ADDRESS to Parents .... Gijborne 11,5 Addrefs to Poverty .... Anonymous 183 Addrefs to the Supreme Being . . . Gifborne 51 Tfo African Southey 24. Anna's Complaint . . . . , Afry. Moody 84 ^n Apologue jferningham 146 Apoftrophe to an Old Tret . . . Mrs. Smith 168 To an Afs, grazing in a Church-Yard . Anon, 71 The Battle of Blenheim . . ... Anon. 31 n two Beautiful Children at Play . . 174 On the Being of a God ...... Young 167 On the Birth of a Pojlhumous Child . . Burns 152 To a Boy having defrayed a Neft of Birds Anon. 167 Eurlefque of Horace's Otium Divos . . Morris 118 Cafimcr, Book 2 Heald 157 The Charms of Precedence .... Shevjlone 51 The Comforts of Religion Anon. i8> The Complaint An Elegy 1 29 Contentment, an Ep'ftle to a Friend . . 193 The Crows and the Wrens .... Pindar 35 Cruelty to Animals Cowper 116 Death's Final Conquejl Anon. 220 The Dead Beggar Mrs. Smith 195 The Death of Alico, an African Slave Edwards lOO On the Death of Sir Richard Arkiuright Anon. 137 On the Death of Franklin .... Hamley 30 On the Death of Goldfmith Woty 162 On the Death of Howard Aikin 153 On the Death of Dr. Kippis . . Miff Williams 219 On the Death of his Mother .... Thorn fun 1 1 a Qa. the Death of Thomjin , . . .'. Ct/liins 119 n the Deca\ of Humankind . . A///! Seward 135 On the Demifc of the Czarina, . . . D.Lewis i J- Defcripiion of 'an Aged Rujlic . . . Crabbe 20 Description of Haymaking .... Anmi. 6 Defcri ption of Lambs at Play , . Bloom fi,J,l 149 Dcte/lation of Slavery Cmv/'cr 40 Di/linfiion between the virtuous & wicked Glynn. Bo The Drum Scott 190 Economy Pindir 23 Effects of IV ar Anon. 102 E/fufion written by Moonlight .... - 33 An Elegiac Ode 66 Elegiac Stanzas . Bruce Elegy, defcribing the Sorrow, &c. . Shenfln Elegy en the African Slaves . . Elegy on the Death of a Daughter . Elegy on the Death of a young Bride Elegy on the Death of Sterne . Elegy on the Lofs of his Daughter . Elegy written among the Ruins, &c. Elegy Spring, 1796 . . . , . . Hacks 54 Elegy written in We/lminfler Abbey . . Anon. 152 Elegy written in a Wood Ridlake it ; 3 The Emigrant . Lrjk'ne 176 Epitaph, " Efcap'd the Gloom," ?c. . Anon. 16 Epitaph on Mrs. Robinfon Pratt 187 Epitaph on Sauntering Jack 6? Idle Joan Prior 303 Epitaph on the Tomb of Collins , . . Hayley 4^ Epitaph, " Othou rcmov'd," &c. . . Anon. 4.3 To the Evening Star Bidlake 136 The Evening Walk Mrs. Carter 86 Fatal E/cEls of Moniftic Seclufion . . Birch 62 On Finding a Strayed Child '. . . Mifs Da\; 507 The Fore/l Youth ' Gifiprne 188 A Fragment on the Lofs of ^Children T. Dibdin 128 To Friend/hip Oram 45 Giles Jollup and Sal!}' Green .... Lewis 68 The Goldfinch and the Linnet . Mrs. Barbauld 18,5 Goody Blake and Harry Gill .... Anon. 7 Hannah A Plaintive Tafc .... Soutlicy 67 On Hearing Village Bells after an Aljcr.ce Anon. 1 99 C v J The Hermit Beattie 23 1 The Hermit and his Dog Pratt 3 To her who will bejl remember tt . . . Avon. 142 Horatian Flulofopky Aihin 10 The Hue and Cry Hurdis 164 Human Life Anon. 105 Humanity 109 Hymn to Adver/ity Gray 60 Hymn on Creation .... Mrs. Barbauld 197 The Illumination . , . . . . Fawcett 122 A free Imitation from Catullus , . . Anon. 12 To an Infant at the .Breoft .... Rickman 142 Infcriptionfor a Riil . . . Bidlakc 37 liifcription for a Td~l:t Sauthey 159 An Invocation tn Truth Anon. 82 To the River Itchin Bowles 157 A Jen d' Efprit Mifs Daye 144 Julia, tr the Victim of Love . . Pindar 229 To a Lad\, curling and powdering, &c. Loicth 132 Led\ard's Praife of ITomcn . Mrs. Barbauld 53 To the Lilies of the Valley .... Bidiake 192 Lines by a Lady on feeing white Hairs. &c. Anon. 29 Lines on the Capture of General Ko/ciufio 108 Lines on the b'ftitution of a Sunday School 125 Lines to Mr Opie Mrs. Opie 106 Lines written in a Bower .... Morris 44 Lines written in a Gulden Scat . . . Anon. 196 Lodgings fur Single Gentlemen . . . Column 216 Madnefs Narrate 94 Man . . . . Anon. 81 Man was made to mourn Hums 63 Markoff. a Siberian Edugue .... Celtic 133 Mary h More Anon. 204 222 To the Memory of the Rev. Gilbert Waktfitld To the Memory of a Young Lady , . . Shaw 88 To Mini/ten Anon. 41 The Mijfries of War 48 The Modern Rake's Pro^rcfs . . . Hurdis 183 Monndy to the Memory of ChatCerton Mrs. (.'owley 227 Mor.fie.nr Tonfon .' ' Ta\lor 76 The Moral- : /l Mrs. Robin fon 148 A Moral Picture Arley 165 C vi ] A Morning Ramble Anon. 21 To a Mountain Daify - . Burns 174 Nature Anon, n-j Of a Nightingale , . ...... Pratt 199 The Nightingale and the Glow-Worm . Cowper 151 The Obligation on Mothers tofuck/e, &c. Rofcoe 223 Ode for the King's Birth-Day, 1781 Whitehead 2 Ode on Charity Dyer 38 Ode to Contemplation Mott 19 Ode to his Barn Pindar 147 Ode to the Moon D. Lewis 127 The Old Shepherd's Dog Pindar 12 The Orphan Boy's Tale .... Mrs. Opie 59 A Paraphraf; on Matthew, Chapter 6 Thonifon 99 Peace and Shepherd Anon. 158 Pen five Reflections 228 Philanthropy Darwin 58 Pindaric Ode to Science Dyer 121 Pity's Tear . Anon. 53 The Praife of Potatoes 46 Praifc of War Condemned 3-}. To the Primrofe Bidlahe 7 1 On Procrajlination Young 191 The Purfuit of Happinefs .... Andcrfon iji The Purfuit of Health Beloi 139 On Recovery from an IHnf.fi .... Collier 144 Reflections on Entering ACli'je Life . Cal~r:dge 56 Reflections on the Great . ... Mrs. Robin fin 83 Retirement . Beattie 113 To Mr. Samuel William Ryley . . . Smart f,o The Slaves, an Elegy .... Delia Crufca 160 Sonnet to Hope Mifs Williams i Sonntt, " How oft, in Reafon's Spite." Anon. 107 Sonnet on Burns ..... M'Js VSitliami 176 Sonnet to Life Konthh 5 The Splendid Shilling Philips 26 Stanzas. "Flyfwift," iSc. . Mrs. Robin fun 101 Stanzas to the Memory of Burns . . Anon, sot To Stella , , , , Jlull 196 t vii ] On the Stranger's Friend Society . . , RyLy 49 The Summer Day Anon. 1 10 The Superannuated Horfe to his Majler . 217 The Swallow and the Tortoife , Mrs, Barbauld 15 Thelamont and Almeria . . , , , Bidlake 13 Theodofius and Conjlantia .... Taylor 96 Tranjtation of an Hymn by Silkry Mifs Williams 73 Translation of Lines from a Prifoner . . Ibid. 38 Tranjlation of a PaJJage in Hefiod . Wakefield 172 Tranjlation of a Poem of Halter . . Anon. 17 Tranjtation of Stanzas againjl Ambition 17^ Tht Traveller Giftorne 154 The Traveller, or a Profpcft of Society Goldfmith. 206 The Traveller's Home Anon. 221 VerfcsprefentedtoaLadywithfomcViolcts Swift 87 Verfes written at the Clofe of the Year . Cowper 42 William and Margaret Anon. To Winter Ramler The Wintry Day Mrs. Robinfon TheWiJh Anon. The Wijh. To a Friend . . ... Lovell The Wounded Hu/ar , , , , . Campbell ISCELLANEOUS poetical GLEANINGS RESPECTABLE SOURCES SONNET TO HOPE. MISS WILLIAMS. OEver fkill'd to wear the form we love, To bid the fhapcs of fear and grief depart, Come, gentle Hope ! with one gay fmile, remove The Jailing fadnefs of an achinrr heart.: [ 2 J But come not glowing in the dazzling ia\ . Which once with dear illufion charm'd my ev O ! ftrew no more, fweet flatt'rer ! on my \vay', The flow'rs I fondly thought too bright to die Vifions lefs fair will iboth my penfive bieaft, That afks not happinels, but longs for nil. ODE for his MAJESTY 's BIRTH-DAY, 1781. WHITEHEAD. STILL does the rage of war prevail ? Still thirfts for blood tli' infatiate fpear ? Waft not. ye winds, tli' invidious tale, Nor let th' untutor'd nations hear, That paflion baffles reafon's boaded reign, And hall the peopled world is civili/'d in vain What are morals, what are laws ? What religion's lacred name ? Nor morals (often, nor religion awes ; Pure tho' the precepts flow, the actions are the fame. Revenge, and pride, and deadly hate, And av'rice, tainting deep the mind, With all the fury-fiends that wait, As ton'ring plagues, on human kind, When fhown in their 'own native light, In truth's clear mirror, heav'nly bright, Like real monfters rife ; But let illufion's pow'rful wand Transform, arrange the hideous band, They cheat us in difguife; We drefs their horrid forms in borrow'd rays, Then call them glory, and purfue the blaze. O blind to nature's focial plan, And Heav'n's indulgent end! Her kinder laws knit man to man, As brother and as friend. Nature, intent alone to blefs, Bids ftrife and difcord ceafe; ' : Her ways are ways of pleafantnefs, And all her paths are peace." tv'n this aufpicious day would wear A brighter face of joy fertile, And not one ruffling gale of care Difturb the halcyon fccne : [ 3 ] On lighter wings would zephyrs move, The fun with added luflre fiiine, Did Peace, defcending from above, Here fix her earthly fhrine : Here to the monarch's fondeft pray'r A iuft attention yield, And let him change the ("word of war For her protecting fhield. -- THE HERMIT AND HIS DOG. IX life's fair morn, I knew an aged fecr, Who fad and lonely pafs'd the joy'els year; Betray'd, heart-broken, from the world he ran, And fhunn'd (oh, dire extreme!) the face of man; Humbly he rear'd his !mt within the wood, Hermit his velt, a hermit's was his food. Xitch'd in fome corner of the gelid cave, Where chilling drops the rugged rockftone lavs, Hour after hour, the melancholy fage. Drop after drop to reckon, would engage The ling'riiig day ; and, trickling as they fell, A tear went with them to the narrow well. Then thus he moraliz'd, as flow it pnls'd, ' This brings me nearer Lucia than the laft ; And this, now itreaming from the eye," faici he. " O my lov'd child ! will bring me nearer thee." When firfl he roam'd, his dog, with anxious care, His wand'rings watch'd, as emulous to (hare ; In vain the faithful brute was bid to go, In vain the forrower fought a lonely woe. The hermit paus'd, th' attendant dog was near, Slept at his feet, and caught the tailing tear; Up rofe the hermit, up the dog would rife, And ev'ry way to win a inafter tries. " Then be it fo. Come, faithful fool," he faid; One pr.t encourag'd, a:id they fought the fhade. An unfrequented thicket foon they found, And both repos'd upon the leafy ground; Mellifluous murm'rir.gs told the fountains nigh, fountains which well a pilgrim's drink fupply; And thence by many a labyrinth it led, \Vherc ev'ry tree bcilow'd an ev'mnj bed. Skill'd in the chafe, the faithful creature brought Wliatc'er at morn or moonlight he had caught; This courfe the fage forbade. Feeling for all Had he, and mourn'd his fellow-creature's fall. " And why," (aid he, " mufl man fubfift by prey ? Why flop yon melting mufic on the fpray ? Why, when affail'd by hounds' and hunters' cry, Muft half the harmlefs race in terror fly ? Why mint we work of innocence the woe ? Still fhall this bofom throb, thefe eyes o'erflow. A heart too tender here trorn man retires, A heart that aches if but a wren expires." Thus liv'd the mailer good, the fefvant true, Till to its God the mailer's fpirit flew, Behde a fount, which daily water gave, Stooping to drink, the hermit found a grave ; All in the running ftream his garments Iprcacl, And dark, damp verdure ill conceal'd his head : Crouch'd in the water the iurvivor flood, Sick'ning with forrow, and rejecling food ; The faithful iervant, from that fatal day, Watch'd the lov'd corpie, and piteous pin'd away : His head upon his mailer's check was found, While the obflructed waters mourn'd around. WHILE venal crowds for worth'efs men engage, Who bafely promife what they'll not perform ; While Freedom's purchas'd, and vhile Faction's rage Rends England's peace with her ieptennial ftorm; Unaw'd bv pow'r. unfway'd by partial views, Deaf to the clam'rous ionr of public ilrife, Calmly contemplative, the private mule Marks the calamities of private life : Sees worth and wifdom daily fink a\vay, Sees, and laments them with a kind concern , E'en now to forrow yields the penhve lay. And drops a tear for genius and for Su-rne. C 5 ] O form'd to pleafe, to urge the focial figh, The gloomy hours of anguifh. to beguile, To temper humour with humanity, And melt the bofom, while you force the fmile ! Soon fhall thy works, the darts of flander itemm'd, By Wifdom cherifh d, and by Virtue priz'd, Be by Hypocrify alone condemn'd, By prudifh Ignorance alone defpis'd. For what is wifdom, what is virtue worth ? Hard-hearted fpleen and rigour to deftroy, To raife companion, call our feelings forth, And looth life's cares with inoflenhve joy. Let Folly's fons, to malice ever prone, Deem all thy labours vain caprice and whim, Benignity and Truth will ever own The gen'rous Toby and the faithful Trim. Grant, Decency may fometimes difcommend, And plead its outward barriers you ailault ; Maria's, woes and poor Le Ferre's end Make ample recompenie for ev'ry fault. Long, Gratitude thy mcm'ry fhall revere, Long as benevolence and virtue reign ; Pity thy monumental ftone fhall rear, And daily dew it with a tear humane. There Honour, Love, and Friend fhip fhall attend, Wait round thy filent afhcs as they fk-ep ; There Wit and Genius mouin their common friend, And Mirili, unpatroniz'd, fnall learn to weep. SONNET TO LIFE. BOOTHBY. WHAT art thoti, Life ? the fhadow of a dream : The paft and future dwell in thought alone; The prelent, ere we note its flight, is gone ! And ail ideal, vain, fantaltic ieein. Whence is thy fourcc ? and whither doft tbou tend ? So fhort thy period, and thy form fo frail ; Poor pris'ner, pent in death's lurrounding vale, Corn but to breathe, to fuffer, and to end, L 6 ] Why. fhadow ! bring'ft thou, on thy raven wai%. Dark trains of grief, and vifions of the night, Rather th?n graces rob'd in purple light, Elyfian flow'rs. and love's unclouded fpring ? Since lad or gay, whatever be thy theme, Death furely ends, at once, the dreamer and the dream. DESCRIPTION OF HAY-MAKING. FROM " BEWSEY," A TOEM. fee the mowers, to their half-done tafk. JL Early returning, jocund, o'er the grnfs That yefterday they cut : with ftone well ply'd, Bending, they whet the clear-refounding fteel ; And now in order plac'd, ftep after ftcp Slow following, with fuccefiive well-tim'd flrokes The fcythc the)- brandifh : falling at their feet, In fem'icircles wide, a mingled heap Of feedling ih!ks and flow'rs of various huts In wild confufion lies, to bloom no more. Meanwhile a num'rons train of men and boys, And country maidens, bearing in their hands The rural trophies, cheerfully begin Their pleafmg tifk, and f'catk-r far and wide, With airy to!s. the odorif 'rous hay ; Light burden ! While as now the climbing fun, In fplendour clad, pours forth his Hoping rays Stronger, the field is all a moving fcene Of gaiety and bufmefs, mirth and toil. Many the jokes, and frequent are the laughs, Enlivening their labour : on the cople Of yonder hedge, where gay the wild-rofe bloomSj Is laid the copious can, with needful ftore Of liquor fill'd, and covcr'd from the fight Of bufy flies. Full oft the heated i'.vahi Thither is feen to pace, and from the cup Firfl trkcs a''long, deep draught; then to the fair, Xot sfking. but who ft warm flufivd clset-ki Ix-tiay Hertiiirll:, now carrying, prefents the cup With awkward gallantry. Fatigued, the band Awhile repofe : the fun-burnt clown, robuit, Palls on his knee his modeft-looking fair, Pieai'd, and yet half afijam'd : ah! happy 'r.r, [ 7 ] Tf ironi her lips he gain at laft the ki(s, With many ftruggles won ; nor is e'en me, Thougli her di (order d locks, with many a irown, Now flic ad j lifts, displeas'd at heart to lofe The fragrant prize (he wifn'd not lo withhold. She fceks not to enfnare a captive train Of flaves, to grace the triumphs oi her eyes ; Nor, having won her lover's faithful heart, To leave him, proud-exulting in his pains. For him alone the riband gay is feen, On Sundays, ftreaming in her hat of itraw, Luring, at church, unwary eyes from pray'rs. Still near her through the field he firives to toil ; And oft. when unperceiv'd, they tell their love In fidelong glances : language fweet! that fpeaks, In iilence, more than all th' affefted fop, Practis'd in flatt'ry's arts, with oily tongue, Pours in his vainer fair's deluded ears. Here 'tis that Love bellows his pleafing joys, Unblended with his cares ; for here no fears Of rankling jealoufy difturb the breafl. He knows his maiden true, as fhe her fwain ; And fo fhall each be prov'd. for Hymen foon In bondage fweet (hall join their willing hands. Be kind, ye fouthern breezes ! blow not yet, Nor bid your train of gloomy clonds and fhow'rs, Unwelcome now, deform the tranquil fky ; But let the frequent wain, unflopp'd by rains, 'Clear the dry hay-field of its dufky piles ! GOODY BLAKE and HARRY GILL, Oil ! what's the matter ? what's the matter ? What is't that ails young Harry Gill, That evermore his teeth they chatter, Chatter, chatter, chatter flill ? Of waiftcoats Harry has no lack, Good duffle gray, and flannel fine ; He has a blanket on his back. And coats enough to fmothev nine. In March, December, and in July, 'Tis all the fame with Harry Gill : The neighbours tell, and tell you truly, His teeth they chafer, chatter hill. [ 8 ] At night, at morning, and at noon, 'Tis all the fame with Harry Gill ; Beneath the fun, beneath the moon, His teeth they chatter, chatter Hill. Young Harry was a lufly drover. And who fo flout of limb as he ? His cheeks were red as ruddy clover, His voice was like the voice of three. Auld goody Blake was old and poor, 111 fed flic was, and thinly clad ; And any man, who pafs'd her door, Might fee how poor a hut fhe had. All day fhe fpun in her poor dwelling, And then her three hours' work at night ! Alas ! 'twas hardly worth the telling, It would not pay for candle-light. This woman dwelt in Dorfetfhire ; Her hut was on a cold hill fide ; And in that country coals are dear, For they come far by wind and tide. By the fame fire, to boil their pottage, Two poor old dames, as I have known, Will often live in one finall cottage, But fhe, poor woman! dwelt alone. 'Twas well enough when fummer came, The long, warm, lightfome fummer day; Then at her door the canty dame Would fit, as any linnet gay. But when the ice our ftreams did fetter, Oh, then how her old bones would fhakc You would have laid, if you had met her, 'Twas a hard time for Goody Blake. Her ev'nings then were dull and dead ; Sad cafe it was, as you may think, For very cold to go to bed, And then for cold not flecp a wink. Oh, joy for her ! whene'er in winter The winds at night had made a rout, And fcatter'd many a lufly fplinter, And many a rotten bough about. Yet never had flic, well or fick, As ev'ry man, who knew her, favs, [ 9 ] A pile beforehand, wood or {lick, Enough to warm her for three days. Xow when the frofl was pafl enduring. And made her poor old bones to ache, Could any thing be more alluring Than an old hedge to Goody Blake ? And now and then, it mufl be faid, When her old bones were cold and chill, She left her fire, or left her bed, To feck the hedge of Harry Gill. Now Harry he had long fufpefted This treipafs of old Goody Blake, And vow'd that (he fhould be detected, And he on her would vengeance take. And oft from his warm fire he'd go, And to the fields his road would take ; And there at night, in froft and (now, He watch'd to feize old Goody Blake. And once behind a rick of barley, Thus looking out, did Harry (land ; The moon was full, and fhining clearly, And crifp with froll the flubborn land. He hears a noife he's all awake Again on tip-toe down the hill He lohly creeps 'Tis Goody Blake, She's at the hedge of Harry Gill. Right glad was he when he beheld her: Stick after (lick did Goody pull ; He flood behind a bufh of elder. Till fhe had fill'd her apron full. When with her load fhe turn'd about, The bye-road back again to take, He flarted forward with a fhout, And fprang upon poor Good)- Blake. And fiercely by the arm he took her, And by the arm he held her fail; And fiercely by the arm he fhook her, And cry'd, " I've caught you then at lall ?' Then Goody, who had nothing faid, Her bundle from her lap let fall ; A:;d, kneeling on the flicks, fhe pray'd To God, who is the judge of all. She pray'd, her wither'd hand uprearing, While Harry held her by the arm " God ! who art never out ot hearing, O may he never more be wnrm !" The cold, cold moon above her head, Thus on her knees did Goody pray; Young Harry heard what (he had laid, And icy-cold he turn'd away. He went complaining all the morrow, That he wa.s cold and very chill : His face was gloom, his heart was forrow, Alas, that day for Harry Gill! That day he wore a riding-coat, And not a whit the warmer he : Another was on Thursday brought, And ere the fabbath he had ihiee. 'Twas all in vain, a_'ufelcfs matter, And blankets were about him pinn'd; Yet (till his jaws and teeth they clatter, Like a loofe cafemeut in the wind. And Harry's flefh it fell away; And all, who fee him, fay, 'tis plain, That, live as long as live he may, He never will be warm again. No word to any man he utters, A-bed or up, to young or old ; But ever to himfelf he mutters, " Poor Harry Gill is very cold." A-bed or up, by night or day, His teeth thty chatter, chatter ftill. Now think, ye farmers all, I pray, Of Goody Blake and Harry Gi'lU HORATIAN PHILOSOPHY. FROM fcenes of tumult, noife, and flrife, And all the ills of public life ; From waiting at the great man's gate, Amid the flaves that (well his ftate ; From coxcomb poets and their verfes ; From itreets with chariots throng'd, and hearfes ; [ ] From rattling fpendthrifts and their guefts, And dull buffoons with fcurvy jells ; From faihion's whims, and folly's freaks; From fhouts by day, and nightly fkrieks ; O let me make a quick retreat, And feek in hafte my country lest; In filent fhades forgotten lie. And learn to live, before I die ! There, on the verdant turf reclin'd, By wifdom's rules compofe my mind ; My palTions ftill, correct my heart, And meliorate my better part : Quit idle hope and vain defire, And ceafc to gaze where fools admire : With fcorn the crowd profane behold F.nflav'd by fordid thiril of gold, Nor deign to bend at fuch a mrine. While prieil of Phoebus and the Xine. Nor would I fhun the ftudent's toil, But feed my lamp with Grecian oil. Sometimes, through Stoic walks fublime, Up the rough fteep of Virtue climb ; From philofophic heights look down, Nor heed if Fortune fmile or frov/n ; In Wifdom's mantle clofely furPd, Defy the tempefls of the world ; And, fcorning all that's not our own, Pli'ce ev'ry good in mind alone. Then, flidinjj to an eader plan, Put off the God. to be the Man ; Relolve the offer'd fweets to prove, Of focial bowls, gay (ports, and love ; Give froward life its childifli toy, Xor blufh to feel, and to enjoy. Yet ever, as. by humour led, Each path of life in turn I tread, Still to my full great maxim true, On Moderation fix my view ; Let her with tempering fway prefide O'er pleaiuiv's cup and learning's pride; And by her fage decrees o'cr-rule The dogmas of each iturdy fchool. Opinion thus may various play, While rtafon mines with fleady ray, And calls o'er all the fhifting fccno Her fober hue. and light iureii-.-. THE OLD SHEPHEP.D'S DOG. PINDAR. THE old fhepherd's dog, like his matter, \\'as gray ; His teeth all departed, and feeble his tongue ; Yet where'er Conn went, he was follow'd by Tray ; Thus happy through life did they hobble, along. When fatigued, on the grafs the fhepherd would lie, For n imp in the fun 'rnidft his (lumbers fo fweet, His faithful companion crawl'd conftantly nigh, Plac'd his head on his lap, or lay down at his feet. When winter was heard on the hill and the plain, And torrents delceuded, and cold was the wind. If Corin went forth 'midil the Uvnpefrs ?nd rain, Tray fcorn'd to be left in the chimney behind. At length in the flraw Tiny made his lart bed ; For vain againlt death is the ftoutell endeavour To lick Conn's hand he renr'd up his weak herd, Then fell back, clos'd his eyes, and, ah ! clos'd tl;eiii for ever. Xot long after Tray did the fhepherd remain, Who oft o'er his grave in true (orrow would bend ; And when dying, thus feebly was heard th.e poor (wain, " O ! buiy me, neighbours, bolide my old hiend. :j A FPvEE IMITATION" from CATULLUS. AS ionic fair flow'r, beneath a fott'ring Iky.- Sweet fav'rite object of the gard'ner's eve ! With jealous care is ftrongly fenc'd around, Secure from cattle, and the ploughfhare's wound : To Inds and lafles when this flow'r is fhown, Pleas'd they all wifh the lovely plant their own ; Snapp'd from its ft em it now neglected lies, Fade its warm tints, and ev'ry beauty dies; The lads and lallcs, who admir'd fi> late, Pafs the psle flow'ret. nor regard iis late. Thus a fair virgin, whom kind Heav'n approves. Whom friendfhip foflers. guards, directs, and jovts, Should fome curs'd fpoiler bl.iit her Ipotlels fame, Sinks the wan victim of remorie and fhame : No longer friends the fair with fondnefs eye ; The lads reject her. and the lalles fly. L '3 ] THELAMONT AND ALMERIA. FROM BIDLAKF.'s " SEA." NOW thrice three bright revolving funs had view V: Fond Thelamont to his Almeria join'd ; With rapture melting into fix'd eitecm ; Equal delight, and foul-exchanging blifs. So beam'd, fo fmil'd, fo parted cv'ry year! .Bright fhone a fummer's morn, when Thelamont Upon a placid iea fet iail ; intent, With baited hook, to tempt the finny tribe. Cruel delight! From native beds to drag The wounded fools, and fpoil their filv'ry kales And fpotted pride, writh'd on the tort'rous hook, In luff 'ranee dumb. O, be meek Mercy heard ! Thrice blels'd be he. who ever kindnefs mows To the poor brutal race : coniign'd, by him Who fh el tors all, to Rcafon's manly rule, And mild Humanity's more tender care. Thrice bleis'd be he ! Soft Pity, copious fhow'i Thy gracious dews upon his head ; refrcfh His tender heart, and glad his darkfome days ! H^ to Almeria firft his purpofe fpoke. She, meek and timid fair, by nature fearfu!, Jitit more through love, with look ineffable, Thus fpake : " Why try the dang'rous wave to-day .'" Oft have I fear'd fome dire mifhap, when thou. Upon the faithlefs main haft folace fought, Where unknown horror lurks, and hidden mares. This day is lacred to the rites of love ; This anriivcrfal of the happy year Since firft. our hands we join'd ; and mutual pled.'