, which must attach even to the remains of an object tenderly 
 beloved, and which seeks to console itself by paying every out- 
 ward mark of respect in its power, and that foolish desire of an 
 expensive funeral, so unimportant to the dead, and, in many in- 
 stances, so very ruinous to the living. Even here, however, it 
 would surely be the part of wisdom rather to regulate, than to 
 aim at extirpating the principle on which it proceeds ; namely, 
 that of being respectable in the eyes of others. I am told by an 
 ingenious friend, who made a tour in the north of Scotland, last 
 summer, that it is not uncommon when a young couple marry in 
 the Highlands, and retire to their straw-thatched cabin, with 
 scarcely a chair to sit upon, that the first occupation of the bride, 
 is to spin....notfor their future more decent apparel....not for wages 
 to purchase a few necessaries, but, for a winding sheetl Here, it 
 is not the principle, but the application of it that is absurd and 
 ridiculous. ...a decent funeral is their point of honour.... accustomed 
 
 B 
 
Xiv PREFACE. 
 
 Charlotte Smith left that family, and went 
 to live with a second widow lady, where, 
 having money frequently given her to attend 
 the theatre, she saved it from time to time 
 and increased her small library, by the pur- 
 chase of Gray's Poems, Goldsmith's Poems, 
 and the Death of Abel. Here she had a 
 considerable increase of wages.... but she had 
 likewise, from the peculiar circumstances 
 of the family, a great increase of difficulties 
 and anxiety, under some of which, many of 
 the devotional pieces which form a part of 
 this little volume, were composed. 
 
 In the month of October, 1802, she marri- 
 ed a shoemaker of the name of Richardson; 
 and as they had long been mutually attached 
 
 from infancy to extreme poverty, no stigma attaches to the ap- 
 pearance ; but not to be buried according to ancient use and cus- 
 tom, and in the maimer of their ancestors, would be a reproach 
 which nothing could overcome 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 to each other, and he had some property of 
 his own, which enabled them to open a little 
 shop, she appears to have attained to the 
 very summit of her wishes. But this state 
 of unhoped-for prosperity, proved nothing 
 more than a transient gleam.... not long af- 
 ter their marriage, she was attacked by an 
 illness which for some weeks threatened her 
 life, and scarcely was she recovered, when 
 her husband showed alarming symptoms of 
 a pulmonary consumption. As is usual in 
 that disorder, hope and fear for many months 
 were alternately the attendants on the sick 
 couch, till at length all expectation of 
 recovery vanished ; the patient took his bed, 
 and under these trying circumstances, the 
 afflicted wife became a mother. When 
 the infant was two months old he lost his 
 father. The Editor of these papers saw 
 the patient sufferer near the approach of 
 his last moments, his wife hanging over him, 
 wiping the dew from his exhausted frame, 
 
XVI PREFACE. 
 
 with a look of unspeakable anguish ; and a 
 pious clergyman who frequently visited them 
 when under these very trying circumstances, 
 bears ample testimony to the fortitude, hum- 
 ble resignation, and exemplary conduct of 
 both. * For some months the infant appear- 
 ed healthy, and was remarkably lively and in- 
 telligent for his age ; but at length, he too 
 became the victim of disease, and it was, 
 when she was labouring under the almost 
 overwhelming pressure of this accumulated 
 sorrow, that the Editor first became ac- 
 quainted with the poetical talents of the 
 Author. 
 
 By what is usually called an accident, but 
 in stricter language, by the occurrence of one 
 of those circumstances, which however trivi- 
 al they may appear at the time, will after- 
 
 * The Rev. J. Graham 
 
PREFACE. XVI 
 
 wards be found by a careful observer, to be 
 a sort of master key fitted to unlock the fu- 
 ture current of events ; the little piece, enti- 
 tled, "He Sleeps," was put into my hands. 
 Struck with the piety of the sentiments, af- 
 fected by the pathos with which they are ex- 
 pressed, and utterly astonished at the neat- 
 ness, not to say elegance of the composition, 
 it excited in my mind a new interest for the 
 writer : I made further inquiry, and found, 
 to my no small surprise, that she had long 
 been in the habit of putting down in measure 
 the genuine effusions of a very feeling heart ; 
 and she afterwards brought me a whole book 
 of manuscript poems, from which the follow- 
 ing selection is taken. Determining to make 
 the attempt of publishing by subscription 
 for her benefit, an outline of her history, 
 together with a specimen of her poetry, was 
 sent to the Gentlemen's, European, Month- 
 ly, and Lady's Magazines, and to Mrs. Trim- 
 mer's Guardian of Education, together with 
 C 2 
 
XVlil PREFACE. 
 
 proposals for printing, &c. Messrs. Johnson, 
 Hatchard, andMawman, having had the kind- 
 ness to allow their names to be mentioned as 
 receiving subscriptions in London. The very 
 respectable list of Subscribers* annexed, will 
 fully evince the success of the proposals, and 
 will at the same time give the truest pleasure 
 to the benevolent mind ; to that heart of sen- 
 sibility which, too frequently distressed by 
 the exhibition of vice and folly, delights to 
 repose itself, like the weary traveller, upon 
 the Oasis in the desert, on those brighter 
 spots in the human character which so strik- 
 ingly display its divine original ! 
 
 The Reader will rejoice to be informed, 
 that the infant for whose safety he will have 
 sympathized in the feelings of the afflicted 
 mother, is now nearly quite recovered, and 
 that by the aid of the subscriptions, towards 
 
 * The English edition contains a large list of Subscribers. 
 
PREFACE. XIX 
 
 which he himself has generously contributed, 
 she will hereafter be established in a school 
 for their joint support.... He will also be 
 struck and affected by the calm composure 
 with which an Orphan Youth in a poorhouse 
 could meet death ;....an unequivocal proof 
 of that true elevation of character which 
 Christian hopes, and Christian promises, 
 engrafted on Christian virtues, is competent 
 to inspire ! Who would not labour to form 
 such a character in themselves, who would 
 not earnestly desire that it should be formed 
 in others ? 
 
 What would have been the consolation to 
 Charlotte and her suffering brother.... to 
 Charlotte and her dying husband, had they 
 been informed by some of our profound phi- 
 losophers, that the concourse of atoms which 
 by chance had been united, by chance had 
 been vivified.... were now by chance, about 
 to be dissolved.... the vivifying principle, by 
 
XX PREFACE. 
 
 chance, about to be annihilated ? What 
 would have been their sensations, if in the 
 moment of separation they had been inform- 
 ed, that they were now to be separated for 
 ever ?.... Would they not have exclaimed in 
 the bitterness of their souls, with the 
 ©astern Sage of antiquity.... Depart from us 
 we beseech you, " miserable comforters are 
 ye all!" 
 
 I have endeavoured to select from the 
 manuscripts of the Author, those pieces 
 principally which are connected with her 
 own peculiar circumstances. The analysis 
 of a sermon or of a lecture turned into verse, 
 (of which there are several) whatever powers 
 of mind they may display in the simple ar- 
 tificer, would create little interest in that 
 of the Reader. 
 
 It has been no consideration with me that 
 the creed of Charlotte Richardson diifers, 
 
PREFACE. XXI 
 
 in some points materially, from my creed.* 
 Having been precluded by her situation 
 from the possibility of examining the doc- 
 trines of Scriptures for herself, she believes 
 that system of Christianity which she has 
 been taught, and how should she do other- 
 wise ? What ! although in some of her spec- 
 ulative opinions I may deem her mistaken, 
 may I not therefore honour, as it deserves, 
 her piety towards God; her resignation to 
 his will ; her firm dependance upon the pro- 
 mises of his gospel ; her integrity in profess- 
 ing what she believes to be true ; and her en- 
 tire conviction of the extreme importance of 
 
 * Let it not hence be imagined the Editor means to affirm, that 
 she considers error in matters of opinion as of no importance ; 
 she believes on the contrary that, « What a sound eye is to the 
 n body, such, and more, is a well-informed judgment to the 
 t( man.... a faithful guide, a watchful guardian, the source of re- 
 * fined and various pleasures." See an excellent Sermon on the 
 value of truth and danger of error, by the late Rev. J. Kenrick, 
 of Exeter. 
 
XX11 PREFACE. 
 
 a virtuous and holy life exemplified in 
 the practice of every personal and social 
 duty ? In these principles she is not mistaken, 
 and they are of the very essence of the gos- 
 pel.. ..These principles, if acted upon as well 
 as believed, are in my mind fully competent 
 to conduct " the way- faring pilgrim to the 
 promised land." I consider them as the only 
 real discriminating characteristics of the true 
 and genuine disciples of one and the same 
 heavenly Master, and as the only indispensa- 
 ble qualifications of those whom he will here, 
 after acknowledge as his own ; and who with 
 him, will eventually take possession of that 
 glorious kingdom, prepared for them before 
 the foundation of the world, in whatever 
 church, or sect, or party, they may happen 
 
 to be found. 
 
 CATHARINE CAPPE. 
 
 York, Jan. 10, 1806. 
 
POEMS. 
 
 ELEGY 
 
 THE DEATH OF A TENDER INDULGENT MOTHER, 
 
 WHO QUITTED A WORLD OF SIN AND SORROW, ON FRIDAY, 
 NOVEMBER, 5, 1790. AGED FORTY. 
 
 THE night was still, the sky serene, 
 
 The warblers ceased to play ; 
 When slowly o'er the churchyard green, 
 
 Sad Lucy took her way. 
 
 4 Ah ! hapless maid, she wept and cried, 
 
 1 Of friends thou art bereft ; 
 4 Soon as thy tender parent died, 
 
 ' An Orphan thou wert left.' 
 
24 
 
 * With sighs I still recall the scene, 
 
 i When she was torn away ; 
 
 * My heart was fill'd with anguish keen, 
 
 4 With sorrow and dismay.' 
 
 " Adieu," she cried, " my children dear, 
 
 " May Heaven prosper you ! 
 " Should fortune prove to you severe, 
 
 " Still, let your ways be true. 
 
 u In God place all your confidence, 
 " And make his word your guide j 
 
 " He will protect your innocence, 
 41 And for your wants provide. 
 