^'d Our laith. This happy day with me conlume ; With me, I pray, and with our little race." And then fhe Unn'd delighted looks to where Their roly infants, dew-drops of gay health. Spring buds of purple youth, fported around. To this, of: aniw'ring feelings raptur'd full, Though all the father, all the hufband role At once ; and tides o'erfiowing of rich joy Almoft his bofom burii. he anfwor made : ' Sweet fharer of my d.ivs ! partner of my bliis i Fear not. I leave thee for a little (pace ; A;:d long before brown night its (hades extends, Shall to thy aims return. Short ab fence makes [ '4 J True love more fweet." O blindnefs to the future ! That kindly veils (harp pain's perfpeftive ills ; Hides what no caution can avoid, or keeps From greater ills of choice ! Silent, deprefs'd, Almeria (at ; placid, though not content ; And forc'd a (mile that would confent have fpokcn, And wip'd in hafle a Healthful tear unleen, That fear had dropp'd upon her downcaft eye ; And check'd a figh that apprehenfion breath'd, Soft cs the fammcr ev'ning z.cphyr curls The crimfon bofom of the fleepy lake. Xow from the port th' impatient veftel (leers, And to the wanton gales the fwelling fails Their bofoms gave ; and gliding fwift before The frefh'ning breeze, that bru thing kifs'd the wave, The painted veffel danc'd, light, trim, and gay. With equal fpeetl the fhores receding flew, Till far into the azure main they gain'd. Deceitful mom ! why doft thou i'mile fo fair ? Shall nature be fo falfe ? Freih'ning. the breeze Swells to a gale; the (hifting gale a Monti ; That adverfe ioon forbade all hop'd return, And acccls to the wifh'd-for land deny'd. Alas, poor Thelamorit ! thy drifting bark Hies fait before the furious winds, that, mad And cruel, win;; thcc from thy fading home; The lov'd, the happy fpot, where wait thy ows, Thy dear delights, thy rofy fmiling babes ; The iofteft, fsveetefl partner of thy care. Xor ev'ning greets thee now with promis'd joy ; Xor infant fpons ; nor her kind arms,, that wrap Thee in the lap oi love ; the flow'ry bo\v'r, T!iat lliields from ev'ry blaft, from ev'ry pain. Far. far from thefe, and ev'ry foothing joy, Art thou to dreary, friendlefs night configu'd, And all the horrors of the rough, rude florm. The clofmg eve, meantime, with moifteu'd lids, Sunk low and fad on ocean's troubled bed, In fympathy of melancholy fate. On the iviuorfelefs main her anxious eye Ahneri?. c?.!t, where madncfs furious p'.ay'd, And through the thick'n'mg miil did fancy pnint, l.afl fiiend of grief, the veifel's diftant form, 'J'l.'at held the lord, the fharer of her heart. Her children oft 'O happy age! whom yet Hope e'er delights.) look'd thro' the dark'ning fcene, And in imagination's picture Jaw The bark, and hail'd their parent's blefs'd return : And made more keen Almcria's frantic woe, When e'en deceptive promife fail'd to cheat, And dull, blank difappointment coldly frown'd. Go wrap your fondling arms, ye fmiling babes ! Strain clo'e your tainting mother's breaft ! kils, kifs Away the tears ! that flowing fountains run, And rumgli: pity's itream with her full tide. She needs your ev'ry foothing art, your wiles, To mellow fharp di'.trefs ! for never more Shall fhe. fave in your fweetly-dimpled cheeks, That pi6bire f\veet remembrance of pail love, Th' unfading image of your lire behold. Laft, fancy fail'd, and crue! frowning night Deny'd e'en cheering hope ; and rolling (low, In pitchy darknefs wrapp'd the ruin'd kene. The SWALLOW and (he TORTOISE. MRS. BARBAUL3. ATortoife in a garden's bound, An ancient inmate of the place, Had left his winter-quarters under ground, And, with a fober pace, Was crawling o'er a iunny bed, And thruiling from his fhell his pretty toad-like heac'. Juft come from fea, a fwallow, As to and fro he nimbly flew, Beat our old racer hollow : At length he itopp'd direft in view, And fajd, ' Acquaintance, bnfk and gay, How have you fai'd this many a day ?" " Thank you ! (reply'd the clor aught <>t q-.iict ki;o\v. Far from the (cenes lltzl gave my being biith, Prom parents far. z:\ outcaft- of lln- ennh ! Ii> youtli's warm hours, ironi dch reitriction f\\-c Left to mylell in danir'rous liberty. L 18 ] Xow pale difeafc moots thro' my languid frams, And checks the- zeal for wifdom and for fame. Xow droops fond Hope, by Difappointment crofs'd ChiJl'd by neglect, each (anguine wifh is loft. O'er the weak mound ftern Ocean's billows ride, And waft dettruftion in with ev'ry tide; While Mars, dcfccnding from his crimfon car, Fans, with fierce hands, the kindling flames oi war. Her gentle aid let Confolation lend : All humsn evils haften to their end. The llorm abates at ev'ry guft it blows : Pali ills enhance the comforts of repofe. He who ne'er felt the preffure of diflrefs, Ne'er felt returning pleafurc's keen cxcefs. Time, who affliftion bore on rapid wing, My panting heart to happinefs may bring. I, on my native hills, may yet enhalc The purer influence of the ambient gale. Ah, fccnes of early joy! ah. much-lov'd fhades ! Soon may my footftcps tread your vernal glades. Ah ! fhould kind Ileav'n permit me to explore Your feats of ftill tranquillity once more ! E'en now, to Fancy's vifionary eye, Hope fhows the flntt'ring hour of tranfport nigh. Blue mines the ether, when the ftorm is part ; And calm a-pofe fucceeds to forrow's blaft. Flourifh, ye fcenes of ever-new delight! Wave wide your branches to my raptur'd fight! While, ne'er to roam again, my weary'd feet Seek the kind refuse of your calm retreat. The COMFORTS of RELIGION. OBlcfs'd Religion! heav'nly fair ! Thy kind, thy healing pow'r Can fwceten pain, alleviate care, And gild each gloomy hour. When difmal thoughts and boding fears The trembling heart invade. And all the face of nature wears A univerfal fhade; Thy facred dictates can afluage The tcnipeft of the loul : And ev'ry fear fhall lofe its rage At thy divine control. Through life's bewildcr'd, darkfome way, Thy hand unerring leads ; And o'er the path thy heav'nly ray A cheering luftrc (beds. When feeble rcafon, tir'd and blind, Sinks, hopclefs and afraid, Thou blefs'd fuppoiter of the mind ! How pow'rful is thy aid ! Oh ! let my heart confefs thy pow'r, And find thy fweet relief; To brighten cv'ry gloomy hour, And foftcn ev'iy grief. ODE TO CONTEMPLATION. MOTT. NOW cv'ning dim appears that much-lov'd hour Of fweet tranquillity and rural cafe : When far afield is heard The ploughman's fimple fong ; And from the bean-field fings the lab'ring bee, Warn'd homeward by the coming (hades of night, And dews that gently fall On ev'ry drooping flow'r. With Contemplation let me feck to dwell, In wild romantic vale, or ruin dark. Where the fwift-circling bat Hits in the twilight way. And oft, in fhecp-cote near, the pieafing found Of warning-bell is heard ; as Philomel, In Echo's mournful haunts, Sings her fad tale of woe. Or if, by mufing Mem'ry, fondly led To poor Matilda's turf of fading flow'rs, Meet me iu holy guife. O maid ! rcver'd bv tliofe [ 20 ] That veil her azure fphere, The wan moon dimly mines. But when drear winter faddens a!! the plain, And by the cheerful fire, at clofe of day, I hear the bleak winds mourn Around my reed-thatch'd hut ; The mufe my lonely hours fhall oft beguile : And thou, l\veet inaid ! the willing mind malt fto:\' With pity, meek content, And friendfhip's facred law. As night appears, big with the wintry ftorm, Then fhall the glimm'ring lamp, with cheering ray, Beam o'er the neighboring plain, Or mountain's lonely fide : For oft poor travellers, benighted, ftray Wide of the village path, at that dark hour, When not a watch-dog barks, No diilant fheep-bell founds. Or, ling'ring onward, fear the chafm's depth, CoHceal'cl by drifted fnow ; as the cold blaft Hov. Is through the leaflefs thorn, And windings of the Keep. DESCRIPTION of an AGED RUSTIC. CHARGE. NOR yet can time itfelf obtain for thefe, Life's latcft comforts, due refpeft and eafc ; For. yonder, fee that hoary fwain, whofe age C;m with no cares, except his own. engage; Who. propp'd on that n:de flaft", looks up to fee The bare arms broken from the with' ring tree : O.i which, a bo-,\ he climb'd the loftieft bough, Tii.-n his fir ft juv. but his fad emblem now. Tie once was chief in all the ruftic tr?.dc, 13 s fteadv hand the ftraighteft furrow made ; Full many a prize he won, and ftil! is proud T'> find the triumphs of his youth allow'd ; A tr;-n(ie'it nlealu-e fparklcs in his eyes. Ho heais and iiniles. then thinks again and figh; : For now he journeys to his grave in pain ; The rich difdain him ; nay. the poor difdain ; Alternate mafters now their flave command, And urge the efforts of his feeble hand ; Who, when his age attempts its tafk in vain, With ruthlefs taunts of lazy poor complain. Oft may you fee him, when he tends the fheep, His winter charge, beneath the hillock weep ; Oft hear him murmur to the winds that blow O'er his white locks, and bury them in fnow ; When, rous'd by rage, and mutt'ring in the morn, He mends the broken hedge with icy thorn. " Why do I live, when I defire to be At once from life and life's long labour free ? Like leaves in fpring, the young are blown away, Without the forrows of a flow decay ; I, like yon wither'd leaf, remain behind, Xipp'd by the froft. and fhiv'ring in the wind ; There it abides till younger buds come on, As I, now all my fellow fwains are gone ; Then, from the rifing generation thruft, it falls. like me. unnotic'd to the duft. The'e fruitful fields, thefe num'rors flocks I fee, An: others' gain, but killing cares to me; To me the children of my youth are lords, Slow in their gifts, but halty in their words; Wants of their own demand their care, and who Feeis his own want and fuccours others too ? A lonely, wretched man ! in pain I go, None need my help, and none relieve my wo ; Then let my bones beneath the turf be laid, And men forget the wretch they would not aid." A MORNING RAMBLE. MY orifons devoutly brcath'd to heav'n. Before th' increafing heat, or rifing gale, Has wholly dry'd the pearly diops awny, With dccpell fenfe of gratitude iniprefs'd. Forth let me halte, and wit!) a walk amule My leifure hours. Of two delightful paths, Oft with my ileps imprinted, which to choofe I hcfitatc. 1 , uncertain. Downward, this Divefts me to the bottom of the dale ; That, ftretch'd through roughed woodlands, upwards leads To where the heath, with fupcrr.ilious pride. The plain o'erlooks. Along the fide of each A riv'let murmurs. In the firlt, my limbs, Though able down the flope to pafs \vilh cafe, May deem the toil of re-afcending hard ; While, if exhauftc-d with the latter's height, Rcfrcfhrnrnt in returning they may find. Permit me, then, the latter to pumie. Nor think I walk in folitude. Each tree Prefents an old rcquaintance, and each bufh A friend, whofe bounty often hath regal 'd My ravifh'd fenfc-s with a rich perfume. T! e fame few objects long remain. I meet With fomething new each moment Lo ! this oak Supports a woodbine unobferv'd before. An infant ivy round another twines That bufli, with thorn impervious to the hand, A linnet's neft hath in its bofom gain'd. And. hark ! yon excavated trunk refounds With hum of bees: a colony, till now, Unnotic'd there. But plealure ev'ry change Beftows not. Who, with grief unmov'd, can fee Whnt ravages the cruel herds have made Among the lower boughs of yonder afh ? Not diftant far. another Rands, depriv'd Of all its fpreading honours, by the hand Of (ome unfeeling woodman. There his axe, Refiftlefs weapon ! to the ground hath hewn Tt e venerable monarch of the grove. Adieu, my ancient guardian ! It imparts A melancholy joy to recolleft How oft. beneath thy hofpitable fhndc, I thoughtlefs wont to loiter ; from the world, And all the cares of bufy life; abfolv'd. Thy fall not I alone regret : thy fall, In long-protracled melancholy drain, The dork-dove mourns; while, of their fav' rite tree lii-rc'St. the jay and cuckoo, chatt'ring loud. Arraign the. author of thine overthrow. Onward, the road continues ftill to wind, And I, within the limits of its track, My (teps confine. A fmooth inclofure no."-' J nu'afurc o'er, and now remove ahde [ =3 j The rambling fhoots of bramble, that oppoic My pafTage through a thicket. Here, a fold. And there, a fhcd for cattle, ftrikes mine eye. Before me often fhoots a timid hare ; Nor flart I feldom at the whirring flight Of partridge, on her brittle (tore furprisM. Meantime, on this fide, high above me, fweiis A rugged mountain, overgrown with wood ; The riv'let on the other hi awls along. Now, down a fair declivity of fa rut It babbki cheerful ; now, it foams o'er rocks, Fretful nnd difconlented. Deep conceal'd Beneath incumbent willows, and the boughs Of hazel, darkling, there its current flows ; And yonder, in a pure tranflucent pool, Diffulive fpreads, as of the level Ipot Knamour'd. Nigh the bank, with whifp'ring fount Sott figh the reeds; and fmiling. half immers'd, The water-lily, all fubmiffion, turns Her fpotiefs bofom as the gale directs. ECONOMY. ECONOMY'S a very ufeful broom, Yet fhou'd not ceafeleis hunt about the room, To catch each ftraggling pin to make a plum. Too oft, economy's an iron vice, That fqueezes e'en the little guts of mice, That peep with fearful eyes, and afk a crumb. Proper economy's a comely thing ; Good in a fubjeft better in a king; Yet. pufh'd too far. it dulls each finer feeling : Moft caiily inclin'd to make folks mean ; Inclines them, too, to villsny to lean. To ovcr-reachinj, perjury, and Healing. E'en when the heart fhould only think of grief, It creeps into the bofom like a thief. And fwallows up th' affections all fo mild \Vitnefs the Jewefs and her only child. Poor miftrefs I.evi had a lucklcls fun, Who, rufhing to obtain the forcmofi feat, In imitation of th' ambitious gveat, Hijrh from the gall'ry, ere the play begun, He fell all plump into the pit. Dead, in a minute, as a nit : In fhort, he broke his pretty Hebrew neck ; ludeecl, and very dreadful was the wreck ! The mother was diftrafted, raving, wild; Shriek'd, tore her hair, embrac'd and kifs'd her child . Afflicted ev'ry heart with grief around. Soon as the fhow'r of tears was fomewhat paft, And moderately cairn th' hyfteric blaft, She cait about her eyes in thought profound ; And being with a faving knowledge blefs'd, .She thus the playhoufe manager addrefs'd : l; Sher. I'm de moder of the poor Chew lad, Dat meet mifhfartin here fo bad Sher. I mu^s haf de milling back, you know. Afs Mofes haf nat fee the mow." But as for av'rice, 'tis the very devil ; The fount, alas! of ev'ry evil ; The cancer of the heait, the worft of ills ; Wherever fown, luxuriantly it thrives ; No flow'r of virtue near it lives Like aconite, where'er it fpreads, it kills. THE AFRICAN. OH ! lie is worn with toil ! the big drops run Down his dark cheek : hold, hold ihy me: cilef.s hand. Pale tyrant ! for, beneath thy hard command, O'erweary'd nature finks. The fcorching iun, As pitileis as proud Prolperity, Darts on him his full beams; gafping he lies, Arraigning, with his looks, the patient fkics, V.'hile that inhuman trader lifts oa hi^h The mangling fcourge. Oh. ye who. at your cafe Sip the blood-moiiten'd beverage ! thoughts iiki thefe Hsuly ye (corn : I thank thee. gracious God ! That I do let!, upon my cheek, the "low Of indignation, when, beneath the rod. A iable uvothcr writhes in i;!ent woe. t 5 ] ELEGY en the DEATH of Mifs H. TAYLOX, By her Father, JOHN TAYLOR, Efq. HOW vain the wifh of long-continuing joy, Form'd on the tranfient plealures of a day! How weak, that man fhould ferious toil employ, To relt his thought on clouds which fleet away ! As well from hence he may attempt to rife On eddying winds aloft, and proudly dare To bid the fiery meteor in the fkies Arreft its motion through the liquid air. Scarce hath fwift Time his laughing circle drawn, Of gay delufive years, to twenty-one, Ere all the light-blown bubbles of our dawn Vanifh, like dew drops from the morning fun. In manhood's courfe how artfully are thrown Succeeding lures of life, from flage to ftage t More firm in pvofpeft, but, when truly known, Frail as the playthings of our infant age ! Of human ties that bind us moft to earth, However various, 'tis by all agreed, If funk with fadnels, or if cheei'd by mirth, In either period friendfhip takes the lead. Happy their lot, whofe ever-feeking minds In this talfe world can gain a (mall fupply! Supremely fo the man who hourly finds, At home, its radiance beam from ev'ry eye ! This my pad life hath prov'd, and yet may prove, Save that my Harriet is no longer giv'n ! Her foul of friendfhip and her looks of love, Fled to their fource, have found a home in hcav'n. Alas ! reflection now alternate guides The mind, enfeebled, to each ditt 'rent theme; As bury'd joy. or living hope preiidcs, Till balmy {lumbers give this lenient dream : Methinks I fee, with fympathetic woe, Pale Sorrow in'. 1 ', ir.g from that hallow'd tomb, In fighs as mild as fuminer zephyrs blow, To breathe thcfe accents through the midnight gloom; 4 C 6 3 Mourner, approach! yon moon will light thy way, O'er fun'ral hillocks in the cyprefs giade; Theft- flowing eyes ihall catch her waning ray, And fhovv the flow'ry turf -where Han let's laid ! Eager I hafle, with dying voice, to fpeak This one memorial, as a truth fmcere : Her life ne'er caus'd a blufh upon her cheek, Nor drew, till gone, from this fond heart a tear. When Faith, defcending on a feraph's wing, Points out my progrels to a happier fhore; There the bright faint (The fakl) can welcome bring, And hail with rapture, " We (hall part no more.' THE SPLENDID SHILLING. " Sing, heavenly Mufe ! Things unattempted yet, in proTe or rhyme ;" A Shilling, Breaches, and Chimeras dire. H\PPY the man, who, void of cares and fir lit In (ilken or in leathern purfe retains A Splendid Shilling! He nor hears with pain New oyfters cry'd, nor fighs for cheerful ale : But with his friends, when nightly mifts arife, To Juniper's Magpyc. or Town Hall repairs; Where, mindlul of the nymph, whofe wanton eye Transfix'd his foul, and kindled atn'rous flames, Chloe, or Phillis, he each circling glafs Wifheth her health, and joy, and equal love. Meanwhile he fmokes, and laughs at merry tale, Or pun ambiguous, or conundrum quaint. But I, whom griping penury furrounds, And hunger, fure attendant upon want, With fcanty offals, and fmall p.cid tiff, (Wretched repail!) my meagre corfe iuftain : Then folitary walk, or doze at home In garret vile, and with a warming puff Regale chill'd fingers : or. from tube as black As winter chimney, or well polifh'd jet, Exhale Mundungus, ill-perfuming fcent; Not blacker tube, nor of a fhortcr lize, Smokes Cambro-Briton (vers'cl in pedigree, Sprang from Cadwallader and Arthur, kings 1'all famous in romantic tale} when he O'er many a craggy hill, and barren cliff, Upon a cargo of tam'd Ceftri.in cheefe, High over-fhadowing rides, vith a defign 'i'o vend his wares, or at th' Arvonian mart, Or Maridunum, or the ancient town Yclep'd Biechinia ; or where Vaga's ftream Encircles Ariconium, fruitful foil! Whence flow neftareous wines, that well may vie With Ivldiiic, betin, or renown'd Falern. Thus, while my joylcfs minutes tedious flow, With looks demure, and filent pace, a Dun, Horrible monitor ! hated by gods and men, To r.iy aerial citadel afccnds : W.Ji vocal heel thrice thund'ring at my gates, Vv'ith hideous accent thrice he calls; I know The voice ill-boding, and the folemn found. What fnould I do ? or whither turn ? Amaz'd, Confounded, to the dark recefs I fly Of wood-hole; Straight my bridling hairs creel: Through fudden fear; a chilly fweat bedews My fhudd'rir.g limbs, and (wonderful to tell!) My tongue forgets her faculty of fpeech ; So horrible he feevns ! His faded brow Entrcnch'd with many a frown, and conic beard, And fpreuding band, admired by modern faints, Difaft'rou;. r.c:s forebode: in his right hand Long fcrolls of paper folemnly he waves, With characlers end figures dire infcrib'd, Grievous to mortal eye.;; (ye gods, avert Such plagues from righteous men !) Behind him flalk Ar.-ther nioi'.iler. not unlike h'ur.lelf, Sr, lien of aiiji-ct. by the vulgar caii'd A Caichpole, whofe polluted hands the godj, Wit'.i force incredible, and magic charms, r.ill have eiuiu'o ; if he his ampie palm. i.hou!u liaply on iil-f?ted fhoulder lay Of debtor, llraigi't his bocv, to the touch Obft-quions fas-winiom knights were \vont;, To (nine inci-.anted caRle is co:;\vy'd, \'.'l , r.: '/r.tes impregnable, and coercive chains, In duraiTcc IlricL tUr;:in hiin. i'ii. in form Ui n-'oncv. i J &ILs kts the cartivc frcCi [ 18 ] Beware, ye debtors ! when ye walk beware, Be circumfpeft ; oft with in'fidious ken This caitiff eyes your fleps aloof, and oft Lies perdue in a nook or gloomy cave, Prompt to inchant fome inadvertent wretch With his unhallow'd touch. So (poets ling) Grimalkin, to domeflic vermin fworn An everlafting foe, with watchful eye Lies nightly brooding o'er a chinky gap, Protending her fell claws, to thoughtlefs mice Sure ruin. So her difembowel'd web Arachne in a hall or kitchen fpreads, Obvious to vagrant flics : fhe fecret flands Within her woven cell; the hummiug prey, Regardlefs of their fate, rufh n the toils Inextricable, nor will aught avail Their aits, or arms, or fhapes of lovely hue ; The wafp infidious, and the buzzing drone, And butterfly, proud of expanded wings Diftinft with gold, entangled in her (hares,} Ufelefs rcfiftancc make : with eager ftrides, She tow'ring flies to her expefted fpoils ; Then, with envenom'd jaws, the vital blood Drinks of reluctant foes, and to her cave Their bulky carcafes triumphant drags. So pafs my days. But when nocturnal fhades This world envelope, and th' inclement air Perfuades men to repel benumbing frofts With pleafant wines, and crackling blaze of wood Me, lonely fitting, nor the glimm'ring light Of make-weight candle, nor the joyous talk Of loving friend, delights; diftrefs'd. forlorn, Amidft the horrors of the tedious night, Darkling I figh, and feed with difmal thoughts My anxious mind ; or fometimes mournful verfc Indite, and fing of groves and myrtle fhades, Or defp*rate lady near a purling ftream, Or lover pendant on a willow tree. Meanwhile I labour with eternal drought, And refllefs wifh and rave ; my parched throat finds no relief, nor heavy eyes repolc : But if a (lumber haply does invade My weary limbs, my fancy's dill awake. Thoughtful of drink, and eager, in a uivam, Tipples imaginary pots of ale, In vain awake, I find the fettled third Still gnawing, and the pleafant phantom curfe. Thus do I live, from pleafure quite debarr'd. Nor tafle the fruits that the fun's genial rays Mature, John-apple, nor the downy peach, Nor walnut, in rough-furrow'd coat fecure, Nor medlar fruit, delicious in decay. Aftiirti'His great ! yet greater flill remain : My galligaikins, that have long withftood The winur's fury, and encroaching frofts, By time fubdu'd (what will not time fubdue !) An horrid chafm difcloie, with orifice Yv'ide, difcontinuous ; at which the winds, Earns and Aufler, and the dreadful force Of Boreas, that congeals the Cronian waves, Tumultuous enter with dire chilling blafts, Portending agues. Thus a well-fraught {hip, Long fail'd fecure, or through the ALgean deep, Or the Ionian, till cruizing near The Lilybean fhore, with hideous crufli On Scylla, or Charybdis, (dang'rous rocks ! She ftrikes rebounding ; whence the fhatter'd oak, So fierce a mock unable to withfland, Admits the lea : in at the gaping fide The crowding waves gum with impetuous race, KcliRlefs, overwhelming ! Horrors feize The mariners ; death in their eyes appears ; They itare. they lave, they pump, they fwear, they prav; (Vain efforts !) ftill the batt'ring waves rufh in, Implacable; till, delug'd by the foam, The fhip links found'ring in the vaft abyfs. LINES BY A LADY, On obfcrving fome White Hairs on her Lover's Head. THOU to whofe pov.-'r reluftantly we bend, Foe to life's airy dreams, relentlefs Time ! Alike the dread of lover and of friend, Why {tamp thy feal on manhood's rofy prime ? Already twining 'midfl my Thyrfis' hair The iho-.vy wreaths of a-re, the monuments oi" can Through all her forms, though nature owns thy fway, That boafted fway thou'lt here cxcit in vain ; To the lalt beam of life's declaims day, Thyrfis fhall view, unraov'd, tliy potent reign. Secure to pleafe, while goodnefs knows to charm, Fancy and taite delight, or fenfe and truth inform. Tyrant! when from that lip of crimfon glow, Swept by thy chilling wing, the role fhall fly : When thy rude fcythe indents his polifh'd brow, And quench'd is all the luftrc of his eye ; When ruthlefs age difperfes ev'ry grace, Each fmile that beams from that enchanting face- Then through her (lores fhall active Mcm'iy rove, Teaching each various charm to bloom anew, And ftill the raptur'd eye of faithful lave Shall bend on Thyrfis its delightful view. Still fhall he triumph with refiftlefs pow'r, Still rule the conquer'd heart to life's rcmotcft hour. On the DEATH of BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. WHILE nations mourn the day When Franklin wing'd his way Tar above earth's poor toils and creeping cares ; Say, fhall the plaintive lute, When Freedom calls, be mute, Nor flowly-folemn breathe its dirgeful airs ? The free-born fons of verfe Still love to deck the hearfe, Where reft the mighty guardians of mankind ; Nor fhall they, FRANKLIN, fear For thee a fhrine to rear, And hail with incenfe due thy hea'v'n-taught mind. The patriot paffing by Where thy cold allies lie, Shall fay, while manly tears bcdcw his face, " There fleeps the fage in peace, Who bade oppreffion ceafe, His country's friend, and friend of human race." By truth and virtue blefs'd, Simplicity (hail reil, In farrowing (Hence, o'er thy grave, and weep; And focial Love, with eyes Where uev/s of pity rife, Forlorn and fad, her vigils there fhall keep. Science, in accents mild, Shall praife her fav'rite child, Whofe foaring wifdom heav'n's own fire fubdu'd : And Freedom there ihall bend Her awful port, and fend Such genuine fighs, as blefs the wife and good. Yet not with thee decay'd Shall all her fpirit fade ; She moves impetuous as the whirlwind's breath; She lifts her light'ning fpear, And bids the nations hear Her voice, far-fhouting, " Liberty or Death'." THE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM. . IT w?s a fummer evening, Old Kafpar's work, was done; And he before his. cottage door Was fitting in the fun, And by him f ported on the green His little grandchild Wilhelmine. She fnw her brother Peterkin Roll lomething large and round, Th?t he befide the rivulet In playing there had found ; He came to afk what he had found, That was fo large, and frnooth, and round. Old Kafpar took it from the boy, Who ihiod expectant by; And then the old man fhook his head, And with a natural fiizh. Tis forrie poor fellow's fkull, faid he, M'ho tell in the great victory. [ 3* ] And often, when I go to plough, The ploughfhare turns them out ; For many thoufand men, (aid he, Were flain in the great viftory. Now tell us what 'twas all about, Young Feterkin he cries, And little Wilhelmine looks up With wonder-waiting eyes ; Now tell us all about the war, And what they kill'd each other for. It was the Englifh, Kafpar cry'd, That put the French to rout ; But what they kill'd each other for, I could not well make out. But ev'ry body faid, quoth he, That 'twas a famous viftory. My father liv'd at Blenheim then, Yon little flream hard by, They burnt his dwelling to the ground,. And he was forc'd to fly : So with his wife and child he fled, Nor had he where to reft his head. With fire and fword the country round Was wafted far and wide. And many a childing mother then, And new-born infant died. But things like that, you know, mufl be At every famous viftory. They fay it was a fhocking fight After the field was won, Tor many thoufand bodies here Lay rotting in the fun; But things like that, you know, muft be After a famous viftory. Great praife the duke of Mavlbro' won And our good prince Eugene. Why, 'twas a very wicked thing ! Said little Wilhelmine. Nay nay my little gill, quoth he, It was a famous vidlory. And every body prais'd the duke Who fuch a fight did win. t 33 ] But what good came of it at laft ? Quoth little Peterkm. Why, that I cannot tell, fald he, But 'twas a famous victory. EFFUSION. Written by Moonlight, upon a fequcKereefl, Adorn'd v.'iih virtue's peerkis crow:i : And wont, array'd in fimpier ve'l. To beam with luftre of thine own : Still let thy breait with rapture glow, But fpare a (igh for human woe. [ 39 J Nor is fo foft the voice of Mav, With all the-choir of tuneful fprirf. The f'mile that cm thy cheek is Seen, Befpeaks a paradilc within. Oh ! frill thy facred form difpby ; Near thee a,ba!m fhall ibrrow find ; Still, like the golden orb of day, Reign the warm friend of human kind! And let thine hand to all impart Fair emblems of an open heart. ELEGIAC STANZAS. N'OW fpring returns, but not to me returns The vernal joys my better years have known ; Dim in my breaft life's dying taper burns, And all the joys of life with health arc flown. Starting and fhiv'ring in th' inconftant wind, Meagre and pale, the gholt of what I was, Beneath fome Mailed tree I lie reclin'd, And count the hient moments as they pafs : The -winged moments whofe unftaying fpeed No art can flop, or in their courfe arm}.. Whole flight fhall fhortly count me with the derul, And lay me down in peace with them that reft. Oft morning dreams prefage approaching fate, And morning dreams, as poets tell, are true; Led by pale ghofhs, I enter death's dark gate, And bid the realms of light and life adieu. I hear the helplefs wail, the fhriek of wo;, I fee the muddy wave, the dreary more. The flug'jifti ftreams that flowly creep below, Where mortals vifit and return no more. Farewell, ye blooming fields, ye cheerful plains! Enough for me the church-yard's lonely mound, WrKrrt- inelancholy with fliil filence reigns, A:.d the rank grafs waves o'er the cheerlefs.sround. [ 40 ] Then let me wanckr at the clofe of eve, When fle<-p fits dewy on the lab'rer's eyes, Tl>e world and all its bufy follies leave, And talk with wifdom where my Daphnis lies. There let me fleep, forgotten, in the clay. When death fhall fhut thefe weary, aching eyes, Roll in the hopes of an eternal day, Till the long night is gone, and the laft morn arife. DETESTATION 1 OF SLAVERY. OH for a lodge in fome vaft wildernefs, Some boundlefs contiguity of fhade, Where rumour of oppreffion and deceit, Of unfuccefsful or fuccefsful war, Might never reach me more ! My ear is pain'd, My loul is Tick with ev'ry day's report Of wrong and outrage with which earth is fill'd. There is no flefh in man's obdurate heart, It does not feel for man. The natural bond Of brotherhood is fever'd as the flax, That falls afunder at the touch of fire. He finds his fellow guilty of a fkin Not colour'd like his own, and having pow'r T' inforce the wrong, for fuch a worthy caufe Dooms and devotes him as his lawful prey. Lands interfecled by a narrow frith Abhor each other. Mountains interpos'd Make enemies of nations who had elfe, Like kindred drops, been mingled into one. Thus man devotes his brother, and deitroys ; And worfe than all, and moil to be deplor'd, As human nature's broadeft, fouled blot, Chains him. and talks him, and exacls his fweat With ftripes, that mercy with a bleeding heart Weeps when fhe fees inflicled on a beaft. Then what is man ? And what man feeing this, And having human feelings, does not blufh And hang his head, to think hi in fell a man ? I would not have a flave to till my ground, To cany nit 1 , to fan me while 1 il-ep, And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth That finews bought and fold have ever earn'd ! No : dear as freedom is, and in my heart's Jufl eftimation priz'd above all price, I would much rather bs myieir the flave, And wear the bonds, than 'alien them on him ! \\'c have no (laves at home Then why abroad ? And they themfelves once ferry'd o'er the wave, That parts us. are emancipate and loos'd. Slaves cannot breathe in England ; if their lungs Receive our air. that moment tlvy are free, They touch our country, and their [hackles fall. Th?t's noble and befpeaks a nation proud And jealous of the bleffmg. Spread it then, And let it circulste through ev'iy vein Of all your empire. That where Britain's pow'r Is felt, mankind may feel her mercy too. TO MINISTERS. OYe who fill the throne of pow'r Who fpeak and millions mufl obey; Who reiocn the monarch;, ol the hour ; Who riie dictators of the day ; Think, while the trumpet's clam'rous brrrth Re-echoes through the regions round. \Vhat :cer.es oi agony and death Await the inharmonious found ! Oh! join not, then, with hafty rage, The tumults that are heard from far; But fbua the dc'.blating lia i\\\' h'jiy !])ell : Ai-.d 1:1 the el:-. it r.ii '.!:; :iu:ai g'-a:es dvvclU [ 46 ] Oh! blefs'd irradiation mild, To cheer us on our weary way, Whether through gloomy defarts wild, Or vales which fancy paints, \ve ftray ; For where each brilliant pointed beam extends, Th' eiTefts of vice no more dillurb the mind Illumin'd ; but fhe cheerly onward bends, With rapture, permanent as great, to find At thy pure cryital fount, without control, " The feaft of reaion, and the flow of foul." Scowling indignant round the fccne, Her devious tracks full fraught with woe, Misfortune moves with pallid mien Around her vcnom'd fhafts to throw ; And where fhe moves will Friendfhip onward prefs, With pity's tear foft trembling in her eye. To foothe the ruffling gales of grief, and lilefs The dark'ning gloom with rays of conftancy; Kindly the lengthen'd roll of ills to fhare; At laft, to fleal the Iting from heart-corroding care. So when the tempeft-driven car Old Winter mounts, with rapid pace, Around to fpread deftruftive war, O'er nature's animated fpacc ; Haply foft peering 'midft fome fnow-fring'd vale, An ever-green may charm the wand'rer's eye, That braves the fury of the pafTing gale, Till on its bloom the fummer's breath fhall figh ; Waving its green leaves in the funfhine hour, That withet'd not, affail'd by winter's ruthlcfs pow'r, THE PRAISE OF POTATOES, A BURLESQUE. HAIL, rare potatoes ! hot or cold, all hail ! O quickly come, mine appetite's delight! Whether, in oven's fiery concave clos'd, By baker's art delicious thou'rt embrown'il, While rills of purple gravy from the pores Of mighty beef impiove the lufcious fare; Whether the dame of culinary (kill Have rudely fcalp'd thee o'er, and to the r?7c [ 47 ] Of \v-rring elements confign thee deep Beneath the cope of air-excluding lid In humid durance plung'd ; or when with {leaks Of marbled vein, from rump of flail-fed fleer Difparted late fiic'd in the mallow pan I view thee kindly ftrew'd, how joys my heart! How iL'.fh with eager glance my longing eyes ! Or in the tedious eve when nipping fro it Reigns potent, 'mid the fmould'ring embers roaft (From fubterranean {lore 'elected) thoie Of pmpleft fixe rotund, of native coat Yet unbcre.fl and if my homely board, Penurious, add but few lalubrious grains Of humble fdt, I blefs the cheap repaft ! But chiefly come at noon-tide hunger's call, "U'hen from th' ebullient pot your mealy tribe, Vv'ith r.appieft srt concoft. profufely pours ; And l;e the mafs with butter's plenteous aid To rich commence wrought: nor, oh! withhold 1 he pepper's pungent pow'r. of grateful glow EentHcent; lelt iny iniatiate claim, "Ver.tofe and wal'iy, cauie the twinging gripe Of colic pang abdominal ! And here Need I relate how ;'when for dice I flight Thy rival roots and poignant fauces rare, Crowird with exotic nrme) my humble choice, Mock'd with rude inlult. wakes the latent ipark Of witling's fue a feeble glow-worm rav, That beams, not burns. Nor feels my injur'cl tafle (Tafte undeprav'd bv fafhion's varying art) Alone the (bait; but perioii, tortune. tame; All. all. invidious icann'd, with fneer malign And icoir faicallic. In thcpudding's praifo Lot oth.L-v.s rant ioq-ascious I defpife The doi.giiy model for my fav'rke food. Give me imt this, ye gods ! fcornfi:! I pals Each celebrated iliop (IViUianis or Birch, Or h.. 1 of 15:-!gic fame idol iup:x;:ie Of city-hiiiit in city-hall ador'd, 3!v mr)rtals, llcjjhiuii highij wliere brittle puffs Multnnguhr with cuftards. r;ikc-s. ana c;eams, And l::c: arc elect, or who arc cloom'd to v.-oe, None ever came from thence to let us Yet if a inortal may his judgment lend. Sure he is rijht who is the Stranger's 1'riend. Until mufic charms the favage bread to fsothe, To (often rocks, u-mpefhioiis paflions firooth; Hnth mime charms to mi-It the flinty heart, And ci'iik- it tnke a fympsthetic pnrt; By gentle harmony the foul furpnfe, A;,d call it from its ltirki;v^-p>.ce. t!:e eves : If Inch the bh-ffed pow'r to ;nu!ic giv'n, 1 he fource mufi furely have its riio in ' j.iv'j!. 1 lie ftrains ot Orpheus drew from realms hi low His wife at Icait the tjoer.s -Viini it fo Jiiit now a nobler cau'e i-mpioys the lyre l- r 'd gives t'-e fpark, and angels fan the are; On ! rr:-y it blaze in ev'ry human h.eart. Till all fhr.ll join to take the Stranger's part : To ^ivc, forgive, al!';;a^e ancither's pain, Is hcav'jjly pi'olit and a certain r j;ain ; 'Tis hoarding riches where no iliievcs break in, Vv'here chanty is fr-id to cover fin. To this fort m'j':c kindly lends her nid ; And mr.y her labours doubly be repaid ! May crowds bellow ; let none his mite withhold ; 'Twill purchafe bleflmgs ten nay, twenty fold. TO MR. S. \V. RYLEY, On an Account of his Death appearing in the XcwfpapcM, IF the dire rumour fpread of numbers flain, Ar.ci others wounded, on th' embauied p. a! V.'c heave a liq;h, or drop the filent tear, Ai-.d v, i'.h t!;at \V'ar no more its front rr.av re^r Or if, by r.ccidej.t. it mould be rer>d. Ih rtY cjiCfm'd has made the Grate his bed; Thotifrh confe-ous ail the fa ire mi'it inidergo. [ 5* ] But fhoi'.Id we learn. fo;ne Mcnjier has defign'd, 15 y frrscrxs to wound the tender mind ; \V::h angrv eve. the vengehii look we give, And almoit tliii.k the wjttcli iV.iice fit to live. So fcit thy friends, wh-n FaMlvood dar'd to fprcad Its bale account, dtrlinng RVI.EY iu ..:./.' E-: fh^rt is f..i:'^hood's ieign- Indulgent Heav'n To thee. once more, the blefling Health has giv'n : Prolongs thy r.te t' eni'.-y a partner's love, To lee true friends, with imiies. thy /fer^r approve Sr-^iies that increa'.e. rs '.!:ev peruie the plan. M'.hich pleads tb.e cauf; of luff 'ring iiijur'd Man! Ii.rcnt on thi' Oh, mav thy ioys abound, And. future /chtmts with happine r s be crown'd ! Th' invidious ails ot Igno;<:nce hirgive Thou ~h Envy bid thee die a STANLEY bids thee LIVE ! ADDRESS to the SUPREME BEING. FATHER of earth ?nd heav'n, Almighty Lord, Whofe fpan confines infinity, whofe eye Surveys eternal a^es at a glance; How long, in crowding millions round thy throne, On balanc'd wings, while-fpirits pure thy nod Await, in bliis moft blefied when thoti deign'ft To fpeak thy mandate, and their iervice ule; How long fhall man, with cold reluctant heart. Ponder the truths thy word, thy works, declare? Yet here, ev'n here, in this apoilate vale, St:ll thou haft many fervants. But afar From thy abo*de, the vain, the felfifn throng On folly's glitt'ring ftream fecurely floats, Or toils through ilorms for honour, pow'r, or gold, Thou art not in their thoughts, nor in their ways. This to his pleafure turns, this to his f,irm, That to his merchandise. The globe rolls round; And i; : !! another and another fpting Beholds the cha r ers urge the blind purfuit, Xjarer. yet nearer, to In mi>v volume And hides the z< Meanwhile they feaft. they dance, the jocund harp Rings at their board ; the viol, tablet, horn, And Ir.te. fymphonious to the choral lay, Pour tne full tide of haimony : but Thee They flight, nor mark the wonders of thy hand ! Yet name they not thei r God ! What na'vu- they more Thy holy name the town, the country hears In cea'ele!s repetition; day and night, Bufinefs and leifurc, indigence and wealth, All hours, all places hear thv holy name. Strange to the h Mil. why dwells it on tne tongue ? To round a p -nod with ionoio'is cloie; To court the fool's rpplau'e. bv daring Thee; To tell the paf!::;g iinpi'l'e of furpriie; To vent the fumes of difappointc-d hope; To filcnce .doubt, that fear.:, th' uncertain tale; To iwell the cv'nin.g ror.r. of impious mirth. Vi'hen wine enchains the proud blafphemers jov; To arm the curie that tor a word, a look. To realms of endlefs v/oe a brother hulls Stamp'd wii.li thy image, nurtur'd by thy love. Father of all. yetfpare! Thine arm extend Jr. mercy, not in judgment: loo r e the ho::ds Thou or.l*.' ranll u..!ock ; bonds firai P.S il:.ks Of adamant, that gird the Haves of guilt. Pierce the deaf ear. the fightlels eye-oatl clean Te, The dull mind quicken, melt th' obdurate heart. Teach the awaken'd i ul. \vitii kindling joy, In all tnat air and earth and fea difplay, Tlirough each returning feaion. to beiiold Thee, the great Author: 'mid the changinc fcenes Aiui varying cares of lift-, bid her in Thee Fix her i'upreme regard, thy will explore, Kevcre thy counlels, thy beheits obey. PITY'S TEAR. WHAT falls fo fweet on fummer , n iow'r> As foft. lefrefning. tepid fnovv'rs ? ^'l.at bids the bud Us i\ve<-ts exhale Like ev'ning's mildly-whilp'ring ga'.e ? Yet Kveeter. more delicious far. And Ijridiiijr tliaii i.ne LirlghU'.t ilar. [ 53 ] Decking tne intellectual fphere, Js Pity's meek and balmy tear. What bids Defpair her arrows hide ? What checks affliction's tort'ring tide ? What heals the wour.d ot ir.ental pain, V> JI(3L iiCJii LM(_ VVU'U.U {) I j I i C : 1 Ul 1 Udlllj And footh.es the fev'rifh, throbbing brain? Wliat cainis the rage oi jealous pride, Arid bids the rending pang fubfide ? Lulling to re it diftrult and fear Yet not that pity form'd to give A pang which bids affliction live; Not pity that can, taunting. fhow Superior pride, untouch'd by woe : Not pity that, with haughty Imile, Confoles and murders all the while But pity which is form'd to prove The bond of faith the tcfl of love. LEDYARD'j PRAISE cf V/OMEX. MRS. 3ARBAULD. THROUH many a land and clime a ranger, With toilibme fteps I've held iny way, A lonely unprotected It ranger, To all the ilranger's ills a prey. While fleering thus my courfe precarious, My fortune {till has been to find Men's hearts and difpofuions various, But gentle Woman ever kind. Alive to ev'ry tender feeling, To deeds of mercy always prone; The wounds of pain and forrow healing, With foft companion's fweeteft tone. Form'd i'i benevolence of nature. Ot)li^':n^. mode'i. gay. and mild, Woman's the fame e:jdeaiiir^ c',e;.t;;re In courtly town and l'ava^,c wild. When parch'd with thivtt, with hun~::r wailed, K_-r iViendly hand refrefhment save; How (wee;, the coarfeft food has tr.ited ! What cordial in the limple wave ! K .r courteous looks, her v. 1 orris cartfling, Shed co-.-riort on the fainting ioul ; Vi'onian^ t!.o i'traiigcr's gen'ral blciung iron, iuiiiy India to the Pole. ELEGY SPRING. 1796. DELIGHTFUL Sprir.r. I tafre thy l^lmy ~!cs Prc2;:iaiit with life, mv ptnl'.ve iou! thcv cixcr; Creation fir. lies ; the woods, the hill?, the * ;ui.s, Hail I he gay morning of the daxvning yea:. Exvand. Vv; srroves. your renovated bloom : \Variiie. yeftreams; ye fweiling buds, ur.fold ; \Vaft all the plenty of your rich p^vf.iri'c ; And wave, ye florets, wave your lochs of gold. Rapt in the mnze of nature's boundlefs charms, I gR7.e infatiate, wonder, and admire; Ah ! how they foothe th' impafuon'd her.vt's alsnr.s, And wake to transport fhort the woc-iiruck lyro ! But foon the cor.traft blackens on the vitr.v. Thefe (cenes of beauty man inlculate mars; Clothes fmiling nature with a mournful hue, Blaits all her blooms, aad with her muiic jars. O ! might the moral fpring but once revilve Its infant bloffoms 'midlt the noon-tide blaze; Barbaric paffions lowring milts diilolve, While dawn'd pure reafon with 'crer.cr rays ! O fool ! to think it Winter, bleak and foul, There broods eternal hope creates in vain [ 55 ] Friiv.aflic for-, , v.'hich pleafe the cheated fci;l, Poor air-buiit fabrics of the poet's braiii. Sec life and hf?itli enliven all around, O'er lawns and woods the eve del ihted rov:s : "While pour an artlefs harmony oi iovn:: Flocks from the fields, and war'.>lcr i;orn ihe groves. Luxuriant verdure here adorns the plain; There the gray fallows and the filing team, The fa r rii's IK at ir.r.r,i:or>, ar:d the village fane. Whofe. mofs-clad tow'r reflects the lolar gleam, But. ah, ! while nature pours th' enliv'ning bri.at/i. Paints her inir iorms. and iprerds her t ream re here; O'er other fnores binck fweeps the cloud of death. Glares the red faulchicn, ana the mura'rous ipear. E'en now, perhaps, confronting armies meet, Loud roll the drums, the thund'ring can.-.ons roar, Rocks the dire field beneath unnumber'd feet, And Horror waves his locks bedropp'd with gore. Through dull in whirlwinds driv'n, ir.conftant feen, Thick flafh the fwords, the frequent victim falis; While o'er his mangled trunk, and ghaiily mien. Hofts trampling rufn, where mani:.c F^.ry calis. Say. foldier! fay, grim fpeftacle of pa ; ri! What fyrcn lur'd thee from thy pcr.cetul home; To leave thy poor, thy imall domeitic tr^in, For toils of arms, o'er billowy detps to roam. No beams of q'iory cheer thy haplefs lot, Thy name de f ccnds r.Jt to a future age, Impell'd to combat for th.ou know'lt not wliat, And urg'd to Slaughter by another's rage : Thy widow'd wife, thine orphan children weco, And beg their fcanty meal from door to door, While, gafh'd with wounds, thy limbs difhonour'd deep, And wafle and moulder on a foreign fhore. In vain, alas! we boaft of civil worth, And vaunt of virtue in religion's robe; If calm \ve view ambition iiluirig forth Her brood of icorpio:is. to infeit the globe. The bonds of nature ive afundcr part, Led by the blaze of paffion's faaguine ilar, [ 56 ] Peace on the lips, and murder in the heart, To fa v age, brutal, fell, infernal war. Hark ! a glad found my roving thought recalls, The diitant fheep-bell fills the quiv'riug breeze, The frr.de flow-deep'ning, o'er the land (cape falls! And veil'd in mill the dim horizon flees -As the poor fhepherd folds his fleecy rare, Lot.d chs'^nts the nightingale her ev'ning lay; S:ri on. !v,ect fongftrefs ! homeward I repair, Warrrd by thy requiem to the doling day. REFLECTIONS on er.tering ir.to ACTIVE LIFE. COLERIDGE. LOW was our pretty rot : our tailed rofe Peep'd at the chamber-window. We could hear (At fi!et:i noon, and eve. and early morn) The fea's faint muimiir : in the open air Our myrtles bloffonvd. and acrcfs the porch Thick jafmines t\\ in'd : the little landfcape round Was green and woody, and refrefh'd the eye. It was a fpot. which you might aptly call The VALLEY of Srciu.sio.v. Once I faw (Hallowing his fsbbath-day by quietnefs) A wealthy foil of Commerce faunter by. ERISTOWA'S citi/en : he paps'd. and look'd, With a pleas'd fadnefs. and gaz'd all around ; Then eyed our cottage, and ga/.ed round again. And laid, it was a llejjcd little place! And we were bleffed. Oft with patient ear Long-lift'ning to the viewlefs fkylark's note, (Viewlefs. or haply for a moment feen Gleaming on funny wing) in \vhifperM tones J foil! to my beloved, ' Such. f\\cci; g ; rl! Tl'.L- iriobtrufivc f>Micr of happinds : Unearthly mir.U.relfy! then only heard V,"i\-n the foul feeks to hear: when ill is hufh'd. Anc; tlx- heart Kiieiii !'' But t!>e time v. hen firfl, From th.-t lov,- dell, fteep in> the {!o 1; y mount I ciimb'd v, '{.( iH-ri!ous toil, and leach'd the top. [ 57 ] what a goodly fcene! Her: the bleak mount, The hare bleak mountain fpcckled thin with fheep ; Gray clouds that, (hallowing, fpot the funny fields; And river, now with bufhy rocks o'erbrow'd, Now winding bright and full with naked banks; And feats, and lawns, the abbey, and the wood, And cots, and hamlets, and faint city fpire: The chr.nnel then, the ifiands, and white fails, Dim coaft. and cioudiike hills, and fhorelefs ocean It iceni'd like Omniprefence ! God, methought. Had built him there a ter-ple ! The whole world M'ss i:-iaj'd in its vaft circumference. No v.'ifh. profun'd my overwhelmed heart : Jilei'i'd hour! it W2o a luxuiy tu be. A! 1 . q':iet deli ! d.-ar cot! and mount fublimc ! 1 \\T>.S conftrain'd to r.'i't von. Vv"r.s it ri^ht, V.'i.!!j mv urMii'.nber'd brethren toii'd a-ul bled, 1 .Kit I f'.'X'-K': cirerm awav the tr.iited h(;i:rs <->:; ro'.ek'al' ix-:'.s, pu;vp"r:ng the coward heart "".'. .t!: :c^liK-. r , nil too d:!:c:-itc for u'e ? ^^vc l :: is the icr.r. th^t from Pome HOWARD'S cyo Drops on the cheek of one he lifts from earth : A"d he that v/oiks :"; .'J/'od v. ith umnov'd fsc:, Docs it but hslf : he rhiiis me v.'h'Ie he alcU ; Mv bcncfatt'jr, i.nt ~v Brother n;an! V.'ho ;.cart. mid hand, i Ciiriit. toll th. tir'd tr.ind, ?.nd !ov Mv fpirit fhali revii": t!:ee. dear cot! Tr>y jji.Liin. s-:d thy vvir.dov.'-pccping rofi 1 , And myrt'._'s fearleJi ot the mild !er.-air, And I ihall ;; .', fond v.'lfhcsfwea abode! I 'none > but t C 58 ] PHILANTHROPY. WHEN erfl contagion, with mcphit'c breath. And wither'd famine urg'd the work of d^t!< ; Marfeilles' good bifhop. London's gen'ro<:s may'r, With food and faith, with medicine and with piav'r, .Rais'd the weak head, and ftay'd the parting figh,' Or with new life relum'd the fwimming eye. And now. Philanthropy, thy rays divine Dart round the globe from Zombi a to the Line; O'er each dark prifon plays the cheerful light, Like northern lullres o'er the vault of night. From realm to realm, with crofs or crcfcent crown'd, Wjiere'er mankind and mifery arc four.d, O'er burning fands, deep waves, or wilds of fnow, Thy HOWARD journeying feeks the hoafc of woe. Down many a winding iiep to dungeons dank, Where anguifh wails aloud, and fetters clank ; To caves beftrew'd with many a mould'nng bone, And cells, whofe echoes only learn to groan : Where no kind bars a whifp'ring friend difclofc, No fun-beam enters, and no zephyr blows, He treads, inemulous of fame or wealth, Profufe of toil, and prodigal of health ; With foft affuafive eloquence expands Pow'r's rigid heart, and opes his clenching hands ; Leads ftern-ey'd Juflice to the dark domains, If not to fever, to relax the chains ; Or guides awakeu'd Mercy through the gloom, And mows the prifon, filter to the tomb ! Gives to her babes the felf-devoted wife, To her fond hirfband liberty and life. The fpirits of the good, who bend from high, Wide o'er thefe earthly fcer.es, their partial eye, When firft, array'd in Virtue's piireit robe, They faw her HOWARD traverfmg the globe ; Saw round his brows her fun-like glory blaze In arrowy circles of unweary'd rays ; Miftook a mortal for an angel gueft, And afk'd what feraph-foot the earth imprefs'd. Onward he moves ! Difeafe and Death retire, And m.urm.'rin demons hate him, and- admlra. C 59 ] THE ORPHAN BOY'S TALE. MRS. O?IE. STAY, Lady (lay. for Mercy's fcke, And hear a helplefs orphan's tale : Ah! lure my looks limit pity wake 'Tis want that makes my cheek io pale. Yet I was once a mother's pride, And my brave father's hope and joy 1 But in the Nile's proud fight he died And I am now an orphan boy. Poor foolifh child, how pleas'd was I, When news of Nelfon's Vicl'ry came, Along the crowded ftrccts to fiy And fee the lighted windows flame! To force me home my mother fought She could not bear to fee my joy : Tor with my father's life 'twas bought And made me a poor orphan boy. Trie people's fhouts were long and loud ; My mother, fhuda'ring, clos'a her ears J " Rejoice, rejoice!' 1 full cry'u thecrowu Mv mother anfv/er'd with her tears. " Oh. why do tears flcal down your cheek.' Crv'd I, " while otners fhout with joy i' She kiis'd me; and in accents weak, is he cali'd me her poor orphan boy. " What is an orphan boy ?" I faid : When fuddenly fhe gafp'd for breath. And her eyes clcs'd ! I fhriek'd for aid : But, ah. her eyes were clos'd in death! My hardfhips f:nce I will not tel! : But now, no ir.ore a parent's jov, Ah, Lsdy! I have learnt too veil What 'tis to be an orphan boy. Oh. were I by your bounty fed! Nay, gentle Lads', do not chide : Truft rric, I mean to cam my bread-r The failor's oipiian boy has prid>-. 1IYMN T TO ADVERSITY. GRAY. DAUGHTER of Jove, relentlcf.s pow'r, Thou tair.er of the human i>! -uli, VVhofe iron fcourge and tort'ring hour The bad affright, aiflift the bett ; Bound in thy adamantine chain. The proud are taught to tafle of pain ; And purple tyrants vainly groan With pangs unfelt before, unpity'd and alone. When firil thy fire to fend on cai'i'i Virtue, his darling child, deiignV:, To dice lie gave the heav'nly birth. And bade t!:ee form her infai't mind. Stern, rugged nr.rle! thy rigid lore With patience many a year fne bore : What forrow was thou tnd'u her know, And from her own fhe learnt to melt at other;, v/o Scar'd at thy frown terrific fly Self-pleanng Folly's idle broo;!, Wild Laughter. No'ife, and tho;:ghtlcfs Joy; And leave us lei (me t.o be good. Light they tufper'e, and with them go The fummer friend, the fiati'rin^ foe ; By vain Profperity receiv'd, To her they vow their truth, and are r.gain belie v Wifdom in fable garb array'd, Immers'd in rapt'rous thought profound, And Melancholy, fila:i maid, With leaden eye that loves the ground-, Still on thy foiemn fteps att'-:ul ; Warm Charity, the gen'r?.! friend, With juftice to herfeif fevere, Aud Pity dropping ibft the fadly-pkafinrj tear. [ 6, ] O'- ;-?r.tly on t'jy fr.pplinnt's head, dc's, In)- thy chriffnin.; hcnd ; X' N ' .! t'.'.v G.vr-on tenors cind, ). circled vif'n tre veii:^i'u! band, '.' '. IN ti:;' :!np''-;'S ti:OU sit fc <.;'.'} ;h t ; -tr-.;''vi!ir volcj. a:id thivil'nin^ mien, fi-nn bc^.i,;: 1 ., O jrocldofs. \vjsr, :'!.; aiildvT '.nll.'onco impart; 11 v -pbiloiopbic tfoin be tl.ore To fortcii, not to wound my heart. 1 ':j ^\"n'ror.s Ipnrk extinft revive, 'j'vfc'i n;e 10 !o> ^ ?nd to forgive ; i ; \'.vt r.iy o\vu detects to fcr.n, \\ I..:; othi-ri a;c to iccl, and knov.- ir-yTeir r. man. Th: CHARMS of PRECEDENCE. SHENSTOXE. " C TH, v.-ill-you plerfc to walk before?" O i- No. ;>:v.v !ir, you are next the door." L'pon ir.iiic ho:io'ir, I'll iu>t itir " ' Mr. I'm a: i'.cnie; coni.c! r. {\ r " *' Exculf iriO. !ir; I"!, not ;o fiifc." " \Veil. ir I wuit t>e rude, I mult l>i;t ^.