 " Then when in heaven next we meet, 
 
 " Free from all care and pain ; 
 
 • » ^ . -■ 
 
 " My happiness will be complete.... 
 
 * *£> 
 " We ne'er shall part again !" 
 
25 
 
 * No more she said ; for icy Death 
 
 4 His hand upon her laid ; 
 
 * With smiles she then resign'd her breath, 
 
 ' The debt of Nature paid.' 
 
 4 For ever will my streaming eyes, 
 < With ceaseless tears o'erflow ; 
 
 * All worldly pleasure I despise, 
 
 * My heart is fill'd with woe.' 
 
 In plaintive tone the artless maid 
 Thus did her loss bemoan, 
 
 As pensive, through the lonely shade, 
 She bent her footsteps home. 
 
 ■I 
 
26 
 
 THE ORPHAN'S PRAYER, 
 
 WHEN DISTRESSED BY GREAT UNKINDNESS, 
 IN THE YEAR 1792. 
 
 WHAT, tho' worldly friends may frown, 
 
 Why should I dejected be? 
 Father, let thy love be known, 
 
 Let me find my all in thee ! 
 Never let my soul despair, 
 God will hear the Orphan's prayer. 
 
 The child of Sorrow long I've been, 
 And often for unkindness mourn'd, 
 
 A friendless Orphan, poor and mean, 
 And by the proud and wealthy scorn'd : 
 
 Oft did their scorn my bosom tear, 
 
 Yet God still heard the Orphan's prayer. 
 
27 
 
 Earthly comforts fade and die, 
 Sorrows oft our j oys attend, 
 
 But, whilst we on God rely, 
 He will prove a faithful friend ; 
 
 On him I'll cast my every care, 
 
 For he regards the Orphan's prayer. 
 
 Wean me, Lord, from earthly love, 
 Let my thoughts ascend on high : 
 
 Where my Saviour sits above, 
 Thither may my wishes fly. 
 
 In all my wants may I repair 
 
 To him that hears the Orphan's prayer. 
 
 And when my spirit quits her clay, 
 And enters on a world unknown, 
 
 In yon bright realms of endless day, 
 Jesus thy trembling servant own : 
 
 When thou in glory shalt appear, 
 
 Remember then the Orphan's prayer. 
 
28 
 EPITAPH 
 
 QN ELIZABETH HUBY, AGED SIXTEEN, 1792. 
 
 STAY, traveller, and hither turn thine eye, 
 Here youth, and innocence, and beauty lie : 
 Short was her passage through this vale of woe, 
 In youth's gay prime, Death gave the fatal blow. 
 Resign' d she died, in hopes ere long to raise 
 Her voice, to sing her great Redeemer's praise. 
 
2\> 
 
 PRAYER 
 
 FOR SAFETY AND PROTECTION. 
 
 MY God, to thee my voice I raise ; 
 
 Thy ever watchful eye 
 Can lead me thro' life's dangerous ways,* 
 
 And every want supply. 
 
 Teach me thy precepts to observe, 
 
 By them to guide my way ; 
 O may I never from them swerve, 
 
 But thy commands obey ! 
 
 * The Author was at this time in her nineteenth year, and was 
 thrown amongst associates whose example and conversation were 
 "m every respect low, corrupt, and ruinous editor. 
 
 C2 
 
30 
 
 A portion of thy grace impart,. 
 Which all may freely share ; 
 
 O write thy laws within my heart, 
 And plant thy statutes there ! 
 
 If evil tempt, or sin assail, 
 
 And I no comfort see ; 
 Thy grace, still mighty to prevail^ 
 
 Will set the captive free. 
 
 For thou hast sworn not to forsake 
 Those who on thee depend ; 
 
 Them for thine own thou lov'st to take, 
 And save them to the end. 
 
 Preserv'd by thee from every snare 
 
 I may securely rest ; 
 Defended by thy guardian care, 
 
 In thy assistance blest. 
 
31 
 
 ELEGY 
 
 ON 
 
 THE DEATH OF AN ONLY AND BELOVED BROTHER, 
 
 WHO DEPARTED THIS LIFE, JAN. 3, 1799, AGED 22. 
 
 WHAT piercing sorrow penetrates the heart, 
 When Death, relentless, tears our joys away ! 
 
 When the barb'd arrow strikes the vital part, 
 What poignant griefs the tortur'd bosom sway 
 
 Yet I, alas ! this anguish keen have prov'd, 
 
 Which blighted all my joys and laid them low j 
 
 Sever'd, by death, from him I truly lov'd, 
 
 My brother ! still for thee my tears shall flow. 
 
 Still, still for thee, those fond regrets shall rise, 
 And still for thee, shall flow th' unbidden tear, 
 
 While oft remembrance, to my mental eyes 
 Shall bring the form of him I lov'd so dear ! 
 
32 
 
 Sweet suff'ring saint, 'thy virtues well I knew ; 
 
 Mild as the summer breeze that waves a long, 
 Candid, and just, in all thy dealings true, 
 
 Cautious, and fearful still of doing wrong ! 
 
 Religion held her empire o'er thy mind, 
 With holy Hope and Charity divine, 
 
 She bade thee, in affliction be resign'd, 
 Nor at thy earthly trials, ere repine. 
 
 She taught thee how to bear Affliction's rod, 
 The bitter pains of sickness to sustain ; 
 
 She bade thee bow submissive to thy God, 
 Nor at thy "Maker's will dare to complain. 
 
 No guilty thought e'er stain'd thy spotless mind, 
 Thy blameless life from every vice was free ; 
 
 Content and patient, pitying and kind, 
 Each sacred virtqjfcfwas combin'd in thee ! 
 
Though pale disease oppress'd thy feeble frame, 
 And many a pang thy tortur'd form endur'd ; 
 
 Yet still thy heart maintain'd its holy flame, 
 Still in thy Saviour's love, thou wert assur'd. 
 
 Early deprived of fond maternal care 
 To soothe thy sorrow and assuage thy pain,, 
 
 Yet thy lov'd sister in thy griefs could share, 
 And her affection, calm'd thy heart again. 
 
 O, best of brothers, from the blest abode 
 Still view thy sister with an angel's love [ 
 
 Direct and guide her in the ways of God, 
 That she may meet thee in the realms above ! 
 
 In that dread hour, when earthly joys shall fade, 
 When I, th' appointed course of life have trod, 
 
 Guide me, blest spirit ! through Death's awful shade, 
 Then waft my soul to heaven, to meet my God ! 
 
34 
 
 ON 
 
 MY RECOVERY FROM SUDDEN ILLNESS, 
 
 nov. 18, 1800. 
 
 " PRAISE THE LORD O MY 90UL 1....WH0 REDEEMETH THY LIFE 
 u FROM DESTRUCTION, AND WHO CROWNETH THEE WITH 
 "LOVING KINDNESS AND TENDER MERCY." PSAL. CIII. 1, 4. 
 
 ETERNAL ruler of the sky, 
 Who dost our various wants supply, 
 
 In whom we li^e and move j 
 O hear thy humble suppliant's prayer, 
 And deign to make me still thy care, 
 
 And perfect me in love ! 
 
35 
 
 When low my drooping head reclin'd, 
 When doubts and fears perplex'd my mind, 
 
 I then thy aid implor'd : 
 Thou heardst O God, my feeble pray'r 
 Reliev'd my mind of all its care, 
 
 And soon my health restored ! 
 
 O while I shall my life enjoy, 
 Grant that I may that life employ, 
 
 In works of righteousness : 
 Give me my sinful state to see, 
 And draw me nearer still to thee, 
 And fill my soul with peace ! 
 
 Then when this mortal life is past, 
 And Death, with friendly hand, at last 
 
 Shall close my weary eyes, 
 May guardian angels round me stand, 
 And bear my soul, at thy command, 
 
 To yonder blissful skies ! 
 
36 
 ADDRESS TO RELIGION. 
 
 COME, blest Religion, with thy aid divine, 
 O come and heal this sick'ning heart of mine ! 
 Chase every earthly passion from my breast, 
 And let my drooping soul in thee find rest: 
 O come, and in my breast erect thy throne, 
 There reign without a rival.. ..reign alone ! 
 Teach me to view the world and all its joys 
 As empty shadows and delusive toys ; 
 Let not its fleeting pleasures charm my soul, 
 
 But may thy pow'r my inward foes controul 
 
 If trials wait me, or if ills betide, 
 
 Safe thro' each snare my trembling footsteps guide 
 
 Or, if prosperity should chance to smile, 
 
 O guard my heart from each enchanting wile ; 
 
 Give me that peace, the world can never give, 
 
 And let me thy devoted servant live: 
 
 Let every virtue in my conduct shine, 
 That all may own thy influence is divine ! 
 
lieve, 
 receive. J 
 
 37 
 
 Let soft compassion plead within my breast 
 
 For all my brethren needy, or distress'd : 
 
 Though little be my store, yet let me give 
 
 i 
 
 My humble mite their mis'ry to relieve, 
 
 For 'tis more blest to give, than to receive. 
 
 Let not that hour be banish'd from my mind, 
 
 When this frail clay shall be to dust eonsign'd ; 
 
 But let my soul on Faith's strong pinions rise, 
 
 And view with joy, her mansions in the skies : 
 
 So when the closing scene of life draws nigh, 
 
 The solemn warning comes...." Prepare to die," 
 
 May no vain fear my trembling soul invade, 
 
 To throw a deeper gloom o'er Death's dark shade ! 
 
 Ah ! let my blest Redeemer then be near, 
 
 Kindly to chase away each rising fear j 
 
 Strength to o'ercome may He to me impart, 
 
 And with his love revive my sinking heart ; 
 
 Support me thro' the solemn trying hour, 
 
 And in my weakness, manifest his pow'r ! 
 V D 
 
38 
 
 ON THE CONSOLATION TO BE DERIV 
 ED FROM RELIGION. 
 