\t I v.'.f.i 1 coiiM evade it; 'Tia Hia: 1 . -eiy clownifn, L-e pcrfuadtd " iu'-h !>reed \, as o:;e''i grannaai prertches, Ov iov.ie oia ('.^r-cii^-ni^lter t?;.ches. O i\>r f'K;.e race tuuiuliuous ioilciw, llrlt crr.i'.y. or. st l^iA, h.V.t me:lo\v, To come '...hint 1 , you un?\vEres, And laii-ly pi,::i y:>a bol.. OMV.VI ftairst But IJea'.h'i ;.t hand iet :r.s advi'l- you, Go J'onvauij U;,..d. i cr hi'li iarpuie y:>u, Bciides, how infmcore you arc! Do ye not flatter, lie, for! wear, And daily cheat, and weekly pray, And all for this to lead the wa f PATAL EFFECTS oj MONASTIC SECLUSION. OH ! were tried; walls permitted to rehearfc, Or might our retrofpective vifion pieicc', Time's facred volume, through each crouded page Dark with the annals of thine iron age, What monuments of blind, miftaken zeal The faithrul record would at once reveal ! Myriads of youth, by thy deftruftive fpell, Sent living fun'rab to the cloiiter'd cell ; Condemn'd the wretched penance to abide Of foul hypocrify and monkifh pride : Each warm affeftion and paternal care Left unrequited for the pomp of pray'r; Each focial duty, each endearing tie, The foul's belt bond, its native fympathy, And thofe tew virtues which our natures own, Alike forgotten, or alike unknown. There the pale veftal to thy fhrine betray'd, Her fpirits wafted and her bloom decay'd, All melancholy mourns the ling'ring day, Forbid to feel, and tutor'd how to pray; Taught to confefs, through the unbluminp: grate, Thofe fins (if fins) the darkfome walls create, While foft confeffion and rcluftant pray'r Follow the bead lefs frequent than the tear : And from the lonely midnight couch arifc The lovely captive's ineffectual fighs. With filent anguifh is her bofom torn, And native tranfports flruggling to be born : The figh of meek companion, faithful gucft ! Supreme and facred in the female breaft ; The foft vibrations of the tender vow, And all the namelels ecftafies that flow From kindred harmony, domcftic peace, Maternal rapture, and connubial blifs. Add too the mild fcnfations which await The daily comforts of the crowded gate, Whofe bounty never fails the poor to blcfs, Like Heav'n's own manna in the wildernefs; Where llreams no i'orrow, where the ions of need Are cloth'd, if naked, and, if hungry, fed : - Thole blamelefs tranipo r ts ot the virtuous mind. From Heav'n defcended, and by Hcav'n defign'd To i'oothe. our fad variety of woe, And harmonize the itate of man below. Such mi.^ht have render'd many a veftal dear The fun and folace of her focial fphcre. But thefe expir'd at forr.e foul demon's hour, Crufh'd by the iron hand of papal pow'r. Hard Ibte ! the foul of fympathy deny'd To (hare the pieafure, or the pain divide ; Joylefs herfelf : to others' joys unknown, She drops no tear for forrow but her own ; Till, pining in the folitary gloom. She links impity'd to an early tomb. Thus droops the beauteous plant of tender birth, When rudelv fever'd from its parent earth: Though ail alluring to the fpoiler's view The grace and fragrance of the vale it grew, In '.ome d?.nk cave its dying Iweets exhale, Where cheers no fun. where breathes no vernal gale; The infant buds, jufl burfting into day. Strive to expand, and ere they bloom decay. MAN WAS .MADE TO MOURX. WHEN chill November's furly blaft, Made fields ?nd fore (Is bare, One ev'ning. as I wandcr'd forth Alon_g the banks of Ayr, I fpv'd a man, whofe aged flen Scv-nvd wenry. worn \vith care; His face was furrow'tl o'er with )x-nrs, And hoary v.-as his hair. <: Young ftranger, -whither wand'rcll thou?' Began the rev 'rend iatre; " Does third- of wealth thy ftep conftrain, Or youthful pleafurc's rage-? Or haply, prefs'd with cares and v/oe-, Too Coon thou haft began To wander forth, v/ith me to mourn The miferies of man. ct The fun that overhangs yon moors, Outfpreading far and wide, Where hundreds labour to fapport A haughty lordling's pride; I've feen yon weary winter fun Twice forty times return; And ev'ry time has added proofs, That man was made to mourn. " O man ! while in thy carlv ycr.rs, How prodigal of time! Mifpending all thy precious hov.rs, Thy glorious youthful prime! Alternate follies take the fway ; Licentious paffions burn ; Which ten-fold force gives Nature's lav,-, That man was made to mourn. *' Look not alone on youthful prime, Or manhood's aftivc might; Man then is ufeful to his kind, Supported is his right; But fee him on the edge of life, With cares and forrows worn ; Then age and want (oh, ill-match'd pair!) Show, man was made to mourn. " A few feem favourite 5 ; of Fate, In Pleafurc's lap carefs'd ; Yet think not all the rich and great Are likewile truly blefs'd. But. oh! what crowds in cv'ry laud, All wretched and forlorn, Through weary life this leffon learn, That man was made to mourn ! Alan's Inhumanity to man Makes countiei's tnout'auds mourn! '' See yonder poof o'er-!".bour'd v;igh So abject, mean. and v:!e, Who be^s a brother of th.* e^rth To give h : in leave to toil ; And fee his lordly fellow ^'orm. " Jf I'm defign'd yon lordling's flave, l'iy r.atii'.'e's law defjgn'd, V.'hy was an independent wifti E'er planted in my mind ? If not, why am I fubjec: to His cruelty and fcorn '{ O: why has man the will and pow'r To make his fellow mourn ? ' Yet, let not this toe much, my fon } Diihirb thy youthful brca't.: Tnis partial view of human kind, Is lurely not the WW-AA'/.' T''.e poor opprelfed, honeft man Had never, uire. been horn. Had there not been foine recompcnfe To comfort thofe that mourn. t! O Death! the poor man's deareft fiiencij The kindeft and the beft ! Yi'elcome the hour my aged Hmbs Are ir.id v.'ith thee ai veil! Ti:e great, the wealthy fear thy blow, From pomp and plealurc torn; I5!!t, oh! a bleit relief to thole That, weary-laden, mouiu." THE WISH. IY tnefe uncertain tranfient fcenes below, "\'.'>.ere hopes and fears alternate ebb and f!ov/j ^V"^..-re ioys in profpeft charm tlv ilivifh'd eye^ Ba; iu uuitioa fade, or wholly die ; [ 65 } Where cnrli. by various whims and pr.fficr.s tofs'd, In puzzling mazes frequently is k>il ; Grant me the blefTing of one faithful friend, On whom with confidence I may depend : Of ioul fincere. in ufefiil knowledge \\ -i'V-, I'rqwr'd in time of grief to fyirpathize ; Her mind, like fjmfhine of the brighteft do*/, To glnd the heart and praifc the genial ray; M'ho has no thought which friendfhip need conceal, Or e'er a fee ret purpofe wouid reveal ; Warp'd by no paffion. private end, or fame, Alike our int'refls, and oi-r minds the fame. Ye virtuous few! of fympat'rttic foil], Whofe inbred \vor;h all felfifh ends control ; Who freely can, without re-ferve, impart Each gcii'ions hnpulfe rifing in the heart, As through this vale of mifery we go, May we the fweets of tender friendfhip know ! And grant me. pow'rs! out of your airmle itore, Health, peace, one faithful fiieno. ; I afk. no more. AX KI.ECIAC ODE. W IIEX the flroke of the \voodinan had ceas'd in the v?ie. A:; 1 Ae fwcet Philoinela had finifh'd her fong- A f-ge child of fonow repeated his tale. And iigh'd to the It ream ss it munr.ur'd along. " I have feen the glad profpcft, which led me altray, Change its luftre, and fade like the tints of the morn; I have ieen the meridian fplendour of day, Ik.t night has lucceeded, and left me forlorn. " I have feen, as I pafs'd. ho\v ihe rofe blufhing gny, To the gale of the morning its bofom diipliiy'd ; I return'd -but ifs beauties had ir'(V-fl away, And the pride ui the morn ere the ev 'ning was dead. <; I have feen 'oh. h.!! 'a iroirt his 3i>K'ie; 1'or he w?s poor. Lcl't thus a wretelied one, .Scorn innae a mock cl her, and c\ '! tomr'ie:, V/ere bviy with her n<;nc. She h<.d or.c ill, Heavier negh'cl, forgelfulnefs from him Whom fhe had lov'd fo dearly. Onto he wrote, J5ut only or*cc thr.t drop of comfort csm?, 1\) mingle with her cup of wretcbcdnefs ; And when his parei'ts had fomc tidings from i'.lr?, There was no rr.e.ition i)i pool Hannah there; Or ! tw;is the r.olrl iuquir'/, bitterer 'J'han hlence. So fit -,-. piii'ct. a;,d pir.'d away, A'.d for licrfelf and b;hy toii'd 3nd toli'ci,' Till fhe funk with very wcr.knefs Her old i.-,cv.h.'r Omitted no kiiid ofl^.c-.-, p.nd Ihc wcrk'd Moil hard, and. with hard work:;'/.';, barely cnrii'J. llnough to make life {Im^le. Thus fl:c lay On the iick bed of poveriv. i'o \vorn That (he could make no eflort to exprcfs A(t"eftif>n for her inlunt: and the child. V'hof. 1 li'pinc; love, perhaps, had iolac'd her, With ftrangeii infantine ingratilude, Shunn'd her as one indiff'rent. She v.vs p?.'; Thr.t angr.ifh for fhe felt her hour draw on, And 'twas her only comfort now to thir.k Upon the grave. ' Poor ^iil !'' her mother faiu, " Thou haft fuffer'd much !" !c Aye, mother, there Is none Can tell what I have fuffer'd," fhe reply'. 1 , : " But I fhall foon be where the weary re!i.' 5 And fhe did reft, her f..>on ; for it pleas'd Goc^ To take her to his mercy. GILES JOLLUP the GRAVE and BROVvT'T SALLY GREEN. A PARODY. They i'.;c:-c'd up the cordial with true I!" deli, Giles Jol],;p t'ie GIT.VC was juft live feet in Aud icui l^ct the Brown >uiiv Grecu. :! An? 1 r.s." fr-id Giles jollup, " to-morrow I go ' 1 o phyfic a tevenfh land, < ! At f"n:c 'ixpcnr.v hop. or pcihaps the may'r's fhow, ' Yun'ji tumble Jr. 1'v, e with (omc (mart city-beau, !: And with him fuare your (hop in the Strand." ' Lord. h,-;\/ can you think ib ?'' Brown Sally Greea laid ; ' Y'lii m:,!f know mighty little of me; ' 1'iiv ',{ yi,u lu- Iivi;i. or if you be dead, ' I "A ear. : uon mv hoiiorr, that none in your {lead '- Shall huYbsnd of Sally Green be. ' And if e'er for anotl er iry lieart fliould decide, " Ir.I'.c to vo'! and the 1'altL which I gave, * ; God grnit tb'.t. st :'.:..r.L-r. too amply i'lipply'd, ' Ov..T-ezii:i ; T :?.v g ; ve n:e B pain i;i my lide ; ' : May vour si. oil tl.ea bring ihubaib to phyfic the ' bride." " And i'cr.d her. v, t-11-doz'd to the grave!" .Away went poor Giles, tr> what place is not told. >^ily wept. t,il ihc blew her noic fore ! l-',:.t fcarcc t"d 3 t'.veheir o:::h tlaps'd when, behold ! A B;V\.LT. quite iryliib, his gi^ that way roll'd, Aiid [topp'd it at Sally Guxu's door. U's wealth, liis pot-belly, and whifky of cai;e, Soon rear'e h.< r lu.tiiie to her vows : Tiie licam of ibov.r beer r.ow bewild'ring her brain, lie caught her \\liile tipiy ' Denials were vain, So he cany'd her home as his fpouie. And now tle rorft beef had been blefs'd by the prieft, To C:ari ,:o\v the ^"uefts had begun: Tcoth arid t^iii. like a wolf, fell the bride on the feafl; Xor yet h;'d the ckfh of her knife and fork cea'd, When a bell ^'twis a dullman's) -toll'd " one 1" Then fii ft. wit!-, amazement, Brov.'n Sally Green found, Thrt a !hs^;er wfs i'tuck by her fide: His cravst ;r<(\ h ; s ruffes with fnuft' were embrown'd ; K.- ate not, he dvr-uk not. but, turning him round, Se::t '.omc pudding away to be fry 'a ! ! ! His v/';>; wns turn'd forwards, and fnort was his height ; His upiGU was dirty to view ; The women 'oh ! wondrous !) were hufh'd at the fight : The cst.s. ?s they ey'd him, drew back. ;weli they might.) For his body was pea-green and blue! Now as all wifh'd to fpcak, but none kr.ew what to fay, They look'd mighty foolifh and queer. At length fpoke the bride, while flie tiembled t; I pray, Dear Sir, your peruke {hnt afide you would la " And partake ot fome iliong or imall beer!" Wh Each mifs then exclaim'd. while fhe turn'd up her fnout, " Sir, vour head isn't fit to be feen !" The pot-boys ran in, ai'.d the pot-bovs ran out, And couldn't corceive what the noifc- wss about, While the Doftor addrci&'d Sally Green : ' Behold me, thou Jill-Hi rt ! behold me !" he ciy'd ; " You've broken the faith which you gave ; *' God grants, that, to punifh your faliehood and pride, prie, " Over-eating (hould give you a pain in your fide : "Come fwallow this rhubarb ! I'll phyi'ic the- bride, " And fend her, well-dos'd, to the grave!" Thus faying, the phyfic her throat he forc'd down, In fpite of ivhate'er fhe could fay ; Then bore to his chariot the damfel fo brown ; Nor ever again was fhe feen in that town, Or the Doftor who whifk'd her away, Not long liv'd the Brewer : and none, fince that time, To make ufc of the brew-houfe prefume ; Tor 'tis firmly believ'd, that, by order, fublime, There Sally Green fuflers the pain of her crime, And bawls to get out of the room. At midnight, four times in each year, does her fpritc, With ilirieks, make the chamber refouud ; With wigs fo well po\vder'd, their fees -while they crave. Dancing round them, twelve cloclors are feen : They drink chicker.-broth, while this horrible Have Is tv/ang'd through each noi'e " To Giles Jollup the Grave " Aud his patient, the fick Sally Green !" POOR victim of oppreffion ! and is this. This all the choice thy tyrant matter leaves thee ? This all thy home, poor outcaft ? Com'ft thou here, Weary with labour and the day's hard t:iik, As to thy refting-piace ? In footh, poor Afs ! Well hall thou choien it: the reft thou ferk'it Xone here fhall interrupt none here mfult The pniuve tamenci's of thy nature 'tis Infirmity's hereditary home. Welcome, partake the tranquil boon it offers; Enioy its flefh-fed verdure, thou poor heaft ! And, as thou teafteft at Death's table, think f'Tis Mis'ry's higheft privilege, the thought !) Thou fealteil at the table of a friend ! TO THE PRIMROSE. PALE vifitant of balmy Tprinq;, Joy of the new-born year. That bidd'it young Hope new plume his wing. Soon as thy buds appear : While o'er the incenfe-breathing fky The tepid hours firft dare to fly, Ai;d vainly v/oo the chilling breeze; That bred in Winter's fro/en Lp. Still ftruggling chains the lin^'ring f.in With'.a the ivido-.v'd trees ; Ri.-ir.ote fiom towns, thy tranfient life Is lpe.nt in fk:es more pure ; The S..;buib fmoke, the feat of ft rife, Thou canft but ill endure. Coy n;ftic ! that an blooming found V.'.::ere art'efs Nature's charms abound. Sweet neighbour of the chanter nil ; VV;1 ploaj'd to dp his fUv'ry tide, Oi nodding o'er the fr>ur:tp;i.'j f.cle, Self-gazing look tl.v fill. Or on the cins'o's fh:.do\vy ftcep, The gaudy furze beneath, Thy 1'iocU-ii: beaut'Cd fweetly peep, Thv ci niter odouri breathe. Frorn iiiX'iry v/e turn a'ide. Fiom \\eiti) and ofieiitstious prifv\ \V;:b nnnv an eir.blematic the/;. 1 ; Thy hurab'.er mien well pleased to n..;:t, Like compi-tenre in b'elVc' rctj'cc.:, Tiiy iKiil^s t'.:e fprirj r.eiorn. V.'hc: rhc: ;r: tho-a born! no fplcr.d'id hue Of rh;:r.'s prouder r.^ce. r l c- me more f:;iv crt thou to viev/ In :ill thv i;np!.:r ;;rr.co. T'tlr.e innocence Er.d bc-.uty meek, IMore like jny C<.Ieiti;w f s cheek, Where rill t'/.e iroddt virtues pby; Jxpivilion bcrrr.in^ tVoir. her eye. Iii clit-rub fniiles ot chaitity, Vt'ith mild ai.d temper'd rav. Yet rre.if'. res l:;rk \x-'t!:':n thy lips. "J'n -.,bd t! e fpoilo:' bee, "Who not \vi;'i idle errand ilps, Or \\-auion vair-jncv. Ah ! biefs'd is 1 e v.-':;o temp'rancc tries, Simplicity above dif^uife, Ar.d'iliiir.s ti.-e filler ql.jfi of art; ; T'~ !>,- cx'iaf's a bliia lef.n'd, Coi-;,..-^ : .-i to the virtuoi-s mind, I'M tender icebng heart. Thy fmiles young Innocence invite, What time thy lids awake, In fhadowy lane to taltc delight, Or mazy tangled brake. The infant troop of rofy hue, And gay with health, I ieem to view, While pleafure lights their laughing eyes; With little hands a w/eath combine, Their fugitive delights entwine, And boaft their fragrant prize. Ah! happy breafts! unknown to pain, I would not fpoil your joys; Nor vainly teach you to complain Of life's delufive toys. Be jocund Hill, ttill fport and fmile, Nor dream of woe, or future guile; For foon fhall ye awaken'd find The joys of life's fad thorny way But fading ilow'rets of a day, Cut down by ev'ry wind. TRANSLATION OF AX HYMN, Competed by SlLLERY and LA SOURCE, And fun" by them every night during their Confinement with her in the Prifon of the Luxembourg, MISS WILLIAMS. CALM all the tumults that invade Our louls, and lend thy pow'rful aid, Oh! Source of Mercy! footh our pains, And break, oh! break our cruel chains ! To tr.ee the captive pours his cry, To thee the mourner loves to fly : The incenfe of our tears receive, 'Tis all the incenfe we can give. Eternal Pow'r! our caufe defend, O God ! of innocci.ce the triend! Near thee for ever fhe reiides, In thee for ever ihe confides. Thou know'il the fecrets ot the brer. ft, Thou know'lt th' oppreilor and tli' opic{V J ; [ 74 ] Do thou our wrongs with pity fee, Avert a doom offending thee. But fliould the murderer's arm prevail, Should tyranny our life affail, Unmov'd, triumphant, fcorning death, We'll blefs thee with our lateft breath. The hour, the glorious hour will come That confecrates the patriot's tomb : And with the pang our mem'ry claims, Our country will avenge our names. ELEGY ON THE AFRICAN SLAVES. SHENSTONE. WHY droops this heart with fancy'd woes for- lorn ? Why finks my foul beneath each wintry fky ? What penfwe crowds, by ccafelds labours worn, What myriads wifh to be as blefs'd as I ! What though my roof devoid of pomp arifo, Nor tempt the proud to quit his deftin'd way! Nor coftly art my flow'ry dales diiguife, Where only fimple Friendfhip deigns to ftray! See the wild fons of Lapland's chill domain, That fcoop their couch beneath the drifted fnowsf How void of hope they ken the frozen plain, Where the fharp call for ever, ever blows! Slave though I be, to Delia's eyes a flave, My Delia's eyes endear the bands I wear; The iigh fhe caufes well becomes the brave, The pang fhe caufes 'tis e'en blifs to bt'ir. See the poor native quit the Lybian fhores, Ah! not in love's delightful fetters bound; No radiant fmile his dying peace rcllorcs; Nor love, nor fame, nor frieadfhin heals his wound. Let vacant bards difplay their boafted woes; Shall I the mockery of grief difplay ? C 75 ] No; let the Mufe his piercing pangs difclofe, Who bleeds and weeps his funi ot life away! On the wild beach in mournful guife he flood, Ere the fhrill boatfwain gave the hated ii^n ; He dronp'd a tear uuleen into the flood, He Stole one fecret moment to repine. Yet the Mufe liften'd to the plaints he made, Such moving plaints as nature could infpire ; To ni the Mute his tender plea ccnvey'd, But hnooth'd and fuited to the founding lyre. " V.";y am I ravifh'd from my native ftrand ? \Yhat favajre race protects this impious gain? S'wii foreign plagues infeft this teeming land, And more than fea-born menders plough the main ? <; Here the dire lociil'i' horrid fwarms prevail ; Here the bh'e ,i!'ps with livid poiton fwell ; Here the dry dip^i writhes his fmuous mail ; Can we not here iecure f ;om envy dwell ? (! Vv'hen the grim lion urg'd his cruel chafe, \Viiea the item panther fought his midnight prey, \V! at fate aft-iVd me for this Chrillian race ? O race i,:ore polifa'd, more fcvere than they! ' Ye prv,vii:ig ivolves ! purfue my lateit cries; Thou huiieiy ti^er! leave thy reeking den; Ye f.tiidy v.- a lies ' in r?pid edd:es rife; O tear me from the whips and fcorns of men ! *' Yet In their face fuperior beauty glows : Are fm'iics the mien of rapine and of wrong? Yet from their lip the voice of mercy flows, And ev'n religion dwells upon their tongue. " Of bl'.fsful hrunts they tell, and brighter climrs, V.'her.. :;e::tlc minds, convey'd by death, repair; But ftaln'd with, blood, and crimfon'd o'er withcrimes, osv, {!i:ill they merit what they paint fo fair? Xo; ?.' tie's, honelefs of thofe fertile plains, Ri^h \>\ r cur toils, and by our forrows gay, They p!y ur labours and enhance our pains, Ana fe:s:n th.jfe d:!ta:it regions to renav. C 76 ] Where rove t!;e brutal nation's wild defurs, Our limbs are parchas'd, and our lives arc fold ! " Yet mores there are, hlefs'd fhores for us remain* And favour'd iP.es, with golden fruitage ci owu'd, Whore tufterl flow' rets print the verdant plain, Where ev'ry breeze (hall medicine ev'ry wound. " There the flern tyraiU that embitters life Shall, vainly frppliant, fpread his afking hand ; There {hail we vivvv the billow's laging ftrife Aid the kind brealt, and waft his boat to land." MONSIEUR TONSON. THERE liv'd, as Fame reports, in days of yore. At Jv-ail foine Jifiy years ago, or more, A plea-ant wight in town, yrlep'd Tom Kiurj; A fellow that was clever at a jo'\e. Expert in rll the arts to teay.e and fnicf.c. In fhort, tor itrokcs of humour qu;tc the thing. To many a ''ovial club Tom King was known, Wit!' whom h ; s aftive wit unrivall'd fhone Choice fpirit, grave freemafon, buck raid biood Would crowd h s {lories r.nd ban mcts \g through the ftreet, In hopes ionic h-'jd for humo.r.- loon to meet, Vv'ix::). ii; a ,vi..'.iow -le.ir, a lighv tr.ey view; And. thr : ;,h a dr.n J.'d melancholy ray, It iiv.n'd t! > oiolog'u- to ioine ir.ei ry piny, ^o Ljv'icli ti'c gluomy dome ojr hero drew. Str-.'^.i-t at the door Tom gave a thund'ring knock, (Ti:e ; ir - \ve rn::y fuppofe ncs; two o'clocK,) " I 1! ..Ik," luVsKiiig, ' if THOMSON lodges here." * : Tiicr.:so.v," cri.s t'ot;:er. " who the devil's he?" " I knosv iiot." Ki::g replies, ' but want to fee What kind i,l r..:i!7ial will nov/ appear." After fonie tiine, a little Frenchman caine; One hand difplay'd a rufh-light's trembling flairs, The other h.-ld the tirng they call culottc. ; An old itrjp'd \voollen night-cap grac'd his head, A tatter'd \v^i.k-ott o'er one fnr.ulder i'pre?d, Scarce half awake lie heav'd a yawnii.g note. Thor.gh thus untimely rous'd; he courteous fmil'd, Aiul foon iddreis'd cur wsg in accents mtid, Bending his head politely to his knev c: Pi,.y, Sare. vat vant you. dat you coi-ie fo late ? 1 in' ; your paidon, vSare. to make you vait ; Pra)', tell me. Sare. vat your commands vid ine ?" ' Sir." rcply'd King, " I merely thought to know, As by your houle I chanc'd to-night to go But. really. I've diilurb'd your fieen. I ftar I fay, I thought thnt you perhaps could tell. Among the folks who in tiiis it reel may dv.'ell, If there's a Mr. THOMSON lodges here ? :) The fhiv'ring Frenchman, though not plsas'd to find. Tii'.- bufiue's of this unimportant kiiul, Too iimple to luloccT; 'twas meant i,i iecr. Shrugg'd out a i.gh. that thus his rcit n-.oi.ld break, T!^n. with unaltcr'd courtciy ho 'paxc ' Xo, bare; wo Moaficur Tossox loj'-i h:rc.'' [ 78 ] Cur w.ng begg'd pardon, and tnw'rds horn' hi- Tpcd, While the poor Frenchman crawl'd ag.iin to bed. Bat King refolv'd not thus to drop the Jeff; So the next night, with more of whim than gnw, Again lie made a viiit to the place, To break once more the poor old Frenchman's reft. Tom kr.ock'd, but waited longer than before; No footitep fecm'd approaching to the door, Our Frenchman lay in fuch a deep profound Tom, with the knocker, thundcr'd then again, Firm on his poll determin'd to remain ; And oft, indeed, he made the door rofound. At laft Tom hears him o'er the paffage cieep, "VVomi'ring what fiend again diiturb'd his :';vp; The wag falutes him with a civil leer; Thus drawling out, to heighten the fuvprif<>, ^While the poor Frenchman rubb'd his heavy eves,) " Is there a Mr. THOMSON lodges here ?" The Frenchman falter'd with a kind of fright '' Vy, Sare, I'm fure I tell you, Sare, I?.ft night (And here he labour'd with a figh linci-re,) No Monfieur TON SON in de varld I know, No Monfieur TONSON here I tell you fo ; Indeed, Sare, dere no Monfieur TONSON loges here !" .Some more excufes tender'd, off King goes, And the old Frenchman fought once more repofe. The rogue next night purfu'd his odd career 'Twas long indeed before the man came nigh, And then he utter'd, in a piteous figh, " Sare, 'pon my foul, no Monfieur TONSON here." Our fportive wight his ufual vifit paid, And the next night came forth a prattling maid, Whofe tongue, indeed, than any iack went failer Anxious fhe flrove Tom's errand to inquire; He laid, " 'Twas vain her pretty tongue to tire, He would not ftir till he had feen her matter," The damfel then began, in doleful fbte, The Frenchman's broken {lumbers to relate, And be ;g'd he'd call at propel time of day- Tom told her fhe muft fetch her matter down, A chaife w?.s ready he was leaving town, Bat full had much of deep concern to fay. C 79 ] Thus urg'd, fhe went the fnoring man to call, And long, indeed, was fhe oblig'd to bawl Ere fhe could roufe the torpid lump of clay. At laft he wakes he rifes and he fwears, But fcarcely had he totter'd down the flairs, When Tom attacks him in the ufual way. The Frenchman now perceiv'd 'twas all in vain To this tormentor mildly to complain, And ih-aight in rage began his creft to rear " Sare, vat de devil make you treat me fo ? Sare, I inform you, Sare, tree nights ago, Got tarn, I fwear, no Monfieur TONSON here." True as the night, Tom went, and heard a ftrife Between the harrafs'd Frenchman and his wife, Which fhould defcend to chafe the fiend away : At length to join their forces they agiee, And llraight impctuoufly turn the key, Prepar'd with mutual fury for the frar. Our hero, with the firmnefs of a rock, Collected to receive the mighty fhock, Uttering the old inquiry, calmly flood The name of THOMSON rais'd the ilorm fo high Tom dcem'd it then the fafcft plan to fly, With "Well, I'll call when you're in gentler mood." In fhort, our hero, with the fame intent, full many a night to plague the Frenchman went- So fond of mifchief was the wicked wit : They throw out water for the watch they call, But Tom, expecting, ftill efcapes from all Monfieur at lall was forc'd his houfe to quit. It happen'd that our wag, about this time, On forne fair proipeft fought the Eaflern clime; Six ling'ring years were there his tedious lot; At K-ngth, content, amid his rip'ning {lore. Tom tieads again on Britain's happy fnore, And his long abfence is at once torgot. To London with impatient hope Tom flies, Ami the fame night, as former freaks sriie, Tom iain mud droll, the well-known hnunt to trace. " Ah! here's the fcene ol frequent mirtli," Tom faid : ; My poor old Frenchman, I fuppoie, is dead L_;ad! I'll knock aud lee who hoitis his place." C 80 ] With rapid flrokesTom makes themanfion roar, And while he eager eyes the op'ning door, Lo ! who obeys the knocker's rattling peal ? Why, e'en our little Frenchman, ftrange to fay, He took his old abode that very day Capricious turn of fportive Fortune's wheel ! Without one thought of the relentlefs foe. "U'ho. fiend-like, haunted him fix years ago, Juft in his former trim he now appears ; The w. iftcoat and the night-cap feem'd the fame, With rufh-light, as before, he creeping came, And Tom's detefted voice aftonifh'd hears. As if fome hideous fpeclre ftruck his fight, His fenfes feem'd bewilder'd with affright; His face, indeed, befpoke a heart full fore Then, ftarting, he exclaim'd, in rueful ftrain, *' Begar ! here's Monfieur TONSON, come again .'" Away he ran and ne'er was heard of more. THE GRAND DISTINCTION Between the VIRTUOUS and the 1VICKED referred for another State. LOOK round the world ! with what a partial hand The fcale of blifs and mis'ry is iuftain'd, Beneath the fhade of cold obfcurity Pale Virtue lies; no arm lupports her head, No friendly voice {peaks comfort to her foul, Nor foft-eyed Pity drops a melting tear; But in their ftend Contempt and rude Difdain Infult the banifh'd wand'rer. On ftc goes Ncglefted and forlorn : Difeafe and Cold. AIM! Famine, worft of ills, her fleps attend : Y<-t patient, and to Heav'n's juit will refign'd, She ne'er is feen to weep, or heard to figh. Nov.' turn your eyes to yon fweet-fmcllir.g bow'r, Where ilufh'd with all the infolence of wealth Sits parnper'd Vice! for him th' Arabian gale Breathes forth delicious odours ; Gsllia's lulls [ 8! ] F-ir him pour ncftar from the purple vin?; Xor t'i'.nk for thefe lie pays the tribute due To Heav'n : of He.-'.v'n he never nr^es the nains ; Save when v.-ith imprecations t'ri'k :;nd dire He poi.its his jdl oHcene. Yet b::x'v.n Health Sits on Ills rofy chv-A; vet H'n.-.ur gilds His high exploits; and tiowny-pinion'd fleep Sheas a lof: opiL,u e'er Lis pe:.j.ru.i couch. See;l tbou this, righteous Father! Seelt thou this, And will thou ne'er repay? fhall good and ill, B: rairy',1 iij-.diitinguifh'd to the land "U'here all things are forgot : Ah, no! tl;e day Vi':ll coine. when Virtue from the clone! ft^ll burft, Ti;at lor.^ oblcur'd her bcr.vns ; when iy joys, hopes, f nd pleafures were hid in the tomb, Sue!' once was my wifh, nor unworthy to know Th; cahn that an innocent life fhould beftow ; 1'uL vain were my projects, my wifhcs all vain; Xo repofe. no retirement, limit (often my pain ; Strange mailers my meadows and groves mall poffefs; For them rr.y lov'd plants wear their beautiful dreib. To new regions I go ; unfriended, alone, Reji-fted, forgotten, unpity'd unknown. Doom'd perhaps, to behold my dear country no more, My bones ihail li.- \\hitc on lonie far-diRant Ihore; O'er my poor fcatter'd relics no forrows be (hed, And nameieis the dufl that flies over my head. REFLECTIONS On the Mifcry attendant upon Greatnefs. MRS. ROBINSON. AH ! who can tell the various pangs that wait OP. iplendid mHery ? the hidden woes Th.jt. thronging round the canopy of gold, Pernicious, moth-like, feed upon the wretch \VI;o groans beneath the pageantry of ftate ? "Who can defcribe the agonizing throbs, The thirfh, fevers, or the languid hours, That latcu Luxury is dooni'd to own ? Who can avert the ftrongly-poifon'd fhaft Of Envy, glancing from the recreant foul ? Or who can bear the flow-confirm ing touch Of unrequited Love; the fubtle fm ; le Of infolent Difdai-.i ; or the fell grafp Of keen Ingratitude, " die child of hell!" C 4 ] Or who, but thofe. the worfi of human kind, V.'ho b?tten on the. mifevies of ir.sn, Would, robbing Nar.ire of her ample means. C [". !;:;h the befe knee, or prov.int the !a\v:ii;^ tongue, To ;,nin .pplaufe f r om Ignorance and Price? VT'in. thiit is Ljk r s'd wit! 1 , ir.tcliccl: u- f ,n'ii ; V.'ith Vr.ie. to kno-.v the dignity <>i v,\mh ; The vait ;'-r..-u-inac^ - of innr.i'. tir>'i ; Tl-e rnajeiiv of niir.cl ; t ; n: fr-crcci ,^'ow That warms the fors of Gonii s. t. --d expands T !i c pure eU.ercal efT'ence of the fo'il, \Voi'.lc1. I'.ke ?.n e?'^!, A lowly ir.vd. to gri^f conii^n'd. Tiius nour'd '.he for rows of h " Thou, cruel war. what haft thou do-.c? Through thee the mother moi:r,-;s her Ion, The orphan joins the widow's crirs, And. to;n fror.: iove th; lover dies. " Ah, William! v.-hsrcfore dldft t!;ou go To foreign b.nds to :roet the ioe ? V.'hy, won by war's dcccitlu! chrrirs, Didft thou forfake thy Aiir.a'i t/r.u ? ' Alas! full littlt- didil thou kno-.v, 'I he monfter war doth falieiy fhov/ : lit- decks his form with plea!'.::;; rvt, Auu iude.6 U;c diiers in his ii>.ar;. [ 85 ] The mufic of his mavtlal band, Ti;e fhining halberd in his hand; The feather'd hdmet on his head, And co;.t fo hiv of flaminjr red " With t'lcie the fimple vouth lie gains, And tcmnts him from bis peaceful plains; And by :t :s pomp wss William led The dc;-. .'rcus rnths of \v ' Fair-founding words my love deceiv'd: Tbo great one's talk'd, and he believ'd, Thrt war would fame and treafure bring, That glory call'd to ierve the king. " Cr.t wife men fny. and fure it's true, That war is theft, and murder too ; Yet hrd my Wil!i,T.-!i thought it fo, Ho had not gone to fight the foe. t: How bleil, coi'.ld Anna fee him now, With fhovlders bending o'er the plough, Toilir.g to fow h-s rative fields, And reap the harvefl virtue yields. " Then happier lot would both betide, A bridegroom he, and I a bride. But thefe fond hopes reti'.rn ro more, I'or dead he lies 0:1 yonder fhore. " O ! in that battle's difmal day, Vx'hen tliou, dear youth, didft gafping lay, Why was not then thy Anna there, To bind thy wounds with ibftell care; " To fcarch with fpced the ncsreft fpring-, To thy parch'd lips the -water bring; To wafh with tears thy bleeding face, And lootb thee with a laft embrace. " But thou, amid a favage train, \Ve"V mingled among heaps of ilain, \V th.rit - j\e friend to bear thy fighs, Or Ap.nti'b h.cmd to clofe thir.e eyes. " T!-.!>;i. cuul war, what hnfl thon clone? n'vugh tl\e the- motl-er mourns her fon, The o jjj:?r- ( fhall I find repofe on a fad widow'd bed ? Come, Theban drug,* the wretch's only aid, To my torn heart its former peace reftore; Thy vot'ry wrapp'd in thy Lethean fhade. Awhile fhall ceafe his forrows to deplore: Haply when lock'd in fleep's embrace, Again I fhall behold my Emma's face ; Again with tranfport hear Her voice foft whifp'ring in my ear ! May fteal once more a balmy kifs, And talle at lead of vifionary blifs. But, ah! th' unwelcome morn's obtruding light Will all my fhadowy fchemes of blifs dtpofe, Will tear the dear illufion from my fight, And wake me to the fenfe of all my woes : * Laudanum. C 93 ] If to the verdant fields I ftray, Alas ! what pleafures now can thefe convey ? Her lovely form purfues where'er I go, And darkens all the fcene with woe. By nature's lavifh bounties cheer'd no more, Sorrowing I rove, Through valley, grot, and grove; Naught can their beauties or my lofs reftore; No herb, no plant. c?.n med'cine my difeafe, And my fad iighs are borne on ev'ry pafiing breeze. Sic!;ncfs nnd forrow hov'ring round my bed, V, ho now with anxious hafte fhall bring relief, With ier.ier.t hand fupport my drooping head, Alluage my pains, and mitigate my grief? Should worldly bufmefs call away, Who now fhail in my abfence fondly mourn, Count ev'ry minute of the loit'ring day, Impatient for my quick return ? Shop.id aught rnv bolom difcompofe, Who now with Iweet complacent air Shall fmooth the rugged brow of care, And foften all my woes ? Too faithful mem'ry Ceafe, O ceafe Kow fhall I e'er regain my peace ? (O to forget her!) but how vain each art, Whii!t ev'ry virtue lives imprinted on my heart An,', thou, my little cherub, left behind, To hear a father's plaints, -to (hare his v/oes, When rcalou's dawn informs thy infant mind, And thy fweet-lifping tongue fhall afk the caufe, How oft with forrow fhall mine eyes run o'er, When, twining round my knees, I tiace Thv mother's fmile upon thy face ? How oft to my full heart ihalt thou reftorc Sad memory ot my joys ah, now no more ! 15 y bk-ilings once enjoy'd now more dillreff, .More beggar by the riches once poffeft. My little darling! dearer to me grown By all the tears thou caus'd 'O firange'to hearf^* Bought with a life yet dearer than thy own, Ihy cradle pnrchas'd with thy mother's bier: Who now fhall feek. with fond delight, Thy infant Heps to guard aright? She who with doating eyes would gaze On all tly little anlels ways, t 94 ] fcy all thy foft endearments bloft, And clafp thee oft with tranfport to her breaft, Alas ! is gone Yet flialt thou prove A father's deareft, tendered love ; And O fweet fenfelefs fmiler (envied Rate) ! As yet unconfcious of thy haplcfs fate, When years thy judgment fliall mature, And reafon (hows thofe ills it cannot cure, Wilt thou, a father's grief t' afluage, For virtue prove the ph'cenix of the earth (Like her, thy mother cly'd to give thee birth), And be the comfort of my age, When uck and languifhing I lie, Wiit thou my Emma's wonted care fupply? And oft as to thy lift'ning ear Thy mother's virtues and her fate I tell, Sty, wilt thou drop the tender tear, Wbilft on the mournful theme I dwell f Then fondly dealing to thy father's fide> Whene'er thou feed the foft diftrefs, Which I would vainly feek to hide, Say, wilt thou ftrivc to make it lefs ? To footh my forrows, all my cares employ, And in my cup of grief infufe one drop of joy ? MADNESS. Written on a Cliff at Cromer. NORGATE. HUSH, hufh, Eliza hufh, my love, nor 'wake, With heedlefs flep, yon melancholy form, In moody trance that fits let no rude noife Invade the folemn filence of his foul! Mark his wild front, Eliza, and his brows, That o'er twin glaring eye-balls grimly roll. Lift how the bleak winds whittle round his head, Lafh his gray locks, and chill his feeble form! 'Ti Madnefs' felf, that fighs the live-long night, And to the pale moon pours his forrowing fong. 'Twas erft, an aged ghoft embroil'd the night, When Julia, 'mid It the finking feamen's howl } Alone was Cleat was alone refign'd [ 95 1 And in a world of waters made her grave. The fhatter'd vcffel fank This wretch efcap'd, And no one liv'd to tell the fearful tale, Save his lorn felt ! P>ut ever iince, on yonder cragged cliff, \Vhen night rolls darknefs from her hundred hills, Bereft of reafon, this poor piteous foul Stalks fearlefs on the brink, and calls for Julia! Sometimes, when heav'n and earth fnould fcem con vuls'd ; Where ev'ry tougheft oak lies cleft in twain; "When the rough breakers climb againft the rock, And drink the ragged fplinters as they burft ; This child of phrenzy loves to fit alone, Weave the light fea-weed for his Julia's brow, Or, carelefs, fcatter round the filv'ry fand. And oft I've feen him too, in horrid joy, Play with the forked lightning's deadly flafh, And, with wild Itep, to the deep thunder dance. Sometimes, when filence fettles on the fea, And peaceful billows rock the world to fleep, With bofom bare, and haggard eye, pale cheek, And all the dread accompaniments ot woe, He tears his flefh, hurls the aftonifh'd flock Down the deep beach and, with ungrateful tooth, He gnaws the llaff that fav'd him from deftruftion. See, fee, Eliza now he bends his knee Now he calls Julia now again he runs To clafp a phantom fee, how, with fond embrace, He kiifes it and now, my love, he's happy! Ah! he flarts back and, with an angcr'd arm, Beats the infulting blail he feels, alas! That ev'ry faireft form eludes his grafp, That ev'ry Julia is an empty wind ! Poor foul ! thou haft no interval of peace ; For at the noon of night, when weary 'd age And love-fick youth lay in the lap of fleep Their languid head, thou ftalk'ft alone, and pour'it Thy mournful accent to the lift'ning winds! Or fhould thy reftlcfs brain, with ranting tir'd, Be lull'd one moment to torgetfulneis, The next is harrafs'd with tormenting dreams, So black, fo frantic, and fo deadly wild They mock imagination to conceive ! [ 9 J Come, come, Eliza, let us quit tliis dark, This melancholy fcene ; let us retire To our own peaceful hermitage, my love, And to the God of reafon pour our praiie. THEODOSIUS AND CONSTAXTIA. IF dreams of fancy footh the penfive heart, And woes fictitious pleating pains impart; How much more foothing is the tender tale, Where all th' unborrow'd charms of Truth prevail ! Sorrows well fung r from hift'ry's faithful page, Awaken fympathy, and vanquifh rage. Ye gen'rous few! whofe finer feelings move Refponfive to the joys and pangs of love. Attend the theme my plaintive mufe has chofc, Fam'd Theodofius and Conftamia's woes. Conceive a maid with ev'ry virtue crown'd Alike for beauty and for wit renown'd ; Where matchlefs fymmetry of form confpires To fufcitate and fpread love's dormant fires, Where fpeaking eyes, and mind-illumin'd face, Give foul to fnape, and dignity to grace: Such was Conftantia : but her fordid fire, Averfe to lib'ral love's refining fire, To freezing fiend-like avarice a flave, Sent her, love's viftim, to the gloomy grave. This beauteous virgin Theodofius woo'd, A youth with worth of early growth endu'd, Profoundly learned ; yet whole noble mind A place for hcav'n-defcendcd love could find : For in the bofom of the greatly wife, Venus and Mercury together rife. Soon in Conftantia's breaft his goodly frame And pleafing converfe fpread the gen'rous flame; But difagreement foul between their fires Pamp'd all the ardour of love's lib'ral fires. Then was the youth, to dire revenge a prey, Tom frym Isveet converfe with the fair away; C 97 ] And foon her father, whofe relcntlefs rage Nor tears could move, nor pity foft alluaic-, Refolv'd to facriiice her matchlefs charms, With brutal fury, to another's arms. But Theodofms, pjung'd in deep clcfpair, Soon in a letter thus addrefs'd the fair : <; Lovely Conftantia, or.ce my fav'rite theme, Is no\V; alas ! my mifery fupreme, Mu ft I then live, diftreffing thought! to fee Thole charms another's, once defign'd for me? Streams, fields, and meadows, where lo oft of love We talk'd delighted, now my torment prove ; Life's purple tides to me unwilling roll, Ar.d hope's lad ray expires within my foul. Farewell ! and ever happy may you be, Nor break your tranfport with one thought of me!" Diftrafted ns me read, the weeping fair Was now refoiv'd her father's rage to dare; And fooner with heroic courage die, Than with a marriage full of guiit. comply. But when the well beloved youth fhe heard, Had in the night's deep filence difappear'd, To Heav'n fhe vpw'd to confecrate her days, And fpend her time in penitence and praife. Now in a cloifter's folitary cell. Where barb'rous zeal and melancholy dwell. The beauteous maid immur'd. a prey to grief, Sought, in confeffion of her fins, relief. A priefl there was within the convent, fam'd For thoughts lublime, and Father Francis nam'd ; Him, kneeling, thus with agony opprefs'd, And drown'd in tears, the noble maid addrefs'd; *' My conduct has depriv'd of life, I fear. A youth, ah ! once to me how juflly dear ! Whofe well-taught mind wasgen'rous, brave, and free, And without iault, lave that ol loving me; For him my tears in ceafelefs torrents flow, And keen remembrance points the iting oi woe." While thus the beauteous mourner fought relief, The rev'rend priefl: was overwhelm'd with grief; Th'.-ir pod the pow'rs of life almoft forfook, Ar.d a-'onv ihe ieat beneath him fhook. [ 98 3 For now the fair Conflantia flood reveal'd To Theodofius, in the prieft conceal'd; Bi'.t ffudious to elude her fearching eyes, The father filill retahvd his dark difguife. His foul he mans with fortitude fevere, Coi lefts his thoughts, and checks the gufhing tcarf With accents mild, and words of fov'reign balm, Ke tries her grief to mitigate and charm. liis fpeech the tempeft of her grief reflrain'd, And her loft peace the maid awhile regain'd ; Next day, to heav'n and pure affeftion true, She took the veil, and bade the world adieu. Now by a letter, to the fair addrefs'd, The long-loll Theodofius flood confefs'd ; --And father Francis thus, in plaintive ftrains, Sooth'd the fair fource of all his joys and pains : * ; 'As the firft fruits of comforts ever thine, Since now the vot'ry of a life divine, Know Theodofius lives, and lives in me, Loft to the world's delights, dear maid ! for thee; Our difappointed love will prove our gain, And mutual joy fucceed to mutual pain." With tears of rapture, fuch as virtue gives, The fair one wept, and cry'd, " He lives, be lives! The pangs of hopelefs forrow now will ceafe, And life's lafl trembling flame expire in peace." De,ep in the cloifler's honid gloom immur'd, By walls of ftone, and maffy gates fecur'd, Ten years, compos'd of melancholy days, Conflantia fpent in penitence and praife; At length a fever, whofe devouring rage, With ruthlefs ravage (pares nor fex nor are, But brings to all an tmdiftinguifh'd doom, Swept gen'rous Theodofius to the tomb. But ere the vital fpark had wing'd its way, As on the bed of death he panting lay. In moving terms, life's feeble lamp jufl fpent, His benediclion to the fair he fent ; Who to the dire di Hem per now a prey, And verging fall tc5 death, delirious lay. Son.i r.s the abbefs told th' expiring maid, That the lov'd father in the duft was laid. And dving blefc'd her. me witli pleafure cry'd, *' Lti i,ie be bury'd by my lov'd out's fide ! [ 99 ] My vow extends no farther than trie grave, And this is all my fondeft wifh can crave." Stern gloomy zeal, relenting at the pray'r, This her lail wifh then gave the conilant fair. Their tomb proclaims them juflly, ftill we find, " Lovely while living, nor in death disjoin'd." A PARAPHRASE O.i the latter Part of the Sixth Chapter of St. Matthew. THOMSON. WHEN my bre?ft labours with cppreffive care, And o'er my cheek defcends the falling tear ; While all my warring paflions are at {trite, O. let me liilen to the words of Life! Raptures deep-felt his doclrine did impart, And thus he rais'd from earth the drooping heart. Think not, when all your fcanty {lores afford Is fpread at once upon the fparing board ; Think not, when worn the homely robe appears ; While on the roof the howling tempeft bears; What farther {hall this feeble life fulUin, And what {hall clothe thefc fhiv'ring limbs again. Say. docs not life its nouiifnnient exceed ? And the fair body its inverting weed ? Behold ! end look away your low defpair See the light tenants of the barren air ; To them nor Itores nor granaries belong, Naught but the woodland, and the pleafing fong ; Yet your kind heav'nly Father bend* his eye On the leail wing that flits along the fky. To him they fing when Spring renews the plain, To him they cry in Winter's pinching reign, Nor is their mufic or their plaint in vain : He hears the gay and the diitrefsful call, And with unlparhig bounty fills them all. Obferve the rifing lily's fnowy grace, Obferve the various vegetable race; They neither toil nor fpin, but carelefs grow, Yet fee how warm they blufli ! how bright they glow! [ 100 ] What regal veflments can with them compare ? What king fo faining! or what queen fo fair! If, ceafclcfs, thus the fowls of heav'n he feeds, If o'er the fields Inch lucid, robes hi: inroads Will he not care for you, ye faithlefs ! fay, Is he uawife ? or are' ye lei's than they ? ->$<- THE DEATH OF ALICO, ATI African Slivc, Condemned for Rebellion, in Jamaica, 176.1, EDWARDS. 'HHIS pad, ahf cnlm thy* cares to reft; JL Finn and untnov'd am I : In Freedom's caul'e I bar'd my bread. In Freedom's caufe I die. Ah, flop! thou cloft me fatal wrong; Nature will yet rebel ; For I have lov'd thee very long And lov'd thee very well. To native fides, and peaceful bow'rs, I foon fhall wing my wny ; Where joy fliall lead the circling hours, Unlefs too long they Hay. O fpeed, lair fun ! thy courfe divine; My ABALA remove : There thy bright beams fliall ever fhine, And. I lor ever love! On thofe blefs'd fliores a flave no more In peaceful eafe I'll ftray ; Or roule to chafe the mountain boar As unconftii'd as day. No Chriilian tyrant there is known To mark his ileps with blood, Xor fable Mis'ry's piercing moan Refounds through ev'ry wood. * He is fi:ppofed to aridrefs his wife at the place of i.xecuuon. [ tOl ] Yet I have heard the melting tongue, Have ieen the falling tear; Known the good heart by pity wrung; All ! tha: i'uch hearts are rare. Xow, ChrifUan, glut thy ravifli'd eyes I reach the joyful hour; Xow bid the fcorching flames arife, And thefe poor limbs devour: But know, pale tyrant, 'tis not thine Eternal war to wage; The death thou giv'ft fhall but combine To mock thy baffled rage. O Dezth, how welcome to th' opprelH Thy kind embrace I crave; Thou bring'ft to Mis'ry's bol'om reft, And Freedom to the {lave. STANZAS. i MRS. ROBINSO.V. FLY fwift, ye tardy, mournful hours, And waft upon your fombre wings Each cloud of dreary woe that low'rs, Each pang that from artedtion fprings! for though to others joy you bear, With love's belt wreath or llow'ret* gay; Though all around is rich and fair, 'Tis Hill to ME a winter's day. Fly, fummer gales, nor vainly fl-ek To cheer the breaft where grief refides. Nor drive to tint that pallid cheek Where forrow's tear each fmile derides, Ere autumn fpreads its glowing bloom, Life fades on Time's cleftrudUve wing, Yet Pity, pointing to the tomb, Bids Hope reveal eternal fpring! Then ccafe, ah! ceafe, my throbbing breaft ! To cherifh Mem'ry's penfive (hade; Ceafe to recall thefe moments bltt's'd, Whole vifions only fiioix to hdc : Let Apathy with freezing pow'r, Twine round thy fibres foft Repofr, And give to ev'ry iing'ring hour, That reft which paflion never knows. W EFFECTS OF WAR. ITH .e'ict'ririfj arms I faw the foldiers march With beans elate, and footfteps light as sir, Vaunting of victories, their anns would gain; Eager they fa! : d the trn ! Poll, after poft loon Lrincs a heavy tale, Though glofs'd \vil.!) v icVry, fstal to the peace Of fathers, mother';, 'children, wives, and fnends, Dead is the hrnd tl'r.t irr.g with labour fought To feed thj li:t!e ci'Spr^ig hov'rin.s; round : Vanifh'd the hope i'.r.: ioo'.tvd a parent's a^e; Sunder'd the tics o; f-j'.thful we-.ided love; And the d?s-: lon,t-i;>d friend for ever a-one. Such is the curie of vicVry ' - Kow review The horrors that attend an adverfe fate. The conq'rors ?re become the conquer'd now; See U":em letreat before a fo?. er.rag'd Bv unprovok'd affault. ?;id num'rous wrongs; Their inarches harnfs'd by th' advancing van, And lofs fuftain'd of men, of ftores. and arms. Famine and peuilcnce new horrors add, And fainting by the way leave many a wretch To linger out the fad remains of life, Hopclefs of better Lite, than that forr.e foe May kindly cut its thread, and end his pain. A fhatter'd remnant reach once more the fhore. 1'rom whence in health's fall tide they gayly ff.il'd : Once more their footfleps prefs their native land, And like a cordial draught thro;'f;h ev'ry vein rCew vigour flows, and warms thoir languid hearts. Impatient now each feeks i'lis iorig-lo!!; home, To chs.c:' tl;e breift that in his abfence nin'd i [ '03 ] And in the fond embrace each foon forgets The various forrows they have long endur'd. Not e'en the fickly face and mangled limb Check the pure joy that glows at his return. Terror had long fuggefted he was loft ; He is once more at home, and all feems well. If aught can damp his joy, it is the talc, The mournful tale, that he is doom'd to tell, Of his loit comrades in the fatal field, Blafting the ling'ring hope that yet furviv'd, And bade the anxious bofom daily watch for his return, who was its only joy. Long mould reflection in a monarch's mind Dwell on fuch themes. Then, ftrongly there imprefsM, War in its various horrors would appear: And if a fpark of virtue in him lives, Nature mult fhrink from fuch a thought accurft, As plunging nations in offenfrve war. EPITAPH On SAUNTERING JACK and IDLE JOAN. PRIOR. TNTERR'D beneath this marble ftone. A Lie fauntering Jack and idle Joan. While rolling years threefcorc and one Did round this globe their courfes run; If human things went ill or well ; If changing empires rofe or fell ; The morning pafs'd, the ev'ning came, And found this couple ftill the fame. They walk'd, and eat, good folks! what then.? Why then they walk'd and eat again. They foundly flept the night away ; They did juft nothing all the day ; And Iwving bury'd children four, Would not take pains to try for more. No fifter either had or brother; They fecm'd juil tally'd for each other. Their moral and economy Moil peifeftly they made agree; Each virtue kept its proper bound, Nor trcl'pafs'd on the ether's ground, Nor fame nor cenfure they regarded ; They neither punifh'd nor rewarded. Ke car'd not what the footmen did ; Her maids file neither prais'd nor chid; So ev'rv fervaat took his courfe; And bad at firfh. they all grew worfe. Slothful diforder fill'd his liable; And fiuttifh pler.ty deck'd her table. Their beer was ftrong, their wine was port; Their meal was large ; their grace was fhort. They gave the poor the remnant meat, Jiiit when it grew not fit to eat. They paid the church and parifh rate, And took but read not the receipt; For which they claim'd their funday's due, Of flumb'ring in an upper pew. No man's defects fought they to know; So never made themfelves a foe. No man's good deeds did they commend: So never rais'd their.i'elves a friend. Nor cherifh'd they relations poor, That mishit decreafe their prelent itore: Nor barn nor houfe did they repair, That might oblige their future heir. They neither added nor confounded ; They neither wanted nor abounded. Each Chriftmas they accounts did cK-ar, And wound their bottom round the year. Nor tear nor fmile aid they employ At news of public grief or joy. When bells were rung, and bonfires made, If afk'd they ne'er deny'd their aid ; Their jug was to the ringers carry'd, Whoever either died or marry'd. Their billet at the fire was found, Whoever was depos'd or crowii'd. Nor go K? nor bad, nor fools nor wife, They would not learn, nor could advilc; Without love, hatred, joy or fear, They ied a kind of ;:s it were Nor vviih'ci, nor car'd. nor lan^h'd, norcry'd; A.;u io thcyjiv'd ; and fo they d;tJ. [ '05 ] HUMAN LIFE. S'.VEET is* the futnmer's ev'ning, when the itorni Has fpent its iudden rage! pleaiant the dawn, The earlieit dawn of day, after a night Of darknels. when the morning's cheerful beam Makes the heart glad ! So, after forrows paft, My foul enjoys her ev'ning of repoie, With ftich delight as though that peaceful hour Reieas'd her from all ills. Alas! not iuch Her little hour of peace, 'tis but the reft Of one fore weary with long pilgrimage, Who lies him down beueath the made awhile, Soon to rife again, with forer fteps To toil along a way more difficult. ELEGY on a YOUNG LADY, \\~ho died foon after the Celebration of her Nuptials. MRS. WEST. ADMIR'D and loft, juft welcom'd and deplor'd, Com'it thou, fair nymph, to wake delight and grief; Like Lapland fummers, with each beauty ftor'd, Traniient like them, and exquifitely brief? Pale are thy coral lips, and clos'd thine eyes, Exprtffion fleeps and harmony is mute ; The ipoiler Death on each fine feature lies, Like blafling cankers on the choicefl fruit. I took thy hand ; it met my grafp no more With kindly warmth; inanimate it fell; I \vept; but fynipathy's mild reign is o'er, Nor can that icy brtalt refponhve fwell. To deck her tomb, appropriate emblems find ; White rofes blighted, with their buds embofs'd, The frail acacia broken by the wind, A::d myrtles