 Written in an hour of great anxiety and distress.* 
 
 WHEN sorrow sinks my spirits down, 
 And grief o'erwhelms my troubled mind, 
 
 Faith cries, ' Look up to God alone, 
 ' A refuge thou in him shalt find.' 
 
 My soul obeys the sacred word, 
 
 And casts her care upon the Lord. 
 
 What though Affliction's shades surround 
 My path ; yet God is wise and just, 
 
 And oft my fainting soul has found 
 The promise true on which I trust ; 
 
 Shall I then doubt his sacred word ? 
 
 No.. .let me humbly trust the Lord. 
 
 * The Writer was at this time unkindly treated by her Mistress, 
 and not having any home, or a relation in the world to assist her, 
 found her spirits unusually depressed editor, 
 
39 
 
 'Tis in the hour of deep distress 
 That we religion's comforts prove ; 
 
 The chast'ning hand we feel and bless 
 Of God, that scourges us in love. 
 
 Though Nature shrinks beneath the rod, 
 
 Yet Grace reposes still on God ! 
 
 It is the Lord that strikes the blow, 
 Let every murm'ring thought be still : 
 
 Oft has he made my cup overflow 
 
 And shall I dare dispute his will ? 
 
 For ever be the thought abhorr'd 
 
 My soul, still wait thou on the Lord ? 
 
 Wait.. ..till He bids thy sorrows cease, 
 Till He thy every care remove ; 
 
 And though thy troubles fast increase, 
 Thou need'st not doubt thy Father's love 
 
 Though He delays, yet trust his word, 
 
 For true and faithful is the Lord. 
 
40 
 
 Yes, Israel's God was never known 
 To leave his children in distress : 
 
 Mercy and truth surround his throne, 
 His judgments are in righteousness ; 
 
 Still shall my soul this truth accord, 
 
 I will for ever trust the Lord ! 
 
 It is unnecessary to remark on the justness of the sentiments of 
 this little piece, or to point out, that it gives a faithful delineation 
 of what passes in the pious mind accustomed to refer every thing 
 to God editor. 
 
41 
 
 TO If. SMITH. 
 
 THE INQUIRY. 
 
 WHEN late you ask'd, " Where do your parents 
 dwell?" 
 
 Unconscious of the pain your question gave ; 
 For still this heart with agony will swell 
 
 When memory whispers..." They are in the grave." 
 
 I have no parents, sadly I replied, 
 
 While down my cheeks th' unbidden tear would flow, 
 Nor am I, by the ties of blood allied 
 
 To one kind being in this world below. 
 
 A tender father's care I never knew, 
 
 One only parent blest my early years ; 
 
 Beneath a mother's fost'ring shade I grew 
 
 From infancy to youth.. ..devoid of fears. 
 Q2 
 
42 
 
 Unknown to me was every cause of grief, 
 No anxious cares my happy mind distressed, 
 
 Health and content still bloom'd upon my cheek . 
 And cheerfulness dwelt ever in my breast. 
 
 To youthful minus each object brings delight, 
 The world presents unnumber'd charms to view, 
 
 And fancy'd pleasures eagerly invite, 
 Yet oft, in vain, the phantom we pursue ! 
 
 Scarce had I enter'd on the world's wide stage, 
 Elate with youth's gay hopes of promis'd bliss, 
 
 When soon a different scene my thoughts engage, 
 And into sorrow turn'd my happiness. 
 
 For, ah ! Disease had fix'd his fatal dart 
 
 Within that breast, far dearer than my own j 
 
 And vain, alas ! where all the attempts of art 
 To save the destin'd victim from the tomb ! 
 
43 
 
 Tho' many a year has run its circling round 
 Since my lov'd parent was to dust consign' d ; 
 
 Yet in my heart her image yet is found, 
 
 Still lives the mother, in her daughter's mind ! 
 
 One tender tie remain'd....a brother dear.... 
 
 But he, alas ! Misfortune's victim prov'd, 
 And oft have I conceal'd the falling tear, 
 
 Lest it should wound the bosom which I lov'd ! 
 
 Chill penury and sickness were his lot, 
 Yet, was he to his Maker's will resigned, 
 
 And all his wants and sorrows were forgot, 
 For love divine sustain'd his youthful mind. 
 
 He view'd the approach of death with joyful eyes, 
 
 And often strove my heavy heart to cheer, 
 " Soon," said the expiring saint, " I reach the skies, 
 " And, oh, my sister ! let me meet thee there !" 
 
44 
 
 ••••Forgive these tears, my Mary.. ..you have known 
 Those agonizing pangs that pierce the heart ; 
 
 You too have wept o'er a lov'd parent's tomb, 
 And felt what 'tis from those we love to part ! 
 
 ••••Now, on the world's bleak waste, I stand alone. 
 
 An unprotected orphan I am left ; 
 To me, the names of kindred are unknown, 
 
 Of each endearing comfort, I'm bereft ! 
 
 Yet, though a tender sadness fills my breast, 
 I u sorrow not as those who have no hope ;" 
 
 For to that God who gives the weary rest, 
 With humble confidence I dare look up. 
 
 I know my heavenly Father, good and kind, 
 Will not, without a cause, his children grieve, 
 
 His promises support and cheer my mind, 
 And countless mercies I from him receive ! 
 
45 
 
 ODE 
 
 ADDRESSED TO THE GRAY COAT SCHOOL j* 
 
 The former scene of my happiest days. 
 
 BLEST be the spot, where Charity presides, 
 Where Pity, for the Orphans' wants provides, 
 And gently strives to cheer the drooping mind 
 Of those who erst in want and mis'ry pin'd ; 
 
 And with kind assiduous care, 
 
 Wipes away the falling tear 
 
 From the pale cheek, where Penury 
 
 Had dampt the playful mirth of infancy, 
 Bids every anxious fear depart, 
 
 And heals with soft Compassion's balm, the bleeding heart ! 
 
 * See an account of this institution, and of the new regulations 
 introduced into it, in a pamphlet entitled, " An Accountof two 
 Charity Schools, &c. by Catharine Cappe ." 
 
46 
 
 O, sweet employ! to guide the steps of those 
 
 Who late in ignorance and error stray'd ; 
 To snatch the helpless infant from the woes, 
 Which cheerless Poverty around her spread 
 To pour instruction o'er the mind, 
 Ere now in ignorance confin'd ; 
 Each youthful bosom to inspire 
 With sacred Virtue's gen'rous fire, 
 
 To point them upwards to that blest abode, 
 Where dwells enthron'd in light, their maker.. ..God* 
 
 And oh, how sweet to tell the love 
 
 Which the Messiah bore, 
 When, for our sakes, he left his seat above, 
 And our weak, sinful nature wore ! 
 When Angels wond'ring stood to see 
 The Lord of life hang bleeding on the tree !... 
 Amaz'd to hear such love, they raise 
 Their lisping tongues to sing.. ..their great Redeemer's 
 praise. 
 
47 
 
 Within that tranquil, calm retreat, 
 The kindred Virtues love to meet, 
 
 (Religion leads the train) 
 And listens to the orphan's song, 
 Whilst Echo doth the notes prolong;.... 
 
 Harmonious, grateful strain ! 
 There, white rob'd Innocence is seen, 
 And Cheerfulness, with look serene, 
 
 Mild, unassuming Modesty, 
 
 Content and smiling Industry ; 
 Whilst Heaven's approving eye surveys, 
 How in sweet piety they pass their peaceful days. 
 
 Be ever blest ye gen'rous souls, 
 Attentive to the tender calls, 
 
 Of soft Humanity ! 
 Who, in the dwelling of despair, 
 Bid the seraph, Hope, appear, 
 To ease the anguish of the throbbing breast. 
 By fond parental fears distress'd. 
 
48 
 
 Dear honour'd Guardians of my infancy, 
 Whose kindness cheer'd my opening morn, 
 May all who feel your gentle sway, 
 With gratitude your cares repay : 
 With rapture may your bosoms glow, 
 With kindlingjoy may you behold, 
 In those, so late a prey to want and woe, 
 
 The buds of virtue first begin t' unfold. 
 Still follow Mercy's golden rule, 
 And with redoubled zeal pursue 
 The godlike end you have in view, 
 While thousands yet unborn, 
 Shall bless the generous Founders of the Grey Coat 
 School. 
 
 
49 
 
 PARAPHRASE OF MAT. XI. 28. 
 
 COME UNTO ME ALL YE THAT LABOUR AND ARE 
 " HEAVY LADEN, AND I WILL GIVE YOU REST." 
 
 COME every soul by sin oppress'd, 
 And burdened with the heavy load, 
 
 Enter into your Saviour's rest, 
 
 Taste of his grace, and trust his word. 
 
 He calls the weary wand'rer home, 
 And can you still that call refuse ? 
 
 E'en sinners He invites to come, 
 His kindness, will you yet abuse ? 
 
 See where your gracious Saviour stands, 
 
 Waiting each outcast to receive ; 
 
 For you He spreads his pierced hands, 
 
 Ah ! be not faithless, but believe ! 
 E 
 
50 
 
 Believe in Him who died for you,* 
 Who died that you might ever live ! 
 
 He will your fainting strength renew,f 
 And grace and glory to you give. 
 
 * There is a sense, and a very important one, in which the 
 Editor can here join issue with the Author ; for if our blessed Lord 
 had not died a violent as well as a public death, we of this distant 
 day could not have had the proofs we now possess of the reality of 
 his death, and should have wanted the peculiar consolations we 
 now enjoy in consequence of his triumphant resurrection from the 
 dead, and of his ascension to a state of glory ; by which, to adopt 
 the highly figurative language of an Apostle, " he led captivity 
 " captive, and obtained gifts for men ;*' viz. the gifts of the Holy 
 Spirit. He may therefore not unjustly be said, to have died for us, 
 i. e. for our benefit. 
 
 t " He will your fainting strength renew".... Here again the Edi- 
 tor can adopt the language of the Author, since Christ is justly 
 said to do, whatever is affected by his gospel. ...editor. 
 