fhrivelrd by protrafted fro ft. There wedded love, with torch rcvers'd, fhould ftsr.d, And gaze upon ti; ruin Death has mad,e; 9 While weeping virtues weave the cyprefs band, And foothe with dirges the repofmg fhade. There, whilfc differing to its parent duft, The eye re verts- from what it cjnce-sdor'd, Tin tb^ archangel, fummoning trie juft, Shall call the fleeper to attend her Lord. The lafk fhail o'er her chav.r.t his matin hymn, And houfehold red-breafl woo his fpeckled mate : The glow-worm, too, fhbll there 3t ev'nir.g trim His elfin taper in fepulchral ftate. With love urchang'd through many a varying year, At lined '"csfons. friendship fhall return, To plant frefh pofies round the honor.r'd bier, To weed the thiille that o'erhangs the urn. We rife progrcfiively, we bloom, and fade, And, having deck'd it, occupy the grave; Soon by the mourn'd the mourner fhall be laid, And aik the tribute fhe to others gave. Vain in our pleafures, vainer in our cares, Bound on the wheel of time we rife and fall; Yet prefent wrong Eternity repairs, The mighty emprefs and the judge of all. LINES TO MR. OPIE, On his having painted for her the Pifture of Mrs.Twift. MRS. OF1E. H\!L to thy pencil ! well its pleafmg art Has trae'd thofe features painted on my heart; Now, though in diftant fcenes fhe foon will rove, Still fhsll I here behold the friend I love; Still fee that fmile, " endearing, artlefs. kind," The eye's mild beam that fpeaks the candid mind, Which, fportive oft, yet fenrful to offend, By humoui charms, but never wounds a friend. But in my breaft contending feelings rife, While this lov'd femblance fafcinates my eyes ; Now pleas'd, I mark the painter's fkilful line, Now joy, becaufe the {kill I mark was thine : And while I prize the gift by thee beftow'd, My heart proclaims I'm of the giver proud. Thus pride and friendfhip war with equal ftrife, And now the friend exults, and now the wife. SONNET. SLAVERY. HOW oft, in leafon's fpite, muft we be told, (And told it too in Britain's lib'ral air,) By thole that Afric ? s fons in bondage hold, That better they than Scotia's pealants fare ! Could ye their hunger feed with fruits of gold, And liquid rubies for their drink prepare, All this for Freedom's feafl were richly fold, Which Nature's voice incites each fon to fhare. The naked wretch that drinks the torrent's tide, And picks his fcanty meal from fhrub or tree, While, unrellrain'd by Pow'r's tyrannic pride, O'er all the mountains he can wander free, Is happier far (in ev'ry manly mind) Than he that fumptuous fares, in SJav'ry's halls con- fin'd. ON FINDING A STRAYED CHILD* MISS DAYE. A Stem blown from its parent tree I planted in my humble bow'r; Sure it may grow to fhelter me From fcorching fun and dripping fhow'r! Stay, Madelina, child of woe, Thy little feet no more fhall roam; I faid, and faft as tears could flow, Mine fell, and pity took thee home. The dewy ground was then thy bed, Its canopy, the arch of heav'n; On a cold Hone red in M thy head, Thy mouldy fcvaps were hardly giv'it. Ill fuited was thy motley divfs, Refufc of infancy and age ; [ io8 ] So forted, as to fhow diflrefs, Not fcreen thee ifrom the tempeft's rage. But on thy face yet health could glow, There unreflecting fmiles were fecn : For tranfient joy Co temper'd woe, To cheer thy little heart within. By want torn from thy parent tree, Here, haplefs Madeline, come ; My little fhall be fhar'd with thee, I'll be thy parent here's thy home! LIXES on the CAPTURE of KOSCIUSKO. WHAT fpe&red form is that, with tearful eye, With heaving boforn, and with deep-drawn figh. Sorrowing in filence o'er the darken'd cell Where, Kofciuiko! thou art doom'd to dwell ? J Tis thou, loni Liberty! whom once I knew Cloth'd with the rofy morning's healthful hue, Sweep the wide woodlands, and with carols gay Swell the foft gales that ufher in the day ; 'Tis thou, lorn Liberty ! with anguifh wild Now weeping o'er thy fond, thy fav'rite child ! No common forrows hover round his head, All nature fickens, all her joys are fled : The moon extends a cold and dewy gleam, And the fun faddens with a languid beam ; Pale livid lightnings through the welkin fly, And pealing thunders fhake the fhudd'ring fky : O'er the wide concave no kind ftar is found, Night fpreads her darkeft, deepefl fhades around; The war-worn vet'ran pours his penfive moan, And in his leader's fate laments his own. Poor Kofciufko ! long fhall live thy fame, And future infants learn to lifp thy name ; Ages unborn fhall weep the hoftile deed, And curfe the ruffian hand that made thee bleed ! Shall mourn that morning, when the vital tide Pin pled thy limbs, and bubbled from thy fide. When firft on thee was pour'd the dungeon's gloom, Mocking the midnight darkncfs of the tomb ; C 109 ] On thee at once magnanimous and mild, In war a hero and in peace a child. O may that band, who once by thee infpir'd, By virtue fan&ion'd, and by freedom fir'd, Who oft with thee, on Vill'las winding banks, Vanquifh'd the warriors of proud Pruflia's ranks, Strike, with a patriot arm, their wond'ring foes, Weep o'er their country, but avenge her woes; May triumph wave each banner in the field, And frightful horror frown from ev'ry fhield ; And like a ftorm that fwells the troubled gale, Rolls down the hill, and fweeps along the vale, Cleaving in twain the foreft's trembling king, While the day darkens, and the mountains ring, While the hoarfe thunders with re-echoed roar, Crack the white cliffs, and roll around the Ihore; So may thy band, with firm collected force, Scour the wide plains, and conquer in their courfe; And, Kofciufko ! ere thy foul have fled To the dark, dreary manfions of the dead, By thee led on, by thee their vengeance hurl'd, Give tyrants death, and freedom to the world. HUMANITY. AH me ! how little knows the human heart, The plcafmg tafk of foft'ning others' woe ; Stranger to joy that pity can impart, And tears fweet fympathy can teach to flow ! Pity the man who hears the moving tale Unmov'd ; to whom the heart-felt glow's unknowa, On whom the widow's plaints could ne'er prevail, Nor made the good man's injur'd caufe his own. The fplendid dome, the vaulted roof to rear, The glare of pride and pomp be, Grandeur, thine : To wipe from mis'ry's eye the falling tear, And foothe th' opprellcd orphan's woes, be mine. Be mine the blufh of modeft worth to fpare ; To change to fmiles affliction's fifing ugh ; The kindred warmth of charity to mare, Till joy (hall fparkle from die tear-fill'd eye. [ 3 Can the loud laugh, the mirth-infpiring bowl, The dance, or choral fong, or jocund glee, Affect the glowing, fympathizing foul, Or warm the breaft, HUMANITY, likethee? THE SUMMER DAY. AH ! \vho beneath the burning ray, Can bear the long, the fummer's day ? "Who 'mid the dull and fcorching fun, Content his daily race will run ? And yet, when ; Winter's icy breath Flies o'er the white and frozen heath, The wand'rer fhudders to behold The dreary fcene, and fhrinks with cold. When drifted fnow acrofs the plain Spreads defolation's chill domain, The trav'ller fighs, and feems to fay, " Ah, would it were a fummer's day!" Yet, when the fun flames far and wide, He haftens to the wood's dark fide - And, fhelter'd by embow'ring trees, Sighs for the frefh and cooling breeze. When dufty roads impede his way, And all around the fervid ray Scorches the dry and yellow heath, Unvifited by zephyr's breath : - Or, when the torrent wildly pours, When the fierce blaft impetuous roars, Man ftill on changes fondly bent - Still murmurs, fad and difcontent. THE WINTRY DAY. IS it in manfions, rich and gay, On downy beds or couches warm, Th?.t Nr.ture owns the wir.try day, And fhrinks to hear the howling ftorm ? Ah, no ! 'Tis on the bleak and barren heath, Where Mis'ry feels the {hafts of Deafly As to the dark and freeeing gra*e Her children not a friend to lave Unheeded go ! Is it in chambers, filken drefs'd, At tables with Profufion's heap ; Is it on pillows fofi to reft, In dreams of long and balmy flecp ? Ah, no! 'Tis in the rufhy hut obfcure, Where Poverty's low ions endure, And, 1'carcely daring to repine, On a draw pallet, mute, recline, O'erwhelm'd with woe! Is it to flaunt in warm attire, To laugh and feaft, and dance and Cng; To crowd around the blazing five, And makt- the roof with revels ring? Ah, n i.) ! 'Tis on the piifon's flinty floor 'Tis wriL-re the deaf 'ning whirlwinds roar, 'Tis when the fea-boy, on the raaft, Hears the waves hounding to the olaft, And looks below ! Is it in chariots gay to ride, To crowd the 'plendid midnight ball, To revel in luxurious pride, While pamper'd vaflals wait your call ? Ah, no! 'Tis in a cheerlefs, naked room, Wheie Mis'ry's viclims wait their doona ; Where a (ond mother famifh'd dies, While forth a frantic father iLes, Man's defp'ratc foe! Is it where, prodigai and weak, The hlly fpendthrift fcatters gold, Where eager Folly haftes to feek The fordid wanton, faife and bold ? Ah, no! 'Tis in the filent fpot obfcure, Where, forc'd all lorrows to endure, Fale Genius learns, O lell'm fad ! To court the vain, and on the bad Falfe praife belle v/ ! [ 112 ] Is it where gamefters, thronging round. Their fhining heaps of wealth difplay i 1 Where Fafhion's giddy tribes are found, Sporting their fenfelefs hours away ? Ah, no! 'Tis where neglecled Genius fighs ; Where Hope, exhaufted, filent dies ; Where Merit flarves, by Pride opprefs'd, Till ev'ry ftrcam that warms the breall Forbears to flow ! VERSES on the DEATH of his MOTHER. THOMSON. YE fabled mufes, I your aid difclaim. Your airy raptures, and your fancy'd flame ; True genuine woe my throbbing breaft infpires, Love prompts my lays, and filial duty fires ; The foul fprings initant at the warm defign, And the heart diftates ev'ry flowing line. See, where the kindeft, beft of mothers lies, And death has fhut her ever-weeping eyes ; Has lodg'd, at laft, peace in her weary breaft, And lull'd her many piercing cares to reft. No more the orphan train around her Hands, While her full heart upbraids her needy hands; No more the widow's lonely fate fhe feels, The fhock fevere that modeft want conceals, Th ! oppreffor's fcourge, the fcorn of wealthy pride, And poverty's unnumber'd ills befide; Tor, fee ! attended by th' angelic throng, Through yonder worlds of light fhe glides along, And claims the well-earn'd raptures of the fky. Yet fond concern recalls the mother's eye ; She feeks th' unfriended orphans left behind, So hardly left! fo bitterly refign'd ! Still Hill is fhe my foul's divineft theme, The waking vifion, and the wailing dream : Amid the ruddy fun's enliv'ning blaze, O'er my dark eyes her dewy image plays ! And in the dread dominion of the night Shines out again the fadly-pleafmg fight; [ "3 ] Triumphant virtue all around her darts, And more than volumes ev'ry look imparts ; Looks, foft, yet awful ; melting, yet fcrene ; Where both the mother and the taint arc feen. But. ah ! that night that tort'rinj; night remains, May darknefs dye it with its deeped ftains ! May Joy on it forfake her rofy bow'rs, And itreaming Sorrow blaft its baleful hours ! "When on the margin of the briny flood, Chiii'd with a fad prefaging damp, I flood ; Took the laft look, ne'er to behold her more. And mix'd our murmurs with the wavy roar; Heard the laft words fall from her pious tongue, Then wild into the bulging veffel flung, "Which foon, too foon. convey'd me from her fight, Dearer than life, and liberty, and light! Why was I then, ye pow'rs! referv'd for this, Nor funk that moment in the vaft abyfs ? Devourd at once by the reientlels wave, And whelm'd for ever in a wat'ry .grave ? Down, yc wild wifhes of unruly woe ! I fee her with immortal beauty glow ; The early wrinkle, care-contracted, gone, Her tears all wip'd, and all her forrows flown : Th' exulting voice of heav'n I hear her breathe, To foothe her foul in agonies of death. I fee her through the manfions blefl above, And now fhe meets her dear expcfting love. Heart-cheering fight, but yet, alas ! o'erfpread By the damp gloom of grief's unchcering fhade. Come then of reafon the reflecting hour, And let me truft the kind o'er-ruling Pow'r, "Who from the night commands the mining day, The poor man's portion and the orphan's ilay ! RETIREMENT. WHEN in the crimfon cloud of even The ling'ring light decays, And Hefper on the front of heaven His gliu'ring gem difplays; C 4 J Deep in the filent vale, unften, Bcftde a lulling ftream, A pcnfive youth, ot" placid mien, Indulg'd this tender theme. Ye cliffs, in hoary grandeur pil'd High o'er the giimm'ring dsle, Ye woods, along whofe windings wild Murmurs the lolemn gale; Where Melancholy ftrays forlorn, And Woe retires to weep, \Vhat time the wan moon's yellow horn, Gleams on the weftern deep : To you, ye waftcs, whofe artlefs charms Ne'er drew Ambition's eye, 'Scap'd a tumultuous world's alarms, To your retreats I fly. Deep in your mod fequefter'd bow'r Let me at lail recline, Where Solitude (mild modefh pow'r.) Leans on her ivy'd fhrine. How fhail I woo thee, matchlefs fair ? Thy heav'nly fmile how win ? Thy fmile, that fmooths the brow of Care, And ftills the ftorm within. O, wilt thou to thy fav'rite grove Thine ardent vot'ry bring. And blefs his hours, and Did them move, Serene, on filent wing. Oft let remembrance footh his mind With dreams of former days. When !n the lap of Peace reclin'd, He fram'd his infant lays. When Fancy rov'd at large, nor Care Xor cold Diltnift alarni'd. Nor Err-y, with malignant glare, Kis funple youth had harm'd. 'Twas then, O Solitude! to thee His eaily vows were p.'id, From heart fmcere, and warm, and free, Devoted to the fhade. Ah! why did Fate his (leps decoy In Jlonny paths to roam, Remote from al! congenial joy ? O. take tl.c wand'rer home ! [ "5 ] Thy fhades, thy iilence, now be miur, Thy charms my only theme; My haunt, the hollow cliff, whofe pine Waves o'er the gloomy ftream, Whence the Icar'd owl, on pinions gray, Breaks from the ruftling boughs, And down the lone vale fails away To more profound repofe. O, while to thee the woodland pours Its wildly-warbling fong, And balmy from the bank of flow'rs The zephyr breathes along; Let no rude found invade from far, Xo vagrant foot be nigh, No ray from Grandeur's gilded car Flam on the ftartled eye : But if fome pilgrim through the glade Thy hallow'd bow'rs explore, O, guard from harm his hoary head, And liften to his lore; For he of joys divine fhall tell, That wean from earthly woe, And triumph o'er the mighty ipell That chains this heart below. For me no more the path invites, Ambition loves to tread; Xo more I climb thofe toilfomc heights, By guileful Hope mifled; Leaps my fond flutt : ring heart no more To Mirth's enliv'ning ftrain ; For prefent plcafure foon is o'er, And all the pafh is vain. ADDRESS TO PARENTS. OYe ! whofe knees a youthful progeny climbs, While mirth, the fruit of innocence and love, Dimples their cheeks, and fhuts their laughing eyes, Think on your charge ! Fait as th" expanding mind Imbibes the leffon, fr-jm her fount above Bid Truth in ampler ftream infufe her lore. C 6 1 Lfavr not in vernal dawn, when life invokes Your cult'riiig hand, the vacant field a prey To v/ceds quick fprouting : plant with earlieff: care The feeds you moft defire fhould fill the foil ; Arc! nurfe, -with zeal proportion'd to its worth, F.r"'i rifing produce. Teach your infant race, That 'tis not theirs, like fongfters of the grove, 15o rn but to fport and flutter for a day, To doat on vain and tranfitory joys. Teach them the harder, nobler tafk decreed To prove the fons of Adam. Teach them love Supreme of God, and, next to God, of man. Teach them, 'tis theirs, in arduous conflict rang'd 'Gair.it fin and pow'rs of darknefs. to make known Their firm allegiance to the King of Kings. Teach them, though weak, to triumph in the ftrength Omnipotence, fpeftator of the war, At fupplication'* cry delights to yield The faithful combatant; while heav'n fpreads wide Her glories, and difplays the viftor's crown, A crown eternal ; and beneath, hell yawns Jni'atiate, thunders through each quiv'ring gulf, And heaves the floods of c\er-during fire. CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. COWPER. I Would not enter on my lift of friends fTho' grac'd with polifh'd manners and fine fenfe, Yet wanting fenfibility,) the man Who needlefsly fets foot upon a worm. An inadvertent ftep may crufh the fnail, That crawls at evening in the public path ; But he that has humanity, forewarn'd, Will tread afide, and let the reptile live. The creeping vermin, loathlome to the fight, And charg'd perhaps with venom, that intrudes, A vifitor unwelcome, into fcenes S?crcd to neatnefs and repofe, th' alcove, The chamber, or refectory, may die: A nereffary al incurs no blame. Not lo, when held within their proper bounds., And guiltlefs of offence, they range the air, Or take their pr.flhne in the fpccious ikld : [ "7 3 There they are privileg'd : and he that litints, Or harms them there, is guilty of a wrong; Dillurbs th' economy of Nature's realm, Who when me forr.'d, defign'd them an abode. The I urn is this : If man's convenience, healt!i 4 Or i'afety interfere, liis rights and claims Are paramount, and muft extinguifh theirs: Elfe they are all the meaneit things that are, As free to live, and to enjoy that life, As God was tree to form them at the firft, Who in his fov'rirign wifdom form'd them all. Ye therefore who love mercy, teach your fijus To love it too. >*<-- NATURE. sr T~MVAS on a cliff whofe rocky bafe _L Baffled the briny wave; Whofe culter'd heights their verdant {lore To many tenant gave. A mother led by ruftic cares, Had wander'd with her child ; Unwcan'd the babe yet on the grafs He frolick'd and he fmil'd. With what delight the mother glow'd To mark the infant's joy; How oft would paufe, amidft her toil, To contemplate her boy. Yet foon, by other cares eftrang'd, Her thoughts the child forfook ; Carelcls he wanton'd on the ground, Nor caught his mother's look. O ropp'd was each flow'r that caught his eye, Till, fcrambling o'er the green, lie gain'd the cliffs unfhelter'd ed^e, And pleas'd furvey'd the fcenc ! 'Twas now the mother, ffom her toil, Turn'd to behold her child The uichin gone! her checks were flufh'd Her wand ring eye was wild! She faw him on the cliff's rude brink Now cardefs peeping o'er lie turn'd. and to his mother finil'd, Then fported as before. Sunk was her voice 'twas vain to fly 'Twas vain the brink to brave O nature ! it was thine alone To prompt the means to fave! She tore the kerchief from her bread, And laid her bofom bare: He faw delighted left the brink, And fought to banquet there. BURLESQUE of HORACES OTIUM DIVOS. Written at the Mohawk Caftle, in the Year 1761, by the elder Capt. Morris and fent to his Friend Lient. Montgomery, afterwards a General Officer in the American fervice, and killed at the Siege of Que- bec. EASE is the pray'r of him, who, in a whale-boat, Croffing lake Champlain, by a ftorm's o'ertakcn; Not ftruck his blanket,* not a friendly ifland Near to receive him. Eafe is the v/ifh too of the fly Canadian ; Eafe the delight of bloody Caghnawagas; Eafe. Richard, eafe, not to be bought with wampum. Nor paper-money. Not colonel's pay, nor yet a dapper ferjeant, Orderly waiting with recover'd halberd, Can chafe the crowd of troubles, ilill furrounding Lac'd regimentals. That Sub lives bed. who, with a fafli in tatters, \Vorn by his grandfne at the fight of Blenheim, To fear a ftranger, and to wild ambition, Snorts on a bcar-fkin. Why, like fine fellows, are we ever fchcming ? We fhort-Iiv'd mortals! why lo fond of climates \Vann "d by new funs? O, who that runs from home, can Run from liiinfclf too ? * The foldier's blanket ; ufcd by the army as it fill. Care climbs radeauxt with four-and-twentyponnder, Nor quits our light troops, or our Indian warriors ; Swifter than mooie-deer, or the fleeter eaft wind Pulhing the clouds on. He, whofe good humour can enjoy the prefent, Scorns to look forward ; with a fmile of patience Tempering the bitter. Blifs uninterrupted None can inherit. Death inilantaneous hurry'd off Achilles ; Age far-extended wore away Tithonus : Who will live longer, thou or I, Montgomery? Dicky or Tommy ? Thee twenty mefs-mstes, full of noife and laughter, Cheer with their (allies ; thee the merry damfels Pleafe with their titt'ring; while thou fitt'il adorn'd. with Boots, fafh, and gorget. Me to Fort Hendrick, 'midft a favage nation, Dull Connajhory. cruel fate has driven. O, think oil Morris, in a lonely chamber. Dabbling in Sapphic ! On the DEATH of THOMSON". The Scene of the following Stanzas is fuppofed to lie on the Thames, near Richmond. IN yonder grave a Druid lies, Where flowly winds the Healing wave ; The year's beft fweets mall duteous rife, To deck its poet's fylvan grave. In yon deep bed of whifp'ring reeds His airy haip* mall now be laid, That he whofe heart in forrow bleeds, May love through life the foothing fhade. Then maids and youths mail linger here; And while its founds at diftance fwtll, t Floating batteries; iifed on lake Champlain, The harp of /Eolus, deRribtcl ia the Caftle of Indulcncr. [ ,20 ] Shall fadly feem, in Pity's ear, To hear the woodland pilgrim's knell. Kemembrance oft fhall haunt the (ho re. When Thames in Cummer wreaths is dieiVd, And oft fufpend the darning oar, To bid his gentle fpirit ref'c. And oft as Eafe and Health retire To breezy lawn or fore 11 deep, The friend fhall view yon whit'ning fpirc,* And 'mid the vary'd landlcape weep. But thou who own'ft that earthly bed, Ah! what will ev'ry dirge avail ? Or tears which Love and Pity fned, That mourn beneath the gliding fail ? Yet lives there one, whofe heed'efs eye Shall fcorn thy pale fhrine glimm'ring near; With him. fweet bard ! may fancy die, And joy delert the blooming year. But thou, lorn ftream ! whofe fullen tide No iedge-crown'd fifters now attend, Now waft me from the green hill's fide, \Vhofe cold turf hides the bury'd friend. And fee! the fairy vallies fads, Dun night has veil'd the folemn view; Yet once again, dear parted fhade ! Meek nature's child ! again adieu. The genial meads, affign'd to blcfs Thy life, fhall mourn thy early doomf ; Their hinds and fhepherd-girls fhall dreis, With fimple hands, thy rural tomb. Long, long thy ftor.c and pointtd clay ^h.all melt the muling Briton's eyes ; " O vales, and wild woods!" fhall he fay, ' li\ yonder grave your Druid lies." * Richmond church, in which Mr.Thomfon was buiiccl. t Mr.Thomfon rcfided in t!ie ncighhour'iood of Ridi- mond fomc time before lib death. A PINDARIC ODE TO SCIENCE. THERE are who fkim the ftream of life-, And catch delight from ev'ry paffing gale; No dok'iul founds their ears affail, Nor heed they nature's flrife. Bright Ikies illume their dawning day, While muuc wakes its magic powers ; No clouds obilruft their noon-tide ray, And to foft meaiures move their evening hours. Gayly its courle the motley vcffel glides, As Pleafure at the helm, a laughing beauty, guides. Their deflin'd courfe fome lonely bend, And no propitious gales attend ; While direful notes are heard from far, The fcream of woe, the din of war: 'Midll itruggling florins their mornings doubtful rife, Sullen and llo\v proceed their hours along ; 'Midlt fcowiing tempclts cloie their weftern flcies", Nor foodies their ears the cheerful voice of fong. lint, lo ! the fons of Genius {land, And Science open fpreads her volume fair, And Friendship wnves her hand To check the child of Mirth, to footh the child of Care; Nature aflumes her fmiling form, "Like Ocean refling from a florin : From diftant India's pearly fhorcs, From myftic Egypt's latent Mores, Or whcie, in Gvacia's tuneiul groves, The graces wanton with the Loves, Lo ! Science comes. ?.nd t?kes her awful feat, While Genius glides along her queen's advance to jjreet. The blooming wreath of rapt'rous praife Now weave with varied fkill and confcious pride, As when near Pifa's laurell'd fide. The Theban wove the living bays : Of brow feiene. aiul port fubliire, Immortal Science, hail ! To thse, Bright with the fpoils of ancient Tin-.e; \Ve yield the crown, we bend the viliing knee. . To ih.-t: t!ie Virtues all obetver.t rife, And Trtith, with unveil'd face, and cksr, unclouded eyes. ' C 122 ] < Ye fons of Mirth and fons of Cart-, I the bow'r of blifs prepare; Near me flream ambrofial fhowers, Near me bloom immortal flowers : Oh ! hither then your erring courtes bend ; Were Mirth's wild crew may haply find a friend ; Soon near my fide fhall Care forget to grieve, And pining Melancholy dare to live." Thus Science fpakc aloud when, lo ! By Fancy's eye were feen the facred choir, That taught with vivid glow The canvas firft to fhine, that wak'd the melting lyre ; And round and round their queen they move, Symphonious to the voice of Love. Nor did in vain the thrilling datt Of Muhc pierce the captiv'd heart, Till ev'ry difcord died away, As clouds before the folar ray; Through the wide earth th' harmonic chords refound, While Rapture lifts her voice, and Goodnels fniiles around. THE ILLUMINATION. WHAT mean thefe fhowy, and thefe founding figns Of gen'ral joy, jny fenfes that falute? That bid my brow be fmooth, and bofom bound, And all my heart be holiday ? What means The cannon's roar, that rends the fhatter'd iky ? The fturtning peal the merry fteeples pour ? At dead of night, along the Harry ftreet, This flaring luxury of feftive light, From ev'ry. window flung? Wherefore thus laughs The hour of gloom ? Now that " the midnight bell Does with his iron tongue and brazen mouth Strike one," why walks abroad th' undrowfy world ? Night's ghofts and goblins, groans and fhadows dire, All fhone &way. that e'en unfnudd'ring walks Bold Superftition foiih ? " why is proud Nig lit Attended with the pleafurcs of the world, Thus all fo wanton and ;;;l the fteepk-s pour; For this dun night her raven hue reiigns, And, in this galaxy of tapeis prpnk'd. Mimics meridian ci?y! hence the Iv.gh joy, That calls the city's fvvarms from out their ceils, I aug'tis iu each eye. and dances in e.-ch iwait. l j :olom;s their vigils, and fliakes 0:1 die dews, Tht hov'iing Sleep from oit her wings lets fjll On tiie'i! i'glit lids, thai will not lei lie uii : tra The poppy drops, the high excitement fuch f All to the fcaft, the feaft of blood ! repair. The high, the low, old men and prattling babes-, Young men and maidens, all to grace the fealt. Light-footed trip, the feaft, the feaft of biood ! But here comes one, that feems to out-rejoice All the rejoicing tribt ! wild is her eye, And frantic is her air, and fanciful Her fable fuit, and round fhe rapid rolls Her beauteous eyes upon the fpangled ftreet, And drinks with greedy gaze the fparkling fcene. And, "Sec!" fhc cries, " how they have grac'd the hour That gave him to his grave ! Hail, lovely lamps ! In honour of that hour, a grateful land Hath hung aloft! and fure he well deferves The tributary fplendour for he fought Their battles well Oh, he was valour's fclf ! Brave as a lion's was my Henry's heart ! fierce was the look with which he fac'd the foe; But on his Harriet when my hero beat it. 