51 
 
 O hasten then, refuse no more 
 
 To hear your honoured Shepherd's voice 
 To bear your burden He has pow'r, 
 
 His love can make the heart rejoice. 
 
52 
 
 WRITTEN 
 
 UNDER GREAT DOUBT, AND ANXIETY OF MIND, 1801 
 
 O THOU whose piercing eye surveys 
 
 The inmost secrets of my soul, 
 O guide me in thy sacred ways, 
 
 And all my actions, Lord, controul. 
 
 Wisely to choose is my desire ;* 
 But O do thou that choice direct, 
 
 And let tlry grace my soul inspire, 
 The false pretender to detect. 
 
 * If young Ladies who move in a sphere however different 
 from that of a simple cook-maid, would in this instance follow her 
 example, and entreat of God to direct and bless their matrimonial 
 connections, should we hear so frequently of their uniting them- 
 selves with men of the most unprincipled and libertine character ?.... 
 Would our Newspapers be filled Vith so many unhappy cases in 
 Doctors Commons, and would the manners of too many among the 
 great, continue to be, as they are at present, a disgrace and a re- 
 proach to their countrv ? editor 
 
53 
 
 My future happiness or woe, 
 
 Upon my present choice depend, 
 
 Show me the way I ought to go 
 
 And be my Father, and my Friend ! 
 
 Let not this treacherous heart of mine 
 To inclination yield the sway, 
 
 But unto thee my fate resign, 
 
 And wait, till thou shalt point the way. 
 
 E2 
 
54 
 
 PRAISE FOR THE BLESSINGS OF THE 
 GOSPEL. 
 
 LUKE 11.13,14. " AND SUDDENLY THERE WAS WITH THE AN- 
 " GEL A MULTITUDE OF THE HEAVENLY HOST PRAISING 
 " GOD, AND SAYING, GLORY TO GOD IN THE HIGHEST, AND 
 " ON EARTH PEACE, GOOD WILL TOWARDS MEN." 
 
 AWAKE my muse, awake and sing 
 The praises of thy heav'nly King ; 
 Awake and join the sacred throng, 
 The Saviour's love demands thy song. 
 In grateful strains attune thy lyre 
 And emulate th' Angelic choir, 
 Loudly the joyful news proclaim 
 Salvation, is in Jesu's name ! 
 Salvation ! shout the glorious sound, 
 Proclaim it to the world around. 
 
55 
 
 Tell ev'ry fearful trembling soul, 
 
 The Saviour's word shall make him whole, 
 
 Invite the indigent to come, 
 
 Jesus declares there still is room : 
 
 Jesus ! that name shall calm their fears, 
 
 Dispel their doubts and dry their tears, 
 
 Shall ease the anxious throbbing breast, 
 
 And give the weary mourner rest: 
 
 Jesus ! my Prophet, Priest, and King, 
 To him in grateful strains I'll sing; 
 I'll praise him whilst I have my breath, 
 And when my voice is lost in death, 
 O may my happier spirit rise 
 To join the chorus in the skies ! 
 
56 
 
 A VALENTINE, 
 
 ADDRESSED BY THE AUTHOR TO A, B. 
 FEB. 14, 1802. 
 
 NO tales of love to you I send, 
 
 No hidden flame discover, 
 I glory in the name of Friend, 
 
 Disclaiming that of Lover. 
 And now while each fond sighing youth 
 Repeats his vows of love and truth, 
 Attend to this advice of mine j 
 With caution choose a Valentine. 
 
 Heed not the Fop who loves himself, 
 Nor let the Rake your love obtain ; 
 Choose not the Miser for his pelf, 
 
 The Drunkard, treat with cold disdain. 
 The Profligate with caution shun, 
 His race of ruin soon is run : 
 To none of these your heart incline, 
 Nor choose from them a Valentine. 
 
57 
 
 But, should some gen'rous youth appear 
 
 Whose honest mind is void of art, 
 Who shall his Maker's laws revere, 
 
 And serve Him with a willing heart ; 
 Who owns fair Virtue for his guide, 
 Nor from her precepts turns aside j 
 To him at once your heart resign, 
 And bless your faithful Valentine. 
 
 Though in this wilderness below 
 
 You still imperfect bliss shall find, 
 Yet such a friend will share each woe, 
 And bid you be to Heav'n resign' d : 
 While faith unfolds the radiant prize, 
 And Hope still points beyond the skies, 
 At life's dark storms you'll not repine, 
 But bless the day of Valentine. 
 
58 
 
 VALENTINE 
 
 TO R. R. WRITTEN EXTEMPORE, FEB. 14, 1802. 
 
 CUSTOM, whose laws we all allow, 
 And bow before his shrine, 
 Has so ordain'd, my Friend, that you 
 Are now my Valentine. 
 
 Ah, could my humble Muse aspire « 
 
 To catch the flame divine ! 
 These are the gifts that I'd require 
 
 For thee, my Valentine. 
 
 May Virtue o'er thy steps preside, 
 
 And in thy conduct shine ; 
 May Truth and Wisdom ever guide 
 
 And guard my Valentine. 
 
59 
 
 May Piety, seraphic maid ! 
 
 Her influence divine 
 Shed on thy head, and ever lead, 
 
 And bless my Valentine. 
 
 Life's dang'rous paths safe may'st thou tread. 
 
 Shielded by Grace divine ; 
 And when these artless lines are read, 
 
 Think on thy Valentine ! 
 
60 
 
 TO AN ACQUAINTANCE, 
 
 ON HER MARRIAGE, 
 
 ACCOMPANIED BY A SMALL PRESENT, 1802. 
 
 THOUGH small the gift to you I send, 
 
 Acceptance let it meet, 
 For even trifles from a Friend 
 
 To Friendship's eye are sweet. 
 
 O may you ev'ry blessing prove 
 
 The marriage state can give ; 
 Enjoy the sweets of mutual love, 
 
 And blest, and blessing, live ! 
 
 And may the Youth whom you prefer, 
 Prove worthy of your choice ; 
 
 May he his Maker's laws revere, 
 And in his ways rejoice. 
 
61 
 
 For Piety can cheer the mind 
 Which various cares depress, 
 
 Can give (what worldlings never find) 
 Contentment, joy, and peace! 
 
 Though gloomy prospects should arise 
 
 And cast a shade around ; 
 Confide in him who built the skies. 
 
 In him your help is found. 
 
 All those who on his aid depend, 
 
 Who in his name confide, 
 Shall find in him a faithful Friend, 
 
 A Father, and a Guide. 
 
62 
 ELEGY 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF MRS. T. WITHERS, APRIL, 1802 
 
 ** THE BLESSING OF HIM THA.T "WAS READY TO PERISH CAME 
 " UPON HEP., AND SHE CAUSED THE HEART OF THE WIDOW 
 AND THE ORPHAN TO SING FOR JOY." 
 
 ONCE more my weeping Muse attunes her lyre, 
 Once more she tries the elegiac strain ; 
 
 And though she boasts no rich poetic fire, 
 Nor forms a wish the meed of Fame to gain ; 
 
 Yet doth this heart with warm affection glow, 
 Soft gratitude my feeble lays inspire, 
 
 Withers, for thee these streaming sorrows flow, 
 For thee, to mournful notes, I touch the lyre. 
 
63 
 
 Yes, my lov'd Benefactress ! in this heart 
 Thy cherish'd image evermore shall dwell, 
 
 Nor from thy lov'd idea will I part, 
 
 Long as this falt'ring tongue thy worth can tell ! 
 
 Dear, gen'rous guardian of my early years, 
 With grateful tenderness I oft review 
 
 Thy kind solicitude, thy watchful cares, 
 
 Till sorrowing thoughts, my tearful grief renew. 
 
 Whene'er in Folly's path I heedless stray'd, 
 Thy friendly voice my erring steps reprov'd ; 
 
 I heard the call, and eagerly obey'd, 
 
 In hope once more to be by thee approv'd : 
 
 But now no more can I thy aid receive, 
 
 That aid, which all who sought, were sure to gain, 
 
 For 'twas thy greatest pleasure to relieve, 
 And socth the victim of disease and pain. 
 
64 
 
 The wretched and the poor were still thy care, 
 The weak and needy, found in thee a friend ! 
 
 For thee to heav'n the Widow's fervent pray'r, 
 For thee the Orphan's blessings did ascend! 
 
 Yon sorrowing throng, Whom late thy bounty fed, 
 
 Who from thy lib'ral hand found sure relief, 
 Now mourn in tears their Benefactress dead, 
 And in pathetic strains express their grief! 
 
 See drown' d in tears, yon lately smiling band 
 Of helpless Infants, who thy loss deplore, 
 Now fill'd with grief the artless mourners stand, ' 
 And weeping tell, that Withers is no more ! 
 
 Yet while we mourn thy loss, we'll raise our eyes, 
 And view by faith the palm and starry crown ; 
 
 Faith shall unfold the glories of the skies, 
 And point to joys that live beyond the tomb ! 
 
65 
 
 Why then lament ?....Sure they are greatly blest 
 Who to their Saviour can their souls entrust, 
 
 For them he hath prepared a place of rest, 
 Where Hope itself is in fruition lost. 
 
 No longer then of Withers' death complai] 
 Rather rejoice that all her suff 'rings cease . 
 
 For her a to live, was Christ, to die v. as gain," 
 And now she triumphs in the realms cf n 
 
 F 2 
 
66 
 
 ELEGY 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF THE LATE DR. ROBERT CAPPE, 
 
 On a voyage to Italy, for the recovery of his health,* 
 
 November 16, 1802. 
 
 IF modest worth and sweetness could obtain 
 A respite from the tyrant's conquering hour, 
 
 Lamented Cappe ! then had we not in vain 
 Implor'd for thee, Health's renovating pow'r. 
 
 But ah ! nor prayers, nor tears can aught avail 
 To ward from thee, the last decisive blow, 
 
 With grief we see each varied method fail, 
 Compell'd to leave thee to the ruthless foe ! 
 
 * He attended the Author in a severe illness already alluded 
 to, in the year 1800, and was happily instrumental to her re- 
 covery editor-. 
 
67 
 
 Say ye, who oft have felt his healing aid, 
 
 And blest the hand by which ye were restor'd ; 
 
 How great the tenderness which he display'd, 
 What anxious kindness in each gentle word ! 
 
 Mute is that tongue, whose soothing accents cheer'd 
 The languid soul, by Sickness dire oppress'd ; 
 
 Clos'd are those eyes, which, when Distress appeared ; 
 Spoke the warm feelings of a gen'rous breast ! 
 
 That heart which keenly felt for others' woe, 
 Has ceas'd to beat, and can be pain'd no more j 
 
 O'er his pale corpse the wat'ry billows flow, 
 Far distant from his once lov'd native shore !* 
 
 * See Memoirs of his Life, by the Rev. Charles Wellbeloved, 
 affixed to a volume of Sermons, lately published, of his late Fa- 
 ther's, the Rev. Newcome Cappe editor. 
 
6S 
 
 What ! though no sculptur'd monument appears, 
 No pompous epitaphs his praise express, 
 
 From numerous eyes the tributary tears 
 
 Far more than words, his real worth express ! 
 
 Mysterious Heav'n ! how wond'rous are thy ways ! 
 
 Yet let not us presume those ways to scan, 
 Not dare, 'gainst God, a murm'ring thought to raise. 
 
 For resignation, is the part of man. 
 
69 
 
 INVITATION TO THE SACRAMENT. 
 
 THE Lord of hosts a feast prepares, 
 And bids the poor and needy come ; 
 
 Ye wand'rers haste ! for he declares 
 For every sinner there is room. 
 
 Ye broken-hearted, self-abhorr'd, * 
 Who groan beneath the weight of sin, 
 
 Approach the table of the Lord, 
 
 His word hath power to make you clean. 
 
 Ye faithful followers of the Lord, 
 
 Whom the unthinking world despise. 
 
 Who boldly dare his love record, 
 
 Now let your pray'rs, like incense, rise. 
 
70 
 
 Here in the mystic bread and wine, 
 
 Your Saviour's death you see display'd ; 
 
 Here the Redeemer's glories shine, 
 'Tis here his faithful ones are fed. 
 
 Behold ! his body bruis'd and torn, 
 Mangled and scourg'd by cruel men j 
 
 See on his head the thorny crown, 
 The crown of agony and pain ! 
 
 Those feet, " so beautiful," which brought, 
 a Good tidings of salvation" nigh j 
 
 Those hands, so oft in pray'r stretch'd out, 
 Now on the cross extended lie ! 
 
 The soldiers mocking, bend the knee, 
 And " Hail King of the Jews," exclaim, 
 
 Whilst bare contempt, and infamy, 
 Are heap'd upon his sacred name ! 
 
71 
 
 Those voices, which so lately cry'd 
 " Hosanna to king David's Son," 
 
 Now shout, " Let him be crucified," 
 And lo ! the impious deed is done ! 
 
 Behold him on the accursed tree, 
 
 Behold the blood flow from his side : 
 
 Sinner, that blood was shed for thee ! 
 For thee, thy Lord and Saviour dy'd ! 
 
 Ye who the Saviour love, draw near, 
 Once more your sacred cov'nant seal, 
 
 His own blest ordinance revere, 
 And all your wants to him reveal. 
 
 Wayfaring pilgrims bound for Heav'n, 
 And trav'ling through a dang'rous road, 
 
 Lord, let thy grace to us be giv'n, 
 And guide us to thy blest abode ! 
 
72 
 
 May all who now assemble here, 
 
 And Jesus " Lord and Master" call, 
 
 In yon bright realms of bliss appear, 
 "Where God we know, is " all in all."* 
 
 * 1 Cor. xv. 24—29 
 
73 
 OlSKMY BIRTH-DAY, 
 
 MARCH 5, 1803. 
 
 AND now another year is gone, 
 
 Another natal hour I view ; 
 The past will never more return, 
 
 O may I well begin the new ! 
 
 May I devote this year to God, 
 And in his service spend my days, 
 
 Direct my conduct by his word, 
 And only live, his name to praise ! 
 
 May I resolve to bear the cross, 
 
 My Saviour's steps with zeal pursue. 
 
 To count my highest gain but loss, 
 Till faith and love my soul renew ! 
 
If Sin entice my wand'ring heart, 
 Or Pleasure's form my soul allure ; 
 
 Oh may I feel Contrition's smart, 
 Nor rest, till I obtain the cure ! 
 
 As life's delusive maze I tread, 
 Still let me in thy name confide ; 
 
 Amidst the dangers round me spread, 
 Do thou vouchsafe to be my guide ! 
 
75 
 
 ADDRESSED, 
 DURING MY OWN SEVERE ILLNESS, 
 
 TO THE KINDEST OF HUSBANDS. 
 
 WHY heaves my Richardson that piercing sigh? 
 
 Why thus to unavailing grief give way ? 
 Why dost thou raise to Heav'n that mournful eye, 
 
 That agonizing look of deep dismay ? 
 
 What though disease has o'er thy Charlotte spread 
 Its pallid hue, and wither'd every bloom, 
 
 Though balmy health from her pale cheek is fled, 
 And wasting sickness bears her to the tomb ; 
 
 Ah ! why regret that all her pains shall cease ? 
 
 Why sorrow, that her weary days are past ? 
 That in yon mansions of eternal peace, 
 
 Her steadfast soul shall find relief at last. 
 
76 
 
 There, sin and sorrow shall assail no more 
 Her happy spirit ,* there, increasing joy 
 
 Shall fill her soul ; and ever to adore 
 
 Her God and Saviour, be her sweet employ ! 
 
 
 Fain would she bow submissive to his will, 
 Nor at her Makers dread decree repine, 
 
 Would bid each rising, murm'ring thought, be still, 
 And calmly, thee, her best belov'd ! resign, 
 
 But ah! fond Nature, here asserts her claim, 
 And re-assumes her empire in this breast, 
 
 Affection binds me with her pow'rful chain, 
 For who like me, have been so truly blest ! 
 
 UnequalPd love and tenderness were thine, 
 Which time not lessen'd, but the more increased 
 
 In thee the lover and the friend combine, 
 
 Deep in my heart, thy kindness is impress'd. 
 
77 
 
 WHEN THREATENED WITH AN IN- 
 VASION, 
 
 IN THE SUMMER OF 1803. 
 
 ALMIGHTY God, with pitying eye, 
 Look down upon our troubled land, 
 
 To thee alone for aid we cry, 
 
 We trust in thy all-pow'rful hand : 
 
 Once more let war and discord cease, 
 
 Restore again the joys of peace ! 
 
 With grief and shame, Lord, we confess 
 
 That our iniquities abound ; 
 Our sins, alas ! are numberless, 
 
 Light in the balance we are found ! 
 Whilst vice on ev'ry side we see, 
 How dare we lift our eyes to thee J 
 
 G 2 
 
78 
 
 Thy holy sabbaths are profan'd ; 
 
 Each daring sinner, slights thy word ! 
 Thy sacred name how oft blasphem'd ; 
 
 What multitudes forget their God ! 
 Lord, humbly in the dust we own 
 Our sins have cali'd thy judgments down ? 
 
 A favour 5 d nation we have been, 
 
 Blest with the gospel's joyful sound ; 
 
 Justice in Britain held her reign, 
 
 And faithful pastors there were found : 
 
 ....Well may we fear, so base we've prov'd, 
 
 Our gospel light may be remov'd ! 
 
 Yet, are there not a pious few 
 
 Who deeply mourn these ills to see ? 
 
 For Zion's welfare who renew 
 
 Their supplications, Lord, to thee! 
 
 Vouchsafe to hear their earnest pray'r, 
 
 And our endanger'd country spare I 
 
79 
 
 PARAPHRASE 
 
 WRITTEN IN MY DEAR HUSBAND'S LAST ILLNESS. 
 
 LEAVE THY FATHERLESS CHILDRRN, I WILL PROTECT THEM, 
 AND LET THY WIDOWS TRUST IN ME." JER. XLIX. 11. 
 
 * WHY is thy heart with grief oppress'd ? 
 1 And why hath sorrow fill'd thy breast ? 
 
 1 These flowing tears restrain ! 
 
 * Still to thy Maker's will divine," 
 1 Submissive bow, nor dare repine 
 
 1 At aught he shall ordain * 
 
80 
 
 ' Commit thyself to me, thy Lord, 
 4 Repose thyself upon my word, 
 
 c And in my truth confide ; 
 1 Thy tender babes shall be my care, 
 4 I'll guard them from each hurtful snare, 
 
 " And for their wants provide. 
 
 4 If they my statutes shall observe, 
 
 * I them from evil will preserve, 
 
 4 And be their constant friend ; 
 
 * I'll bless them with my saving grace, 
 
 4 I'll lead them through the paths of peace, 
 4 To joys that never end. 
 
 4 No longer then in sadness grieve, 
 
 * But in my promises believe, 
 
 4 Which steadfast are and sure ; 
 4 Thy dearest comforts now resign, 
 < And raise thy thoughts to joys divine, 
 
 4 And to the end endure.' 
 
81 
 
 Here then my soul, securely rest, 
 Nor let one anxious fear molest, 
 
 Or more disturb thy peace, 
 Whate'er thy Maker shall decree, 
 Is wise, and good, and best for thee, 
 
 His ways are righteousness. 
 
 And thou, dear partner of my heart, 
 Repine not, though we now must part, 
 
 But with submission bow, 
 For He who crown'd our marriage state 
 With blessings numerous and great, 
 
 Can higher bliss bestow. 
 
 United by the tend'rest love, 
 Severe indeed the stroke will prove 
 
 That shall that union rend ; 
 Though painful now to part, yet soon 
 We meet where sorrow is unknown, 
 
 Where joy shall never end. 
 
82 
 
 AFTER THE DEATH OF MY DEAR HUS- 
 BAND, 1804. 
 