'Twas fo benign! and beautiful he was And he was young too young in years to die. 'Twas but a little while his wing had thrown Its guardian fliadow o'er me but 'tis gone; Fall'n is my fhield Yet fee now rf I weep A Britifh warrior's widow mould not weep ; Her hero fleeps in honour's fragrant bed So they all tell me and I've nobly learn'd Their gallant leffon all my tears are gone Bright glory's beam has dry'd them every drop ! No, no, I fcorn to weep high is mine heart ! Hot are mine eyes ! there's no weak water there ! 'Tis true, I fhcuild have joy'd what mother would not ? To fhow him that fweet babe, o'er which he wept When lafh he kifs'd it yes, he did he wept ! My warrior wept! as the weak woman's tears From off this cheek, where now I none can feil, He kifs'd away, he wet it with his own. Oh ! yes, it would 'twould have been iweet to fhow ' him, How his dear lovely boy had grown, fince he Beheld it cradled, and to bid it call him By the fweut name that I had taught it utter In fofteft tones, while he was thunder hearing, And thunder hurling round him for his hand Would not be idle amid deeds of glory Yes glory, glory, glory is the word Sec, how it glitters all along the ftreet !" And then fhe laughs, and wildly leaps along, With treffes all untied. Fair wretch, adieu ! In mercy Heav'n thy fhatter'd peace repair! On ;/ic INSTITUTION of a SUNDAY-SCHOOL, at CROMFORD, BY SIR RICHARD ARKWRICHT. Written by one educated in a fimilar Seminary. LEARNING, thou brighteft excellence ! great gift! (The greateft men enjoy, being well applied) By thee we mount, and leave the dark obfcure, And fee the clouds of ignorance diffolve. A grateful tribute let me offer up, Though from my youthful, unfledg'd genrus pour'd, To him, through whole affiftance I am taught The uie and knowledge of this heavenly art. ARKWRICHT! to thee, great patron, this I owe, That I'm enabled thus to ule my pen; Weak though it is, I can it not withhold .From giving piaile where 'tis io jaflly due. Great benefaftor! emulation's charm.! That opes the path the affluent mufl tread : For none can lee that generous turn ol mind, Intent on inftitutiens noble wile To train the youth, and fit them tor the world, But mult deiire to fhare fuch bleft applauie. The lichcfl diamond from Golr.onda's mines Might oft unnotic'd in the rubbifh lie, If 'twas not for the artill. But by him Th' imrinfic value of the gem is prov'd ; Under his hand the duflcy pebble dunes, Anu l/ughum into beams of glcamy fire. Thou greater artift ! whofe directing hand Calls forth and brightens reafon's heavenly ray, Calming rough tempers, (through inflruftion given By able teachers, in thy Sunday-School,) Whofe boifterous natures might alarm the world, Which now are foften'd into love and peace. Bleft inftitution ! blefl the liberal hand Which bounteoufly fnpports that noble plan ; And ever prais'd that God whofe gracious power Has given, with riches, fuch a noble foul, Infpii'd with notions for the nobleft end, As teaching thoughtlefs youth themfelves to know. On the DEMISE of the CZiARINA. By DAVID LEWIS, of BELMONT, near KNARESBRO', A RUSTIC BARD. SURELY the Emprefs is not dead ! Folks take delight to lie. What ! me of all the Ruflias head ? Would fhefubmit to die ? The mighty empire which fhe rul'd With arbitrary fway, Would fhe refign ? and thus be fool'd To fleep among the clay ? What! cOuld not fhe, by wealth and powY, Bribe Death t' avert her doom ? Nor wejltrrlror pow'r can rule the hour That calls us to the tomb. Thoufands of valiant men have died Her empire. to maintain ! To fpread her pow'r, to fwell her pride, And is it all in vain ? Could they not find one loyal Have, With fentence on his head, His Amazonian queen to fave, And pevifh in her {lead ? [ 1*7 ] No : each mud die the death himfelf ; Each miift fubmit to fate ; -for had Dcnth been a venal elf, He'd fpar'd the lite of Kate. AN ODE TO THE MOON. BY THE SAME. HAIL, filver Moon ! whofe gentle light Difpels the horrors of the night, And diilipates the gloom ; It is by thy reflecting ray The trav'ller marks the doubtful way, And gains his wifh'd-for home. Arifing yonder eaftern brow O'er the well-cultur'd vale below Projects a folemn made : Afcending ftill, with brighter beams, Thou danceft in the lucid flrearns, . Or glimmer'ft through the glade. At eve I will thy courfe purfue, While diamonds glitter in the dew, Or fparkle in the froft, And contemplate on all around, In meditation moil profound, Until in wonder loft. ' Thou aid'ft the failor, on the deep, Tiom rocks and fhoals his courfe to keep, In the nocturnal hour : Where'er thou com'ft, ;Iie tides arile ; The feas aicend to meet the fkies, By thy attractive pow'r. The darken'd nations bow'd the knee, And facred honours jjid to thce, Unto thy M-'.ker due ; But, in this more enlighten'd sge, We read tliec as H !:cav'aly page Expanded 10 the viev/. To thee I will the tube dirift, And iTiErk die wondciful cuect- Of au attentive look ; [ 128 ] With Herfchell, all thy lands explore, Survey thy feas, and trace each more, And fee thy mountains f'moke. Without the folid wall of proof, Imagination climbs the roof, And lunar turrets fees ; Where fcience, doubtlefs, has its birth, Whence artifts view this monftrous earth, Our Alps, or our Andes. A FRAGMENT, Addrcffed to a Lady, on the fudden Lofs of Four Children, by the Sinal!-Pox. >ERENE the night, While, from the firmament, the moon's full orb Cheer'd Nature's face, and filver'd ev'ry brook * Save when a little intervening cloud Stole o'er its furface, and obfcur'd its light ; But, when the vvand'ring vapour difappear'd, The filver planet (hot new glories forth. As if retirement added to her charms. And thus the good man's fame (when envy's blaft Prcfumes to dim its native radiant hue) Awhile retires, till truth remove the veil, And bid frefh luftre from concealment fpring. While thus I mus'd, a broken, plaintive voice .Rous'd me from thought, and drew my fight to where, Againft a rock (whofe bold projecting top Shadow'd the plain) a weeping female lean'd : At times, file rais'd her piteous eyes to heav'n, As if complaining, but as oft withdrawn, They feem'd to fink into the earth below ; And feek a refuge in the graves of thofe, Whofe deaths untimely, foon'I learn'd, fhemourn'd: For fomet'ines flic would heave a deep-fetch'd figh, And fadly murmur, " Where are my deareft joyi! Where are ye now, my children are ye gone!" Then, fca>cc!y confcious of the mournful tafk, Unmindful what flic did, with vacant eye, C "9 J Upon the fandy (helving of the rock, i.he trac'd their lov'd initials when at once, As though a ray of heav'nly light had beam'd Acrofs her foul, fhe upward look'd. reiign'd, And. as reflection taught her, thus me (pake : t; If Heav'n has call'd t!-.ctn to the narrow hovfe, It is the pnth to blifs. Then why, my foul, Shotildll thou repine, when thoie ib dearly lov'd Are happy, far beyond thy itretch of thought : Perhaps, e'en now, with pity they look down On thy miftaken grief and, with a finile, Anticipate the time when thou (halt ioin The (acred choir who, with ccftatic love. Proclaims the praife of him, whofe mercy far Exceeds e'en all the fins of this frail earth !" Then, while the theme bade joy illume her eve, She left the place, and me who fix'd in thought Rernain'd. till iudden, from a neighb'ring tow ; r, A bell juft. broke the awful filence round, And toll'd the hour of reit. ELEGY. THE COMPLAINT. f ( A H ! why along the chill and dreary vale, jLX Is drooping Genius deftin'd ftill to roam, And tell, in murmurs, to the fighing gale, That forrow in her heart has found a home ? That fortune, finking from the wretch diftrcfs'd, On guilt and folly bids her influence fhine As gold refought within it owner's breaft, The drofs and darknefs of its native mine! That worth but enters life to work and weep, For whom no flow'rs but thofe of fancy bloom: To dive amid a wild and ftormy deep, 'In fearch of gems, to glitter on his tomb. Ye foris of fcience! quench the facred fire, For me no more awake the vocal mcll ; Let fordid gain your Hooping Jouls inipire, And bid the foaring dreams of hope farewell. The molten idol of the world behold ; Its altar raisM on Virtue's ruiu'd Ihvincl Co, join in wormip to the Calf of Gold! Be rich and happy when no ion.;er For what avails it, though that world prefent The meed of glory, in an empty name ? A moment's breath, for years of labour fpent, A bubble floating on the blatt of Fame : Whofe echoing trumpet, and \vhofe laurel crown-, But form a trophy o'er a bafelefs throne ; Where fhines one hour the pageant ot renown, The next deep funk in poverty unknown : Xo pleafure meets his melancholy g?ze ; But, to reflect, 'tis not for him to urte; The prey of mifery, the theme of praife, He looks at heav'n but treads a barren wafte ; Curs'd by the pity of pretended friends, His morbid nerves deep thrill'd with mental pain; Till o'er his clay the i'pendid tomb afcends. And pride bellows v.'hat virtue begg'd in vain." Thus broke the fbrrov.-s of th' indignant mufc. Tracing with devious iteps the twilight gro.'e; And loft amid the evil which purfues Th' afpiring children of her ardent love. Ro-as'd by her grief, flrong fancy's eagle eyc- Tranfpierc'd the darkly-doting veil of And, lo ! a vifionary fair* drew nigh, Before a couutkfs train, half funk from The drooping phantom feem'd the form of woe, OtF'ring at forrow's fhrine the nightly tear; Hiifh'd were the winds, as tremulous and flow Thele mournful accents caught my lift'ning ear : " Congenial horrors, hail ! yet wherefore reft, Ye. venerable fhades in nature's fleep ? Ah) yield your quiet to my troubled bread, Or feel, like that, the raging whirlwinds fweep. Alike we glqvy'd in the pride of May, And fortune's fmiles, and nature's feafon o'er, Alike our fummer friends have fall'n away But fall'n with me to renovate no more. * Charlotte Smith. K'sh ?.s your grrer. leaves wsv'd in vernal ikies, With me the lnuU f genius wak'd to birth ; And rapture mark'd the blufh'mg tn;l;agc rile. Court the warm !un, and fcorn the distant earth! But fickle was the Hope, by lorrow crofs'd. And. tranfient was the ray which nurs'd its blooju Anticipating time, a killing fro It, Has ilrew'd the fpo;l on expectation's tomb ! O SennbiRy! thou cliild of Joy! Ho\v loll thy nature, and how chsng'd thy part! No never fhali return that fond employ \Vhich once endear'd thee to this (anguine heart; When 'twas but thine the trembling wifh to frame, To thiill the nerves, the virgin blufii to move To waken friendfhip's pure unburning flame, Or kindle rapture at the torch oP'love. Now, leagu'd with poverty, thy hands prepare A ling'ring pniloa for my cup of woe; Or wide expand the portals of Defpair, And beck'ning point the gloomy void below ! Say, what your gifts, ye mufes, now avail, The poet's feeling, and the poet's fire ? But keener panjjs they teach me to bewail, But deeper lamentations they inlp'ue. Perhaps a fcanty pittance they fupply ! But bitter is ths talk, with throbbing head, Our right withheld by profp'rous villainy. To earn, by mental toil, our daily bread : In fludy to confume the checrlefs day, To add its gains to Fortune's fcanty ftore,- And. weeping, pidture to the young and gay, Joys which this breaking heart can know no more ; for pale Dileafe has ftol'n the fcythe of Time, And low my fav'rite flow'r is laid in dud. Pride of my days to wither in her prime! But Heav'n has feen my wrongs, and will be juft^ Like the poor bird's my fate, which o'er the main, In adverfe winds, attempts fome dillant coafl ; And plies his weary wings, buf plies in vain, Ar.iid the bouudlefs wlle of waters loft; Xo land in view, to fome lone rock he doers, There, fhiv'ring, hears the dorm of night urife But ere t!:e pallid beam of morn appears. Plung'd in the wave, th' exhaufted fuiPivr dies." Ah. ceafe thy drain ! thou injur'd mourner, ceafe! May brighter, happier profpets yet be thine ; Way yet thy woe-fraught bofom talle of peace, And fortune and defert for once combine. Severe the trials which thy virtue bore, By turns affail'd by grief, difeafe. and pain ; But loon, each fuff'ring pail, each labour o'er, May they no, let their memory remain. For here recurring oft, with penfive eye, Thy pleafurcs fhall affume a fairer form ; As vernal flow'rs difplay a brighter die, While yet we fh udder at the wintry dorm. TO A YOUXG LADY, CURLING ,IXD POWDZRIXG HER HAIR, N' 'O longer feek the needlefs aid Of ftndious ait, dear lovely maid ! Vainly, from fide to fide, forbear To fhift thy glafs, and braid each draggling hair. As the gay flow'rs. which nature yields. Spontaneous, on the vernal fields, Delight the fancy more than thofe \Vhich gardens trim arrange in equal rows ; As the pure rill, wliofe mazy train The prattling pebbles check in vain, Gives native pleafure. while it leads Its landom waters, winding through the meads; As birds, the groves rnd ftreams among, In artlefs drains the vernal long V.'nblmg. their wood-notes wild repeat, And foothe the ear, irregularly hvect; .So fnr.pl- drefs and unlive grrce V.":il bVd becouie i\<\- lovely face; For naked Cupid flill fUpefts. In aitful ornaments, conceal'd deletes. Ceafe then, with idlv cruel care, To torture thus thy flowing hair ; O, cenfe, with taftdefs toil', to il^d A c'cud flf fccntid dujl arctixd thy head! Not Berenice's locks could boaft A grace like thir.e; among the hull Of liars, though radiant r.ow they rife, And add new luftre to the fpangled ikies ; Nor Venus when her charms divine, Improving in a form like thine, She gave her t idles uncop.fin'd To play about her neck, and wanton in the wind. MARKOFF A SIBERIAN ECLOGUE. AMID Siberian waftes and tracklefs ways, TIK- Coflack*, MarkoiF, pafs'd his happy days : No lapturous hop- or rankling care he knew, Kis means were limplc, and his wants were few. Vv'hen inininer cioth'd the hiil and deck'd th.e plain, He wii'dy 'Jiought of winter's cheerlefs reign; And \\hvn the wfhtry inows the icei e o'ercaft, Look'd on to fummer, snd endur'd tiie blafl. Thus lui: r'jli'cl on, and thus lie footh'd his breail, Tivcdoni his guide, r.nd Cheerfulnefs his gueil ; Till re.'Jds thought and vain defires arole. To bii.'.ii his calm and long-cnjoy'd rcpole. Eefi'.le his hut the mu r mg Coffack flood, And JilKn'd to the found o! neighbouring wood, Whofe flow and folemn murmurs fill'd his ear Through all the changeful ieafons of the year. The dark Uralian hills before him rofe, The wind of autumn now impetuous blows : Dicary tlr.' view ! the fro It o'erfpreads the ground, And the loud brook wilh ieiters now is bound. He rmrk'd the clouds from arftic mountains roll'd, He cail'd to mind the tale of traveller bold ; He thought of aidant fcenes, of realms unknown, Where through all ages tern pells held their throne, Sounding their ceafelefs wrath, whofe awful reign No mortal foot had ever dar'd proiane. Tiie defperate refolve is made! He cried, ' ; Thefe feet fhall dare yon \vilds, whste'er betide, Thefe eyes explore th' extent yon regions fprean. Where the young north wind d wells, the itorm is bred. I. who in cave.-, of ice have oft icclin'd, And brac'd my finews in the fierceft wind, May fmile at danger! dangers bi.t invite, And Hoims and tempeits were my fiill delight. But if no bound appear, and as I go, While rocks increafe, and mountains hid in fnow, On all fides round more gloomy wades prevail, And, as I journey, bleaker winds aifail ! Still fhall I learn to brave the polar dorm, And gaze on Nature in her lucu-ft fonn." Thro' the thick mills no cheering fun-beams fhone ; His fledge prepar'd, his winter coat put on, Heedlefs he cried " Adieu !" and urg'd his deer; The mother and the children dropp'd the tear! Now the bold Coffack many a hill had pafs'd, Though each appeared more threatening than the Jafl; Whilil all before, far as his eye could drain, Seem'd Ruin's ancient unexplor'd domain. With heart too proud to temporize vith fear, The hardy 'Markorl pafs'd the mountains drear; He crofs'd each long continuous wafte of plain, He reach'd each diftant lummit, but in vain; Beyond him llill, bounding his u tin oil fight, Hills rife o'er hills, clad in eternal white. And now he came where not a guide was nigh, Save ('mid the valley bare, or crag on high, From certain death the wanderer's Hep to warn,) Some folitaiy pine*, by tempeils fhorn. * The chief forefts in Siberia confift of the Norway and fil- ver f'rs. It is urtderfiood hy tlic northern travilU-rs, that inert inny venture wherever forellsare, without nim 'i r'.arger from the ruH ; bin i'l the higher Idtitii'lf, fore(s whi'l'y d'fappeur, a. d ir,i:,lr ticvs 'Tily arc found, of Minted -in v. ill'. Hen- the tolJ is tft-^n too inu-nfe for aniojal life : v.-hillt in the molt [ '35 ] H? flood, and mark'd the defoiation wide ; fiis ll mute companions " trembled by his fide! And whilil he ftrivcs the chilling blait to bear, And hears the \vhirl\vind thundering through the air Fear {hakes his frame, he dreads his coming fate, He knows his error, but, alas! too late ! With rd'olution warring with diimay, Back he returns to trace his devious way; Bat now the iccne feeins wilder than before, The finoke-frofts rile, the cracking ice-burgs t roarl \Vcary, the patient deer their path purlue, \Vhcre never man abode, or herbage grew. The prolpecl round appear'd one yawning grave, And, 'mid each paut'e the fitful teinpeir ga\e, No howl from llarving wolf invades his ear. To loothe him with the thought that life is near. Now thicker darkncfs gathcr'd o'er his head ; Now anguifh rofe, till hope itfelf was fled ; Deipair's impenetrable mills ante ! Frozen in death, each bead beiide him lies. From luccour far, chain 'd to the icy ground, The wilder'd CoiTack furrowing looks around ; Longs, on the clouds that fouthward take their flight, To leek again his dwelling of delight; " Ah, vain defire !" he cries, " no more mine eye Shall mark that calm abode and tranquil fky ; The wrathful elements around me rave ; No friend to comiort me, no power to fave ! "Why did I feek 'mid wilds like thefe to ftray ? And why difdain the perils of the way? My children now mall mourn, no father near ! My wife fhall drop the unavailing tear! Northerly regions, vegetation never appears. The only trees that grow in Spitsbergen, and fome parts bordering on the Icy-Sea, are the dwarf willows, from two to four inches only in height. t In the mofl northern parts, the hills are always covered with fnow, and the valleys filler! with ire, which are called Ice-burgs. When the atmofphere becomes warmer or cold- er, in any coniiderablc degree, than at the point when the congelation took place, the ice either expands or contracts, which occafions it to crack, with a noife which fome trai- lers have compared to the roaring of a Cannon. Through thefe Jiiiures in the ice, a white fmoke is often cbferved to arife, which is called Smoke-froft, of great opacity, anrl !o intenfe- ly culd as to peel the fkin of any perfon who comes in taK- tzdL with if. [ 136 ] Ccid chills of death creep through my fhivei Ing form ! M.-.ikoft, thy hour is come! Thou pitilels ftorm, Spare me one moment! keep thy wiath above ! ' i'is nard to die far from the friends we love :" Once more he thought upon his home, and figh'd ! Once more he call a look on every fide ! V.'hat forms are thofe which throneh the plain below Speed undiverted, fcatt'ring wide the mow ? It is a band of fable-hunter.-,* bold ; llife, Markoff. rife; fhout c-re thy heart be cold ! We calls ; they heed him not : mo'ie loud he calls ; They hear a voice ; the found each b resit appals ! They paufe ; they look around ; they fee his face ; They hafte the lonely wand'rer to embrace ; Safe in their fledge he fecks his native va'e, And wains each venturous traveller by his tale. TO THE EVEXIXG STAR. BRIGHT eye of p.-nfive eve! refpkndent orb Th.:t o'er the ruifLy mountains iuuiefi clear, Like a rich !;cin Uoou an Ethiop's brow; Thy lamp fcrene my now bi-ni^ht'-d ileps Directs, to that blefs'd fpot whete dwells my Lir, Twin rivals who can boaft More pure, more blight than thce. * The hunting of the fjhles is attended u-it!: Rreat d in^.-r, as the animal is. found only in the molt northern latittulcij) anti the inl'.inres .vhidi have ocrurrcci of i:u!i\ iiiu!>, airl <.-- veil companies, being f'oren to death, are infiiHicifiu to inn- n:idate o'.liers from follov.-ins; the fame ha/arjou^ occnjvi TV;. The hunters fc: lor.varJ, in fi-.mmer, in band, of fvo-. :: live to forty, diagging their boats up the great rivers as fir zs ]>oiii- b!c ; when they u.iit for the fetting-in of the frof}, before thc-v can ufe tlieir fledges, and penetrate farther north, in quell of the fables. (Their only guides on tbefe octalions arc tiic iin- g!e trees, alluded to in a former part of the poem. ', The chief danger anfes in not r< turning from tli'.-fe iiihcfj;itdble regions bcfor; the extremity of winter, as tin- cold i.-: tiii-n intoifia- b!f ; and winch avarice often prevent, thci;: fnvp. dir'j; when their bodies are fometime* difcoverec i-y :!:'.' hn:2tc:. of tlic fyllowing aiilumn. t 137 ] For not thy lovely fight, that kindly cheers The iulU'n frown of unpropitious night, Is half ib fweet as truth, That beams in beauty's eyes. Not all the little waking elves, that rife from out their noily bow'rs of velvet buds, Where they had flept the day, To dance thy rays beneath, Feel furh delight as does this breall:, when thou, With radiant luitre fhow'ft the happy hour, That leads from fcenes of care, To ftill domeitic blifs. On the DEATH of SIR RICHARD ARKIVRIGHT. " Howl, O ye Fir-trees! for the Cedar is fallen." MUSING and penfive, on fair Derwent's banks, In rumination deep, lonely I ftray'd, And took, in thought, a retrolpcftive view Of CROMFORD. -But of late the falling huts The tangling briers and thorns th' uncultur'd glebe The barren rocks the Derwent's difmal roar, In wildly tumbling through its craggy courfc The dreary prolpeft of furrounding hills, Clad in dun heath, reflefting awful gloom, Such was, O CROMFORD! thy forlorn afpect. Now fee her bright cafcades her noble {how Of ftately buildings, grand her lofty turrets, Her cleanly (beets, with bufinels dailv throng'd, And cheerful, laughing crowds her fiopiug hills, Adorn'd with fpreading trees and barren rocks, Of late lo bleak, now cloth'd in grateful green. O ARKWRIGHT! noble Genius! (now, alasl Moft deeply mourn'd by all.) to thee we owe This plea'ing change, this wonderful reverfe. Peace to thy foul, thou ablell, greateft man! That Britain e'er produc'd ; reft, rdt h. peace, And may thy name, for ever be revcr'd ! When, loi the fable hearfe, with nodding plumes, Met my rais'd eye. In flow proceffion rode The folemn mutes ! The mourning train in gloomy filence mov'd ! And, lo ! his gallant deed led flowly on, Who oft had borne him proudly through the air, With flrong erefled creft and fiery eye, Whofe beating hoofs difdainful fmote the ground ; And pranc'd and foam'd, and champ'd the curbing bit. Now flowly walk'd, and hung his drooping head, And feem'd inflinftivcly to mourn his lofs. Thoufands of griev'd fpeftators clos'd the fcene, With milly eyes attendant on the hearfe; While on the neighb'ring hills th' aftonifh'd crowd In gazing filence flood with looks aghaft. From Matlock Rock the fad and folemn bells Thro* the thick gloom fent forth their mournful founds, Striking with awful fear the feeling foul, Lifting the mind contemplative on high. Within the facred ground, with folemn rites, The much lamented bdy then was laid ; When each dejecled heart took its fad leave, And back return'd in ruminating grief. At home arriv'd, and laid down for repofc, The flow proceffion flill was in my view ; The deep idea ftill my foul poffefs'd ; And ftill I moutn'd our country's heavy lofs. * Ah me !' I cry'd, ' where fhall his like be found ? * When fhall we look upon his like again ?' When, lo ! methought a rofy-colour'd form, Angelic fhape, approach'd, adorn'd with fmiles, And cheerfully addrefs'd my troubled foul. " Mourn not (fays he) at the decrees of Heav'n : Great ARKWRIGHT'S foul is mounted up on high, By its commaud- He glorioufly has reach'd the ftated goal To him appointed His mechanic pow'rs Are fpread abroad throughout the wond'ring world, And myriads fhare the bleffings he procur'd. His tafk is done. And now look up, and praife That gracious Pow'r for his unbounded love. As the bright Phoenix rifes from the tomb Of his departed fire, in glorious plumes; So fhall his Soy, cla-d iu that heav'nly rob?. [ 139 ] Blefl charity, fupport great ARKWRICHT'S name, Diffufing bleffings 'mongft the thankful poor; TV'hiift the endearing partner of his bed Shall look and fmile, with fympathizing foul, On his benevolence and, thankful, praife That gracious God who pour'd thofe bleffings down } And thus enabled them to blefs mankind." On the DECAY of HUMANKIND. MISS SEWARD. BEHOLD that tree in autumn's dim decay, Stript by the frequent chill, and eddying wind ; Where yet iome yellow, lonely leaves we find Lirij'iing and trembling on the naked fpray, Twenty, perchance, for millions whirl'd away ! Emblem, alas! too juft, of Humankind! Vain man expefts longevity, defign'd For few inded ; and their protracted day What is it worth that wifdom does not fcorn ? The blafts of ficknefs, care, and grief appal, That laid the friends in duft, whofe natal morn Rofe near their own ; and folemn is the call ; Yet like thofe weak, deferted leaves forlorn, Shiv'ring they cling to life, and fear to fall! THE PURSUIT OF HEALTH. BELOE. ONE Apr.il morn, reclin'd in bed, Juft at the hour when dreams are true, A fairy form approach'd my head, Smiling beneath her mantle blue. " Fie, fie," fhe cry'd, " why flcep fo long, When fhe, the nymph you dearly love, Now roves the vernal ilow'rs among, And waits for you in yonder grove ? ;: Hark ! you may hear her cherub voice, The voice of Health is fweet and clear: Yes, you may hear the birds rejoice In Symphony, her arbour near." I rofe, and haften'd to the grove. With eager fteps and anxious mind ; I rofe, the elfin's truth to prove, And hop'd the promis'd nymph to find. My fairy took me by the hand, And cheerfully we ftepp'd along; She ftopp'd but on the new-plaugh'd land, To hear the ruflet wood-lark's long. We rear.h'd the grove I look'd around, My fairy was no longer near ; But of her voice I knew the found, And thus fhe whifper'd in my ear : " The nymph, fair Health, you came to fine!, Within thefe precinfts loves to dwell ; Her breath now fills the balmy wind ; This path will lead you to her cell." I bended to the primrofe low, And afk'd if Health might there rcficle : " She left me," faid the flow'r, ' ; but now, For yonder vi'let's purple pride." I queflion'd next the vi'let's queen. Where buxom Health was to be found : She told me, that fhe late was fecn With cowflips toying on the ground. Then thrice I kifs'd the cowflips pale, And in their dew-drops bath'd my face ; I told them all my tender tale, And begg'd their aid coy Health to trace. " From us," exclaim'd a lowly flow'r, ' ; The nymph has many a day been gone. But now fhe refts within the bow'r, Where yonder hawthorn blooms alone." Quick to that bow'r I ran, I flew. And yet no nymph I there could find ; But frcfh the bree/e of morning blew, And fpring was gay, and Flora kind. I f 1 return'd fedate and flow, What if the nymph I could not fee ? The blufh that pafs'd along rnv brow Was nro'jf of her divinitv. And dill her votary to prove, And ftill her dulcet fmiles to fhare, I'll tread the fields, I'll haunt the grove; With untir'd fteps and fondeft care. O fprite belov'd! vouchfafe to give A boon, a precious boon to me; Within thy influence let me live, And fometimes, too, thy beauties fee. So mall the mufe in nobler verfe, And ftrength renew'd, exulting fmg; Thy praife, thy charms, thy pow'r rehearfe, And fweep, with bolder hand, the itring. THE PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS. ANDERSON'. IN fearch of true happinefs vainly we wander, And each gew-gaw of pleafure with ardour purfue, Till, by Fancy deluded, pert Folly turns pander, And we ne'er talte the joys that were fu ft held to view. With envy we gaze, as we onward keep preffii>g, At the trappings of State, or the msnfions of Pride ; But that mortal on earth who enjoys life's purebleffing, Makes Content his companion, and Virtue his guide. How various t^e ways mankind take to gain greatnefs With the mifer 'tis greatneis in riches to roll ; The beau thinks it lies in what fools call gay neatnefs ; The drunkard {till fancies it hid in the bowl : Led on by falie Hope, they right forward keep driving, Nor think how near Sorrow to Pleafuru's ally'd ; For in this world of folly, but few are feen flriving To harbour Content, or make Virtue their guide. As infects from daiknefs round light vainly flutter, So mortals court pleafure, and fall by the cheat; And when Age bids Reflection the plain truth to utter, 'Tis then, only then, we behold the deceit. Br.t did man [helplefs reptile !; ne'er aim st ambition, B".t leek i?!V,ng p!