 BEREFT of all I lov'd below, 
 Of all that could this life endear, 
 
 My blooming prospects chang'd to woe, 
 How gloomy does the scene appear ! 
 
 Whatever way I turn mine eyes, 
 No gleam of comfort can I see, 
 
 For all that my fond heart could prize, 
 Was centred, Richardson ! in thee. 
 
 Yes, thou wert dearer to my soul 
 Than all this flatt'ring world can give 
 
 My life, my treasure, and my all, 
 For thee alone I wish'd to live f 
 
83 
 
 Fondly I dream'd of lasting bliss, 
 
 But ah ! how soon my dream was broke ! 
 
 And all my boasted happiness 
 Was ended, by that fatal stroke ! 
 
 A Widow's mournful name I bear, 
 By sorrow and by care oppress'd, 
 
 No sounds of joy salute mine ear, 
 And grief sits heavy on my breast. 
 
 My Infant smiles and looks so gay, 
 
 Redoubling every pain I feel : 
 To grief and misery a prey, 
 
 What can my wounded bosom heal ? 
 
 My God ! to thee I raise mine eyes, 
 
 Calm resignation I implore ; 
 O let no murm'ring thought arise, 
 
 But humbly, let me still adore, 
 
84 
 
 With meek submission, may I bear 
 Each needful cross thou shalt ordain ; 
 
 Nor think my trials too severe, 
 Nor dare thy justice to arraign. 
 
 For though mysterious now thy ways 
 To erring mortals may appear, 
 
 Hereafter we thy name shall praise 
 For all our keenest suff 'rings here. 
 
 Now, Lord, thy needful aid afford, 
 Nor let me sink in deep despair, 
 
 Aid me to trust thy sacred word, 
 To find nvji; sweetest comforts there. 
 
 Though thorns and briers choke the way 
 My trembling feet are doom'd to tread ;. 
 
 Though clouds of terror and dismay 
 Are bursting o'er my helpless head ; 
 
85 
 
 Yet Faith unveils a brighter scene, 
 "Where all life's painful conflicts cease, 
 
 Where no dark clouds ere intervene, 
 No sorrows ere disturb our peace ! 
 
 H 
 
86 
 
 TO MY INFANT ASLEEP. 
 
 SLEEP on, sweet babe, for thou canst sleep ! 
 
 No sorrows rend thy peaceful breast, 
 Thy pensive Mother wakes to weep, 
 
 Depriv'd by grief, of balmy rest ! 
 
 May angels watch around thy bed, 
 Thee safe from ev'ry ill defend ; 
 
 May heav'n unnumbered blessings shed, 
 And be thy never failing friend ! 
 
 Sleep on, sleep on, my baby dear, 
 Thy little heart from sorrow free, 
 
 Knows not the anxious pangs that tear 
 Thy Mother's breast, sweet babe, for thee ! 
 
87 
 
 Soft be thy slumbers, Sorrow's child ! 
 
 Serene and tranquil be thy rest ; 
 Oft have thy smiles my tears beguil'd, 
 
 And sooth'd my agitated breast ! 
 
 Thine infant tongue has never known 
 A father's name, nor can thine eyes 
 
 Recal to mind the graceful form, 
 That low in Death's embraces lies ! 
 
 But I, in thee delight to trace, 
 That form, so tenderly belov'd ! 
 
 To picture in thy smiling face 
 
 His image, far from earth remov'd ! 
 
 His pious cares thou canst not share, 
 Nor can he guide thy tender youth, 
 
 Or guard thee from each hurtful snare, 
 Or lead thee in the paths of truth ! 
 
88 
 
 The sad, yet pleasing task, be mine, 
 To virtue's ways, thy mind to form, 
 
 To point to thee those truths divine. 
 Which in the gospel are made known. 
 
 With Reason's dawn thou shalt be taught, 
 Thy father's God betimes to know ; 
 
 The wonders he for us hath wrought, 
 Shall be thy mother's task to show* 
 
 Each rising, and each setting sun, 
 Thy little hands in pray'r shall raise, 
 
 And early, shalt thine infant tongue 
 Be taught to lisp thy Maker's praise ! 
 
89 
 
 TO MY DEAREST FRIEND M. S , 
 
 ON HER BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 TO hail my M ary's natal day, 
 
 The Muse her simple tribute brings j 
 
 Accept, dear friend, the artless lay, 
 Which from affection's bosom springs. 
 
 Oh Mary, may each added year, 
 
 Be with each increasing comforts crown' d ; 
 May no corroding, anxious care, 
 
 No adverse storms your bosom wound ! 
 
 How many in their early bloom, 
 
 Who vainly banish' d every fear, 
 
 Are sleeping in the silent tomb, 
 
 Whilst you are spar'd another year ? 
 H 2 
 
90 
 
 Too many have unheeded past, 
 
 And death may now be drawing nigh ; 
 
 This year perhaps may be your last.... 
 Are you, my friend, prepared to die ? 
 
 Should you now hear the awful sound, 
 " The bridegroom comes, ye dead arise, 
 
 " Awake, ye prisoners of the tomb, 
 
 " And meet your Saviour in the skies." 
 
 Could you with hope lift up your head, 
 And joy to see the judge appear ? 
 
 Or would your soul be nll'd with dread, 
 O'erwhelm'd with agonizing fear ? 
 
 O may the pow'r of truth divine, 
 Shine forth in radiant lustre bright, 
 
 Dispel all darkness from your mind, 
 And fill your soul with heav'nly light ! 
 
91 
 
 Then shall you find this maxim true, 
 " Religion's paths, are paths of peace," 
 
 Her pleasures are for ever new, 
 Her precepts lead to happiness. 
 
 Should tlireat'ning storms around you rise, 
 And temporal prospects dark appear, 
 
 Religion points beyond the skies, 
 She bids you hope for comfort there. 
 
92 
 
 HE SLEEPS. 1805. 
 
 OFT as I wander round the spot, 
 
 To Sorrow sacred made, 
 Beneath whose consecrated turf. 
 
 My Richardson is laid ; 
 My bleeding heart again recalls 
 
 Past hours of heart-felt bliss, 
 Whilst mem'ry only serves to make 
 
 My sorrows flow afresh ! 
 
 But soft ! methinks I hear a voice 
 
 Descending from above 
 Which cries, ' my chast'ning hand I lay 
 
 4 On those I dearly love ; 
 
 * To try their faith, their love to me, 
 
 4 I bid their joys decrease, 
 
 * But all who on my word rely, 
 
 4 In me find perfect peace.' 
 
93 
 
 My God! I hear thine awful voice, 
 
 And dare no more repine, 
 Humbled beneath thy mighty arm, 
 
 I own the stroke divine ! 
 I'll strive to overcome this grief; 
 
 Assist me with thy grace, 
 And let me in affliction's hour, 
 
 Possess my soul in peace ! 
 
 For ah ! why should this wayward heart 
 
 In fruitless sorrow mourn, 
 Since pain and sorrow are the lot, 
 
 Of all of woman born ; 
 My Richardson from every woe 
 
 Has found a sweet release, 
 And in the mansions of the tomb, 
 
 He sleeps, and is at peace ! 
 
94 
 
 No more can Envy's secret sting 
 
 Its pois'nous canker spread, 
 Malice and Calumny no more 
 
 Their baneful venom shed, 
 Vain are their efforts now to wound, 
 
 Their idle rage may cease, 
 For safe within the silent tomb, 
 
 He sleeps, and is at peace ! 
 
 But chief, no more the tyrant Sin, 
 
 Can ere his soul enslave, 
 The captive's loosen'd from his chains, 
 
 Through Jesu's pow'r to save ; 
 His warfare now is at an end, 
 
 And all his conflicts cease, 
 For ever freed, he now enjoys, 
 
 Uninterrupted peace ! 
 
95 
 
 But when th' Archangel's voice is heard, 
 
 Resounding through the skies, 
 ^That voice which cleaves the ponderous tombs, 
 
 And bids the dead arise) 
 The graves obedient hear the call, 
 
 Their prisoners release, 
 And all who sleep in Jesus now, 
 
 Shall reign with him in peace. 
 
 May I, at that tremendous hour, 
 
 With holy joy awake, 
 And with the ransom'd of the Lord, 
 
 In endless bliss partake ; 
 My Richardson I then shall join. 
 
 Where pain and parting cease, 
 And spend a sweet eternity, 
 
 In harmony and peace. 
 
96 
 
 SONNET 
 
 ADDRESSED TO MR. M R,* JUNE, 1805. 
 
 MATHER, 'tis thine, with heav'n-directed skill, 
 
 To stay the progress of th' insidious foe, 
 To bid the pallid cheek, where sickness reigns, 
 
 Once more with health's reviving tints to glow. 
 O may that skill, exerted for his aid, 
 
 Once more succeed my infant to restore.; 
 That I no longer may his suff 'rings mourn, 
 
 Or, in my child, again his Sire deplore ! 
 
 Then shall my fervent pray'rs for thee ascend, 
 To him, who oft hath crow'nd thee with success, 
 
 My infant too shall join his voice with mine, 
 The kind restorer of his health, to bless ! 
 
 May heav'n indulgent, grant me this request 
 
 And peace again shall reign within my troubled breast. 
 
 * An eminent Surgeon who kindly attended the Infant editor. 
 
97 
 
 PRAYER 
 
 FOR MY AFFLICTED CHILD, JULY 1805. 
 
 GREAT God ! with reverence I draw near, 
 
 And bow before thy throne, 
 Vouchsafe to bend a gracious ear, 
 
 Whilst I my griefs make known. 
 Maternal love awakes my fears, 
 Maternal love excites my tears, 
 To thee I fly for succour, Lord, 
 For who, but Thou, can help afford ? 
 
 O Let me not in vain implore 
 
 Thy kind, thy healing aid, 
 But now let thy Almighty pow'r 
 
 Be for my help display'd : 
 
98 
 
 O hear a widow'd mother's pray'r. 
 
 My Infant's life in pity spare, 
 Preserve my child, his sickness heal, 
 Compassionate the grief I feel. 
 With pitying eye his suff'rings view. 
 
 His agonies severe :* 
 Now, while I for thy mercy sue, 
 
 For his relief appear : 
 O thou who art the widow's friend, 
 In mercy to my aid descend, 
 Now speak the sweet reviving word, 
 " Thy prayer is heard, thy child's restor'd. 
 
 But if (for well thou knowst, O Lord) 
 
 His future life would be, 
 Such as by thee would be abhorr'd, 
 
 A life of infamy : 
 
 * The Infant was at this time afflicted with a most excruciat- 
 ing pain in his head editor. 
 
99 
 
 If he thy sacred laws would slight, 
 And in the paths of vice delight, 
 O save him from this dreadful doom, 
 And snatch him from the ills to come ! 
 
 Keenly indeed my heart will feel 
 
 The separating blow, 
 Yet, Lord, thy grace my wounds can heal, 
 
 Can soften every woe ; 
 From thee I did my child receive, 
 To thee that dear lov'd child I give, 
 The pray'r my soul would now make known, 
 Is, " not my will, but thine be done," 
 
 Be life, or death, ordain'd his lot, 
 
 I am, O Lord, resign'd, 
 Nor would I breathe a murm'ring thought 
 
 At aught by thee assign'd ; 
 
100 
 
 Though Nature mourns, yet Grace shall rise 
 And view my child in yonder skies, 
 There, when the storms of life are o'er. 
 Grant we may meet to part no more. 
 
101 
 
 TO MRS. P , NORTH STREET. 
 
 HOW oft, my dearest friend, your happy state 
 
 Recalls past images of bliss to view, 
 When I enjoy'd felicity as great, 
 
 As that, my Anna, now possess'd by you! 
 
 Like yours, my days once glided smoothly on, 
 No soul-corroding grief prey'd oft my breast ; 
 
 Now, sad reverse, those peaceful days are gone, 
 Remembrance only tells, I once was blest ! 
 
 Through yonder groves, to catch the cooling breeze 
 
 Of ev'ning mild, we oft were wont to stray, 
 
 Mark where the moon-beams glitter thro' the trees, 
 
 Or on the water's trembling surface play ! 
 I 2 
 
102 
 
 With what delight our raptur'd eyes survey'd 
 Yon azure vault, where worlds unnumber'd roll 
 
 And our united adoration paid 
 To Him whose arm sustains the wond'rous whole 
 
 
 But now, these scenes which once could give delight, 
 Though still their matchless glories are the same, 
 
 In vain present their beauties to my sight, 
 And court the notice of mine eyes in vain. 
 
 No longer Richardson this pleasure shares, 
 And all without him seems a dreary void ; 
 
 The world appears a wilderness of cares, 
 My every plan of happiness destroy'd ! 
 
 You too, my Anna, when your sand is run, 
 Must quit the object of your tend'rest love, 
 
 Or else with tears bedew a husband's urn, 
 And all a widow'd mother's anguish prove. 
 
103 
 
 If such your lot, O may that gracious God 
 
 Who makes the Widow his peculiar care, 
 Support you under his chastising rod, 
 
 Until the perfect joys of heav'n you share, 
 
104 
 THE WIDOW : 
 
 IMITATED 
 
 From a Piece of Mr* Montgomery's of Sheffield. 
 
 WHAT murm'ring sounds are those I hear 
 
 Which, floating on the dying breeze, 
 Bespeak some thoughtful wand'rer near ? 
 
 Again ! what mournful notes are these ? 
 'Tis the lone Widow's plaintive moan 
 
 Resounding through the solemn shade, 
 She comes to seek the humble stone 
 
 That tells her, where her love was laid : 
 On the fresh grave she turns her eyes, 
 Where all that was her treasure lies : 
 Not for herself alone her sorows flow, 
 A Mother's love augments the Widow's woe ! 
 
105 
 
 The Infant, cradled on her breast, 
 
 Unconscious of its Mother's woe, 
 Enjoys the sweets of tranquil rest 
 
 Nor feels the winds that round him blow. 
 With soften'd eye the Mother views 
 
 That countenance, so mild, so fair, 
 And her fond fancy loves to muse ; 
 
 On the dear form reflected there, 
 But soon she staits with anguish wild 
 As gazing on her sleeping child 
 She sees his Father's image shine confest, 
 And clasps him closer to her throbbing breast. 
 
 The Babe awaking, lifts his head 
 
 And wonders why his Mother weeps.... 
 
 He knows not, in that lowly bed, 
 Beneath that turf, his Father sleeps ! 
 
 Each sportive art he vainly tries 
 Some fond endearment to obtain, 
 
106 
 
 To catch the notice of her eyes, 
 
 And see her smile on him again : 
 She heeds him not, her swelling breast 
 By all a Widow's grief oppress'd, 
 While the big tears flow down her faded cheek, 
 And piercing groans, her heartfelt anguish speak, 
 
 The winds that whistle o'er her head, 
 
 The rustling leaves that round her fall, 
 The gloom of nights approaching shade, 
 
 Conspire the wand'rer to appal : 
 Then Memory, too officious, tells 
 
 Of pleasures, now for ever flown, 
 Still on the dear remembrance dwells, 
 
 Till Reason totters on her throne : 
 Ah ! then, what horrors shake her soul ! 
 What clouds of darkness round her roll ! 
 With frantic mien she seeks the darkest shades, 
 And wild Despair, her trembling frame invadea- 
 
107 
 
 Her weeping Babe affrighted clings 
 
 Around her neck ; his plaintive cries 
 Unloosens all the tender springs, 
 
 Bids each maternal feeling rise. 
 In him she sooths her wounded mind, 
 
 She feels her grief's excess reprov'd, 
 Views the sweet pledge still left behind, 
 
 The image of the saint she lov'd. 
 Though of her dearest hopes bereft, 
 Yet, thankful for the treasure left, 
 She bends to Heav'n with gratitude sincere, 
 And learns to trust, be patient, and revere.... 
 
 For lo ! descending from the skies, 
 
 In robes of orient light array'd, 
 Appears, to glad her wond'ring eyes, 
 
 Religion ; her reviving aid 
 Dispels the clouds drawn by Despair, 
 
 A brighter scene unfolds to v iew, 
 
108 
 
 Bids her on God repose her care, 
 
 Nor seek her sorrows to renew : 
 She points her to yon realms above 
 Where dwells the spirit of her love, 
 Instructs her how to bear the chast'ning rod, 
 And in Affliction's furnace, glorify her God. 
 
 
109 
 
 ON THE ANNIVERSARY OF OUR MAR- 
 RIAGE, OCTOBER 31, 1805. 
 
 • 
 
 THREE fleeting years have past, since on this day 
 To Richardson my willing hand I gave ; 
 
 Ere two were gone, I mournM his breathless clay, 
 And saw him laid in yonder silent grave. 
 
 Alas ! how quickly was my sun o'ercast, 
 
 Soon night's dark shade obscur'd his golden beams ; 
 How all my smiling prospacts prov'd at last 
 As transient as the morning's airy dreams ! 
 
 Ah ! why, too faithful Memory ! dost thou tell 
 Of scenes, which serve but to increase my pain, 
 
 Why on his varied excellencies dwell, 
 
 And make me feel the parting pang again ? 
 
 K 
 
110 
 
 Come meek-ey'd Resignation, to my aid, 
 Suppress the rising sigh, the gushing tear, 
 
 Let thy mild influence my soul pervade, 
 
 Compose my griefs, my drooping spirits cheer : 
 
 Come, humble Faith, and to my longing eyes 
 Unfold the joys which happy spirits prove, 
 
 That I may strive to win the glorious prize, 
 And join with them to sing a Saviour's love. 
 
 Come, cheering Hope, and cast within the vail 
 Thy anchor stedfast and for ever sure, 
 
 The promise of my Lord shall never fail, 
 " Blessed are they that to the end endure." 
 
 Come, holy Love, possess this heart of mine, 
 From all tormenting cares my mind release, 
 
 And fit me for those realms of bliss divine, 
 
 Where Love shall reign when Faith and Hope shall 
 cease. 
 
Ill 
 
 ON BEING SLIGHTED 
 BY SOME WHO HAD PROFESSED LASTING FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 FRIENDSHIP ! thou oft abused name, 
 How seldom is thy sacred flame 
 
 By its professors known ; 
 Awhile they seem to be sincere, 
 But if Adversity appear, 
 
 How soon their love is gone ! 
 
 When prosp'rous fortune smil'd around, 
 A friend in ev'ry face I found, 
 
 Who seem'd devoid of art ; 
 By fair appearances deceiv'd, 
 Their friendship I sincere believ'd, 
 
 And plac'd them in my heart. 
 
112 
 
 But when Adversity drew near 
 With aspect rugged and severe, 
 
 And seiz'd me as her prey ; 
 When Sorrow pierc'd my widow'd breast, 
 And adverse storms my soul oppress'd, 
 
 With anguish and dismay ; 
 
 When sinking underneath the blow, 
 Which laid my earthly comforts low, 
 
 I sought relief to find 
 From those, who still to me were dear ; 
 Too soon 1 found what seem'd sincere, 
 
 Was wav'ring as the wind. 
 
 ?Tis in Affliction's dreary hour, 
 
 That Friendship's lenient hand should pour 
 
 The salutary balm, 
 Which in affection may be found 
 Of pow'r to heal the deepest wound, 
 
 To make the tempest calm. 
 
113 
 
 But ah ! how little have ye known 
 Of Friendship, who could thus disown 
 
 The victim of distress ; 
 Could leave the mind by anguish torn, 
 In lonely misery to mourn 
 
 Past scenes of happiness. 
 
 Their alter' d manners I essay, 
 With cool indifference to repay, 
 
 But vain the attempt is found, 
 The dear delusion cherish'd long, 
 Has every tender feeling wrung, 
 
 And open'd every wound. 
 
 Yet am I not of all bereft, 
 
 A little remnant yet is left, 
 
 Who still unchang'd remain ; 
 
 Whose heartsVith kind compassion glow, 
 
 Who sympathize in ever}' woe, 
 
 And soften every pain. 
 K2 
 
114 
 
 O ye whose fost'ring bosoms melt, 
 At sorrows by another felt, 
 
 Ye friends so firm and true ; 
 So long as Memory holds her seat, 
 My heart shall never cease to beat 
 
 With grateful love for you. 
 
 But chief, to Him who bade your souls, 
 Responsive beat at Pity's calls, 
 
 My highest praise be given ; 
 And may the friendship now so sweet, 
 Be, when around his throne we meet, 
 
 Renew'd again in Heaven ! 
 
115 
 
 ODE 
 
 ON VISITING THE RETREAT, 
 
 NEAR YORK; 
 
 A House erected by the Society of Friends, for the reception of 
 Insane Persons. 
 
 HAIL, to these tranquil shades, this calm retreat, 
 
 Scenes sacred to the children of Despair ! 
 Here mild Benevolence has fix'd her seat, 
 And here, the social Virtues oft repair. 
 
 Compassion tries each soothing art, 
 And Sympathy, with pitying eye, 
 
 Pours balm into the bleeding heart, 
 And breathes the sorrowing sigh ; 
 
 Here modest Meekness dwells, and here 
 Humanity dispels each fear ; 
 Attentive, they by every method strive, 
 The glimmering spark of reason to revive. 
 
116 
 
 In safety here the maniac widely roves, 
 
 No curious eyes his wand'ring steps descry, 
 As swift he paces through these shady groves, 
 
 Or on the lasdscape casts his vacant eye. 
 Here Melancholy, pensive child, 
 
 Sits list'ning to the wood-lark's strains, 
 Or in sad accents, sweetly wild, 
 Of all her fancied woe complains. 
 That downcast look, that head reclin'd, 
 Those tresses waving with the wind, 
 The ruin of her lovely form, 
 Her dress neglected and forlorn, 
 All speak a mind by anguish torn.... 
 While oft beneath the spreading shade, 
 Of yonder weeping willow laid, 
 She weaves fresh garlands for her lover's head, 
 Then starts, and breathless listens for his well-known tread. 
 
117 
 
 ....Ye mourning relatives, suppress your fears, 
 For they whose fate, incessant you deplore, 
 Shall soon return to wipe away your tears, 
 
 And happiness again to you restore.... 
 For lo, to calm the tumult of the breast, 
 Which madness had too long possess'd ; 
 To chase away the fiend, Despair, 
 To clear the brow of gloomy Care ; 
 Bid pensive Melancholy cease to mourn, 
 Calm Reason re-assume her seat ; 
 Each intellectual power return, 
 Heaven bade this structure rise, and calPd it the Retreat. 
 
 v, 
 
118 
 
 THANKSGIVING 
 
 FOR THE RECOVERY OF MY SICK INFANT. 
 
 " CALL UPON ME IS THE TIME OF TROUBLE, SO WILL I HEAR 
 THEE, AND THOU SHALT PRAISE ME." PSALM L. 15. 
 
 BOW'D down beneath a load of grief, 
 
 Of sorrow and despair j 
 No friend on earth to give relief, 
 
 To God I made my pray'r : 
 The sorrows of my heart I spread, 
 
 Before his Mercy Seat ; 
 And all my secret woes displayed, 
 
 And cast them at his feet. 
 
119 
 
 I urg'd the promise of my Lord,. 
 
 " Ask and ye shall receive," 
 And mercy for my child implor'd, 
 
 Which he vouchsafe to give ; 
 He turn'd my sorrow into joy, 
 
 My mourning into praise, 
 Restor'd again my lovely boy, 
 
 And lengthened out his days. 
 
 The waves of sorrow o'er my head 
 
 In quick succession flow'd, 
 And every ray of hope seem ? d fled, 
 
 E'en as the morning cloud ; 
 But He who reigns above the skies, 
 
 Whom heavenly hosts adore, 
 Vouchsaf'd to hear a Parent's cries, 
 
 And bade me weep no more. 
 
120 
 
 From every danger He defends, 
 
 To Him my griefs are known, 
 He gives me kind and tender friends, 
 
 Who make these griefs their own : 
 They try each sympathizing art, 
 
 To heal my wounded breast, 
 And deeply in a grateful heart 
 
 Their kindness is imprest, 
 
 "What shall I render to the Lord 
 
 For all that he hath done, 
 His truth and mercy I'll record, 
 
 And make his goodness known. 
 Protected by Almighty love, 
 
 What more can I desire.... 
 But that my future life may prove 
 
 Such as his laws require ? 
 
121 
 
 SONNET TO MR. M R. 
 
 O WOULD the muse my feeble lays inspire, 
 
 And her celestial aid to me impart ; 
 Then might I boldly strike the sacred lyre, 
 
 And speak the grateful feelings of ray heart. 
 
 By you restored, my darling child I view, 
 
 For God vouchsafed to bless your gen'rous aid, 
 
 And mantling o'er his cheeks, Health's roseate hue 
 Repairs the ravages disease had made. 
 
 O may that God, who first inspir'd your breast 
 With soft compassion, be your constant guard ; 
 
 Long may you live to succour the distress'd, 
 A self-approving conscience your reward : 
 
 Till crown'd with years and honours, you remove 
 
 From earth to heaven, to praise Redeeming Love. 
 
 L 
 
122 
 
 ON MEETING ACCIDENTALLY WITH 
 SOME DRAWINGS, 
 
 COLOURED BY MY DEAR BROTHER. 
 
 THE hand which drew this sportive scene, 
 And bade these vivid colours bloom, 
 
 Which I, with mournful pleasure see, 
 Lies mould'ring in the silent tomb ! 
 
 But well this small remembrance brings, 
 His dear lov'd image to my mind ; 
 
 Again, that placid form I view, 
 
 Which spoke a heart, compos' d and kind : 
 
 And oft, while musing on his worth, 
 
 Soft stealing on my list'ning ear, 
 In accents, sweet as Angels breathe, 
 
 His well known voice I seem to hear* 
 
123 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF ADMIRAL NELSON. 
 
 NELSON, who oft has Britain's foes defy'd, 
 And o'er the seas maintain'd her sov'reign pow'r ; 
 
 Nelson, the scourge of France.. ..Britannia's pride, 
 Now yields to Death, near yonder hostile shore. 
 
 Long had he been our Country's proudest boast, 
 And bore the marks of many a well-fought day j 
 
 Long had he prov'd a bulwark to our coast, 
 No danger could his fearless soul dismay. 
 
 Oft had the laurel wreath adorn'd his brows, 
 But all his toils and conquests now are o'er; 
 
 See from his breast the crimson current flows, 
 He sinks ! he falls ! great Nelson is no more ! 
 
124 
 
 Scar'd by the sight, lo ! Victory veils her head, 
 And crown' d with cypress gains Britania's shores ; 
 
 Britannia mourns, her darling Hero dead, 
 
 And bath'd in tears her Nelson's loss deplores. 
 
 Illustrious Chief! still shall thy honour'd name 
 To British hearts, be ever held most dear ; 
 
 Remotest ages shall thy praise proclaim, 
 And Neleon's memory gratefully revere. 
 
 By thy example fir'd, new chiefs shall rise, 
 And taught by thee for aid divine implore ; 
 
 When shouts of victory rend the lofty skies, 
 By thee instructed, Heaven's great King adore. 
 
 Oft shall the seaman, when his toils are o'er, 
 Tell of the feats of war with honest pride ; 
 
 Relate the victory won on Nile's fam'd shore, 
 
 And boast, 'twas there he fought by Nelson's side. 
 
125 
 
 For thee the muse shall raise the lofty strain, 
 
 And twine for thee the fairest flow'rs that bloom ; 
 
 E'en I, the meanest of the tuneful train, 
 Would cast a simple flow'ret on thy tomb. 
 
 THE END. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 ELEGY on the Death of a tender Mother 23* 
 
 The Orphan's Prayer 26 
 
 Epitaph . 28 
 
 Prayer for Safety and Protection -29 
 
 Slegy on the Death of an only Brother 31 
 
 On Recovery from Sudden Illness 34 
 
 Address to Religion 36 
 
 On the Consolation to be derived from Religion .... 38 
 
 The Inquiry 41 
 
 Ode addressed to the Grey Coat School 45 
 
 Paraphrase of Matt. xi. 28 49 
 
 Written under great Doubt and Anxiety of Mind, 1801 . 52 
 
 Praise for the Blessings of the Gospel 54 
 
 A Valentine, a ddressed by the Author to A. B 56 
 
 A Valentine to R. R. written extempore 58 
 
 To an Acquaintance on her Marriage accompanied by 
 
 a small Present . . , 60 
 
 Elegy on the Death of Mrs. T. Withers, April, 1802. . . 62 
 Elegy on the Death of the late Dr. Robert Cappe . . . .66 
 Invitation to the Sacrament 69 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 On my Birth-day, March 5, 1803 73 
 
 Addressed during my own severe Illness, to the kindest of 
 
 Husbands 75 
 
 When threatened with an Invasion in the Summer of 1803. 77 
 Paraphrase written in my dear Husband's last Illness ... 79 
 
 After the Death of my dear Husband, 1804 82 
 
 To my Infant asleep 86 
 
 To my dearest Friend M. S , on her Birth-day . . . S9 
 
 He Sleeps, 1805 : . 92 
 
 Sonnet addressed to Mr. M r, June, 1805. . . . . .96 
 
 To Mrs P , North-street 101 
 
 The Widow 104 
 
 On the Anniversary of our Marriage, Oct. 31, 1805. . . 109 , 
 On being slighted by some who had professed lasting 
 
 Friendship Ill 
 
 Ode on visiting the Retreat, near York 115 
 
 Thanksgiving for the Recovery of my Sick Infant . . .118 
 
 Sonnet to Mr. M r 121 
 
 On meeting accidentally with some Drawings coloured by 
 
 my dear Brother 122 
 
 On the Death of Admiral Nelson 123 
 
r 
 
 
S HUH - • ■ 
 
 " IS '".-' 
 
 
 :