-.. > a(urc i <. aid pitv vain Pride, Cotilentnvr.t would then act the part ol phyfician, A;id Virtue Clirou';h life be his heart-cheering ^ulcl'-. C 142 ] To an INFANT at the BREAST. > RICKMAN. DEAR lovely babe! equal, by birth, to all. While thus thou drain'ft my bread, my blcod runs chill : I afk if thou fome future day mufl fall, And defpots fend thee to be kill'd or kill. For thoufands daily drop, who each (like thec) Once claim'd a mother's ever-anxious love, Hung on her bofom, fported on her knee, And valued were ten thoufand kings above. Tormenting thought ! oh ! ere thou grow'!} mature, May all wars ceafe or tyrants (if there W) fight their own battles and each man, fee u re By equal rights and equal laws, be free. So may no mother's care be thrown away, Nor one hurl millions from the face of day ! TO HER WHO WILL BEST REMEMBER IT. WHEN ftrongaffliftion deeply wounds tbebreafi:, When forrow fits upon the moiiten'd eye ; When the heart finks with pond'rous grief oppreft, And the fad bofom heaves with many a figli; Loit to all life, averfe to ev'ry joy. Difdaining comfort, fcorr.ing all repofe, The penfive foul can brook but one employ Brooding in gloomy filence o'er its woes. Come then, thou partner of my chcerlefs hour, Come, faithful mufe, and feek the lonely grove ; Retire with me to yon fequefher'd bow'r, And mark the flory of my lucklefs love. For thou, the trueft, tend'reft. beft of friends, The fond companion of my earliefk youth, Wilt fnare eacji anguifh that my bofom rends, Untir'd wilt liften, and unfecn wilt footh. Oft hafi. thou tried and oft with kind fuccefs, To fm.oo.th the furrows of my aching brow ; [ '43 ] But. ah! I never Felt fevere diftrefs. Or prov'd th" extreme of nuiery till now. Full well thou know'ft, in life's unripen'd morn, With thoughtlefs eafe I pafs'd the frolick day; Pluck'd ev'ry rofe, and where I found a thorn, Threw, carelefs threw th' unheeded flow'r away. Refolv'd the roving, reftlefs mind to cure, And guide the future diff 'rent from the paft, I fonght for fweets that might through life endure, And fondly fancied they were found at laft. I faw the lovelieft rofe that grac'd the land, With blooming fragrance gladd'ning all around ; Too bold, perhaps, I flretch'd the forward hand, Yet mifs'd the flow'r, and inly felt a wound. Felt! did I fay! deep rankling in my heart, No time can mitigate my fuff'ring there; Hope lends no friendly halfam for the fmart, And all my black'ning profpefts frown defpair. And yet, lov'd msid ! if partial to my mufe, Her nrtlefs numbers ihou wilt deign to hear ; If. foftly Gghir.g, thon wilt not refufe To fried with her one fympathizing tear ; That (ingle tear that dews Eliza's cheek, Shall for a moment wafh my griefs away; That figh. tho' half fupprefs'd, (hall more than fpcak, And gild the ev'ning of each mournful day. Then fhall I think 'twas not Eliza's heart, 'Twas not her gentle bread refus'd to glow ; 'Twas not Eliza's felt who bade us part, The world, th' unfeeling world, pronounc'd it fo. Th' unfeeling world, that thinks, where riches roll, Where titles blazon, joys can never ceafe; That waves each foft emotion of the fonl, And builds on public clamour private peace. And yet, Eliza, thou mayft live to prove, And thy fond heart may own it with a figh, That the endearing fweets of mutual' love, No wealth, no tlate, no fplendour can fupply. Form'd as thou art, with ev'ry outward grace, With ev'ry inward virtue ri'chly fraught, [ H4 I- Think, if thy tendernefs thou fhouldft mifpiace, Pride, pomp, and grandeur may be dearly bo:ighf Though honour's nobleft circle thou'lt adorn, And dignify, in ev'ry fpherc, the wife; Eliza, or I much initiate, -was born To fhine amidft the foften'd joys of life. For me, whom poignant woes muft flill depreis, Each future hour to forrow I refign ; Death only can alleviate my diftrefs, And the laft parting moment mail be thine. A JEU D' ESPRIT. MISS DAYE. nPHOUGH faintly mines this winter's fur;, A And fhort his vilits be, He warms my heart, for oft I hope He mines on you and me. The moon too, beauteous queen of night ! Enraptur'd ftill I fee; For fure I think her rays ferene Are feen by you and me. And gayly burns our rural fire, And happy mould I be; But cold's my heart, there wants a charm, It warms not you and me. And fiercely blows this cold north wind, For ruffian blafts has he; But bitt'rer far that zephyr's breeze Which parted you and me. ON RECOVERY FROM AN ILLNESS. COLLIER. YE foft'ring gales! which through the temper'd air Around me fport on aromatic wing, What joy to hear your wanton flight declare Stern winter yielding to the birth of fpring! Hail, glorious fun ! conceal'd in clouds no more, Whofe opening rays their genial vigour dart, I feel thy warmth my friouer'd pow'rs reftore, And aid the pulfes of my lab'ring heart. Nor owe I lefs to Thee, whofe milder beams, From itorms fecure, now cheer the gloom of night. While thought in rapture o'er my fancy ftreams, Infpird by lilence, and thy virgin light. The force of Xature in her rifing charms, 15v a\] with grateful ardour is confeii'd ; E .it mt-it their hearts the loft enchantment warms, Whom pain and pale difeale have long opprefs'd. With rapture them each fpreading branch infpires, Whofe redd'nhlg buds the promis'd leaves reveal ; Their thoughts each fhrub and gaudy flow'ret fires, And in their life returning lite they teel. To them the lark, while pois'd in ?ir fhe floats, Their prefent blifs records in wildeil ftrains ; To them the nightingale, in plaintive notes, Tells the fad ftory of her former pains. With eager fteps, at dawn of rifing day, They meet the fun on Tome afpiring hill ; Or watch at eve the moon's ferener ray, Confus'dly trembling on fome fccret rill. Such are the joys which, ficknefs paft, we know, Joys health perpetual knows not how to tafte :. O fickle itate of happinefs below ! When in poffcllion all our blifs we wafte. O tell, ye wretches ! at whofe bed, like mine, Sicknefs hath fix'd her melancholy ftand, Tell the diftrefs it is in pain to pine, Nor feel the preffure of Sleep's downy hand ; To count the hours which limp on leaden feet, Or in wild phrenzy their fwift flight to lofe; Or glow in flames of lite-cxhaufting heat, Or melt in torrents of faint, chilly dews ; Or, when at laft the dire diftemper flies, And, wearied out, we quit the loathfome bod, With nerves unbrac'd, and languid looks to rife, Doubtful among the living or the dead ; To feel the pow'rs of memory impair'd, Our fenfts torpid, our attention weak ; To dread their fight who mod our love have fhar'd, More chiidifh grown than ere we learn'cl to fpcak. Yet, when is man fo wretched, or fo bkft, That no mlfchance can wound, or comfort cheer ? 'Midit all the languors of my panting brcail, Some gentle founds approach my trembling car : 'Tis Mira's voice a voice whofe Toothing pow'r Might ftill the ravings of a frantic mind, Or hufh the forrows of the mournful hour, Which feeks that comfort it delpairs to rind. Let Grandeur aft the flatter'd patron's part, Protection give to rniie itfelf a name, Great in the treafure of a feeling heart, Friend to the wretched is thy nobler fame. O gentleil fair one ! my true thanks receive, Still ia this heart thy kindei't aid fhail live; And if, as mortal, thou ?rt doom'd to grieve, May ibme fond friend thy own foft comfort give AX APOLOGUE. WOO'D by the furnmer gale zn Oliv: flood Befide the margin of a filv'ry flood, Beneath its playful gently-wav'ring fhadi: A Syrian Rofe her eaftern bloom difplay'd. 1'hc tlow'r complain'd, that, ftretching o'er her head, The dark'ning Olive a broad umbrage fpread ; Or, if admitted to a partis' view. Her blufhing leaves imbib'd a yellow hue. Not unattcntivc to the mournful ftrain. The rnafter heard his Syrian Rofe complain ! The ready axe foon urg'd the fatal wound. And bow'd the (lately Olive to the gioundl The Rofe exulting, now with full diipiay Gave all her beauty to the garifh dr.y ; But foon her triumph cens'd; the mid-day beam Pov.r'd on her tender frame a fcojching flream : The Rofe now fick'ning, drooping. bngi:id, p-i'e, Call'd the foft fhow'r, ai%d call'd the cooling gale; [ M7 ] Nor foft'ning fhow'r, nor gale with cooling breath : Approach'd to t'ave her from untimely death. The humbled Olive faw the Rofe diftrefs'd, And thus, with dying voice, the flow'r addrefs'd : Ah ! were it not that low-born envy floic, With all its rancour, on thy yielding ioul, I might, attir'd in youth's unfading green Have (till embellifli'd the furrounding fcenc; And thou, detaining itill th' admiring eye, Have breath'd thy little incenfe to the iky. AN ODE TO HIS BARN. PINDAR. BY Lacedasmon men attack'd, When Thebes in days of yore was fack'd, And naught the fury of thi- troops could hinder; What's true, yet marv'lous to rehearfe, So v.-ell the common foldiers relifh'd verfe, They fcorn'd to burn the dwelling-houfe of Pindar. With awe did Alexander view The houfe of my great coufm too, And gazing on the building, thus he figh'd " General Parmenio, mark that houle before ye ! That lodging tells a melancholy ftory : There Pindar liv'd (great Bard !) and there he died, " The king of Syracufc, all nations know it, War celebrated by this lofty poet, And made immortal by his drains: Ah ! could I find, like him, a bard to fing me; Would any man like him a poet bring me; I'd give him a good penfion for his pains. " But, ah! Parmenio, 'mongft the fons of men, This world will never fee his like again ; The greateft bard that ever breath'd is dead ! Gen'ral Parmenio, what think you ?" " Indeed 'tis true, my liege, 'tis very true," Parmenio cry'd, and, fighing, fhook his hcsd. Then from his pocket took a knife fo nice, With which lie chipp'd his chcele and onions, And iY.iTn a rafter cut a handiome fiic?, 'I'o msk rare toothpicks for the Macedonians; Juit iike t:.e toothpicks v.'hich we lee At Stratford, made from Shakespeare mulb'rv tree. Wpat pity that the fquire and knight Knew not to prophecy as well as fight; Then had they known the future men of metre : Then had the gen'ral and the monarch fpv'd, In fcte's fair book, our nation's equal pride, T::nt very Pindar's coufin Peter ! Daughter of thatch, and flone. ar.d mud, Vv'hen I. no longer fltfh and blood, Shall join the lyric bards fome half a dozen ; Meed of high worth, and, "midit th' Elylian plains, To Horace and Alcasus read my itrams, Anacreon, Sappho, and my great old Couiin ; On thec fhall rifing generations flare. That come to Kingfbridgc, and to Dodbrook fair, Tor fnch thy hiftory and mine fhall learn ; Like Alexander fhall they cv'ry .one Heave a de;p figh, and (ay, Since Peter's gone, IVith rev'renco let us look upon his Barn. THE MORALIST. MRS. ROBINSON. HARK ! the hollow moaning \vind Sweeps along the midnight air, Sullen as the guilty mind ; Hidden fource of dark defpair. See the death-wing'd lightning fly ! Defolation marks its way ! Fatal as the vengeful ej^e, Fixing on its deftin'd prey. Dreadful thunders, threat'ning. roll, Viewlefs 'midll the turbid clouds ! So the fierce relentlefs foul Hate's empoifon'd arrow fhrouds. Sc,-, the billowy ocean's breaft, S'.vay'd by cv'ry warring \vir.J," t ] Rifes, fosms, ancl finks to reft, Fickle as the human mind. Sweetly blooms the rofc of Mav. Glitt'ring with the tea:s oi morn : So infyiious fmiks betray, While thev h:dc tlic treach'rot lark gay fnmrner's glowing prime, Shaaow'd bv the twilight gloom ; So the riithleis wing of time faireit to the tomb. Moraiift ! where'er vou move. O'er vait nature's varying plan, Ev'ry changing tce.ne fhall prove A iad epitome of man. DESCRIPTION' OF LAMBS AT PLAY. v FROM BLOOMFI ELD's " FARMER'S BOY." SAY, yc that know, ye who have felt and iivn Spring's i;io'.ning (miles and foiil-enliv'ning y^ Say, did you give the thrilling tranfport Vv-av ? Did your eye brighten, when young iambs at piny Leap'd o'er your path with animated pride, Or gaz'd in merry clufters by your fide ? Ye who can (mile (to wifdom no difgracc) At the erch meaning of a kitten's [see; If i'potlefs Innocence, and infant mirth. Excites to praiie, or gives reflection birth; In fhad.s like thcfe purfue your fav'rite joy, '.Midit nature's revels, fports that never cloy. A few begin a fhort but vig'rous race, And indolence abafh'd foon flies the place; Thus challeag'd forth, fee thither, one by one, From ev'ry fide afTembling playmates run; A thoufand wily antics mark their flay, A itnrti:ig crowd, impatient of delay. Like t!ie fond dove, from fearful prifon freed. Each leems to fay, " Come, let us try our ipeed ;' Away they fcour, impetuous, ardent, ftrong, The green turf trembling as they bound along ; [ '50 ] /v.iown .he fiopc, then up the hillock climb, Where ev'ry mole-hill is a bed of thyme; Ti:c:c panting flop, yet fiercely can refrain; A bud, a leaf, will let them off again : Or if a gale with ftrength unufual blow, .Scat:'nr.g the wild-brier rofes into fuow, Tiuir little limbs increasing efforts try, l.lko the torn flow'i the fair alTemblage fly. Ah, fallen ro!e ! fad emblem of their doom : Frail as thyfelf, they perifh while they bloom! Though unoffending innocence may plead, Though frantic ewes may mourn the favage deed, Their fhepherd comes, a meffenger of blood, And drives them bleating from their fports and food. Care loads his brow, and pity wrings his heart, For, lo ! the murd'ring BUTCHER, with his cart, Demands the firftlings of his flock to die, And makes a fport of life and liberty ! His gay companions Giles beholds no more ; Clos'd are their eyes, their fleeces drentfh'd in gore; Nor can Compaffion, with her ibfteft notes, Withhold the knife that plunges through their throats. ON T THE DEATH OF HOWARD. HOWARD, thy talk is done! thy Mailer calls. And fummons thee from Cherfon's diftant walls. " Come, weli-approv'd ! my faithful fervant, come! Xo more a wand rer, feek thy deftin'd home. Long have I rr.ark'd thee with o'er-rulinj eye, And fent admiring angels from on high, To walk the paths of dangerby thy fide, From death to fhield thee, and thro' fnares to guide. My minifter of -good, I've fped thy way, And fhot through dungeon-glooms a leading ray. To loothe, by thee, with kind unhop'd relief, My creatures loll and whelm'd in guilt and grief; I ? \c led thee, ardent, on through wond'ring climes, 1 o combat human woes and hmnan crimes. But 'tis enough thy great commifiion's o'er. I prove thy faith, thy zeal, thy iove. no more: Nor droop, that far from country, kindred, friends, Thy life, to duty long devoted, ends; What boots it where the high reward is given, Or whence the foul triumphant fprings to heaven ?" Thi NIGHTINGALE and the GLOW-WORM. COWPER. A Nightingale, that all day long Had cheer'd the village with his fong, Nor yet at eve his note fufpended, But when the eventide was ended, Began to feel, as well he might, The keen demands of appetite; When, looking eagerly around, He fpy'd far off, upon the ground, A fomething mining in the dark, And knew the Glow-worm by his fpark : So ftooping down from hawthorn top, He thought t' have put him in his crop ; The worm, aware of his intent, Harangu'd him thus right eloquent : " Did you admire my lamp, quoth he, As much as I your minftrelfy, You would abhor to do me wrong, As much as I to fpoil your fong ; For 'twas the felf-iame Pow'r divine Taught you to fing and me to fhine; That you with mufic, I with light, Might beautify and cheer the night." The fongflcr heard his fhort oration, And, warbling out his approbation, Jleleas'd him, as my^lory tells, And found a lupper (omewhcre elfe. Hence jarring feftaries may learn Their real int'rdls to difcein ; That brother mould not war with brother, And worry and devour each other : But fing and fhine by fwcet confent, Till life's poor tranfient night is fpent ; K<:fpe6ling in each other's cafe, Their gifts from nature, pow'r, and placr. C '5* J Thofe Chriftians bed deferve the name, Who ftudioufly make peace their aim ; Peace, both the duty and the prize Of him that creeps and him that flies. On the BIRTH of a POSTHUMOUS CHILD. Born in peculiar Circumfiances of Family Diftrcfi. BURNS. SWEET Flow'ret! pledge o' meikle love, And ward o' mony a pray'r, What heart o ! ftane wad thou na move, Sae helplefs, fweet, and fair? NoVember hirples o'er the lea, Chill, on thy lovely fonn ; And gane, alas ! the fhelt'ring tree Should fhicld thee frae the itorm. May HE who gives the rain to pour, And wings trie blaft to blaw, Protect thee frae the driving fhow'r, The bitter froll and fna-.v ; M::y HE, the friend of woe and v/ant, Who heais life's various ftounds, Proiecl and guard the mother plant, And heal her cruel wounds! But l;,te (he flourifh'd, rooted fart, Fair on the lurnmer morn ; Now feebly bends (he in the blait, Unfhelter'd and forlorn. Blefs'd be thy bloom, thou lovely gem ! Unfcath'd by ruffian hand, And from thee many a parent Hem Arifs to deck our land ! ELEGY written in WESTMINSTER ABBEY. N r O more I wander the mufe-haunted grove, Where deeds of .sjlory fwei! t!v (.pic itrjin, Or where the raptures ot requited love Wake the fweet iium'.-crs oi th' inipafiion'd i-,va:u. C >53 ] For, ah ! how tranfient love's endearing joy, That richell boon of fav'ring Heav'n to man! And what ambition, but an infant's toy, To minds that ponder life's contracted (pan ? Then come, Refkftion, nymph of fober mien, Who rov'd beneath the yew-tree's fhade with Gray; Teach me to meditate the folemn fccne, As penfive " through the long-drawn aiiles" I ftray. Here oft has Britain's roya! pageant pafs'd, And titled Pride her gaudy charms difpiay'd ; Here would the crowd with pagan ardour hafle T' adore the idol that their folly made. Yet, a few feafons fled, the train rcturn'd, With hearts untouch'd to mimic forrow's gloom ; With woe's grimace the pompous herald rnourn'd, And lavilh'd flatt'ry o'er the fenfelefs tomb. Here jarring ftatefmen meet, once haughty foes, Who fpurn'd indignant at a rival's pow'r; There beauty withers like the blaming rofe, The fragrant pride of fummer's tranfient hour. The votive fong to Delia's vernal bloom Vibrates no raptures on her deafen'd ear; E'en proud Ambition ftoops beneath a tomb. And Pleafure's fyren voice is iilent there. Dumb, too, the minftrel's harp, whofe magic lays Arous'd the valiant breail to deeds of fame ; Yet time fhall fpare the virtuous poet's praife, And age to age repeat his honoar'd name. Yet here, till Wifdom fly the Britifh coaft, Oft-times the mimng moFalul f!>?ll come, Heedlefs of Grandeur's monumental boaft. To feck, good Addifon, thy humbler tomb, And long thy precepts, with refifilcfs pow'r Shall lure the warul'rer to ill.- fhrhi<; of Truth; Chafe puerile Folly from life's ev'nia.fT hour, And whifper caution to impetuous Youth. Nor view'd with carelefs eye the recent grave Of Johnfon, moral mcisf> 1 ' of our ige. Th'>':<>!i mark'd by Superii".'o-, fo:- he- fhve, Though Bijjoiry deiv-iin la' hiiloric page. L 154 ] Lo! where the fage, by lill'ning crowds rever'd, Whole well-earn'd honours grateful fcier.cL- paid, And chiefs whofe prowefs fteel-clad legions fear'd, Repoie alike in death's oblivious fhade. Mo viftor's fhout, no foothing voice of fame, Shall pierce the gloomy caverns of the ground ; Bat darknefs there her filent empire claim, Till nature hear the trump celeftial found. And is it thus the various ranks of men, The mean, the wife, the tyrant, and the flave, "VVhste'er through devious life their path had been, All meet at laft affociates in the grave ? Then why mould Pen'ry mourn her lowly birth, Or titled Pride a flu me the brow of fcom ? From life's laft fcene, fince all but moral worth Flies like night vifions at the fong of morn. Hence let Ambition's vot'ries fondly dream Of wealth's heap'd treafures and the dome of ftaie ; At honour's flirine indulge the airy fcheme, Or crowd obfequious round Preferment's gate. Be rather mine to bend in Virtue's fane, Her cares, her duties, and her joys to know ; The figh of Want to hear, the fhriek of Pain, And with Companion's gen'rous warmth to glow : Be mine, Religion, of thy hope poffefs'd, Tranquil to finifh life's eventful hour; My mem'ry dear to fome congenial bread, My ford by Friendfhip ftrew'd with many a flow'r. THE TRAVELLER. FROM GISBORNE'S " WALKS IN A FOREST." MARK on yon road, whofe unobftrafted courfe With long white line th' unburied furze divides, Yon folitary horfeman urge his way. lie no; unmindful of the brooding ftorm, Ere yet, by Itrong nectflity compell'd Of pr^ffmg occupation, he exchang'd The bhzing herrth, and firm compacted roof, For naked foreii,s and uncertain fkies, [ 155 J With wife precaution, arm'd himfclf to meet The winter's utmoft lage. In filken folds Thrice round his neck the handkerchief he twin'd. His legs he cas'd in boots of mighty fize, And drength experienc'd oft; warm'd thro' and thro' In chimney corner; and with gloffy face Prepar'd defending torrents to repel, As roll the round drops from the (ilv'ry leaf Of rain-befprinkled colewort, or the plumes Of fesgull fporting in the broken wave. Then o'er his limbs the ftout great-coat he drew, With collar rais'd aloft, and threefold cape Sweep below fwecp in wide concentric curves Low down his back dependent; on his breaft The folds he crofs'd, and in its dcdin'd hole Each draining button fix'd; ereft he flood, Like huge portmanteau on its end uprear'd. Fearlefs he ially'd forth; nor yet dildain'd The heart'ning draught from tankard capp'd with foam, By lioft officious to the horfeblock borne With deady hand, and eloquently prais'd; While ling'ring on the ftep his eye he turn'd To cv'ry wind, and mark d th' embattled clouds Hanging their fquadrons in the fullen eaft. How fares he now ? Caught on the middle wade. Where no deep wood its holpitable gloom Extends ; no friendly thicket bids him cow'r Beneath its tangled roof; no lonely tree Prompts him to feek its leeward fide and cleave, Erect, and into narrowed fpace comprefs'd, To the bare trunk, if haply it may ward The driving temped; with bewilder'd hafte Onward he comes. " Hither direct thy fpeed ; This fhelt'ring grove " He hears not! Mark his head Oblique prelented to the fionn; his hand, Envclop'd deep beneath th' inverted cuff, Strives to confine, with many a fruitlefs grafp, His ever-flapping hat; the cold drench'd glove Clings round th' imprifon'd fingers. O'er his knees His coat's broad fkirt, icanty now prov'd too late, He pulls and pulls impatient, mutt'ring wrath At pilf 'riH tailors. Baffled ?nd perp'ex'd. With joints benumb'd and aching, (carce he holds, The rein, fcarce guides the deed, witrrbreathlefs toil O'erpowr'd, and fhrinking (idewnys from the bind. B.-.huId that deed, witii icy inane, snd luad Depreu'd, and quiv'ring cars now forward bent, Now backward fwiftly thrown, and off 'ring (till Their convex penthoufe to the fhifting gale ; Behold that fleed on indurated balls Of fnow uprais'd, like fchoolboy rear'd on ftilts, Labour unbalanc'd ; the fallacious prop, Now this, now th;:t, breaks fhort : with fudden jirk He finks, half falling; and recov'ring quick, On legs of length unequal reels along. Scarce on his feat can clinging knees fcftain The trembling rider : while the fnow upheaves In drifts athwart h ; s courfe projected broad ; Or o'er th' uncover'd gravel rattling fweeps, Caught up in fudden eddies, and aloft, Like fmoke, in fuffocating volumes whirl'd. The road he quits unwary, wand'ring wide O'er the bleak wafte, 'mid bufrureod wrapp'd in fnow, Down rough declivities and fraftur'd banks, Through miry plafhes, cavities unfeen, And bogs of treach'rous furface; till afar From all that meets his recolleftion borne, Difmay'd by ha/ards fcarce efcap'd. and dread Of heavier perils imminent, he ftands Difmounted and aghaft. Now ev'ning draws Her gath'ring fhades around ; the tempell fierce Drives fiercer. Chill'd within him finks his heart, Panting with quick vibrations. The wild blaft Appal'd he hears, thinks on his wife and babes, And doubts if ever he (hall fee them more. But comfort is at hand ; the (kits have fpent, In that laft guft, their fury. From the weft The letting urn with horizontal gleam Cleaves the den fe clouds ; and through the gold en breach Strikes the fcath'd oak, whofe branches, peel'd and bare, 'G.iinft the retiring darknefs of the ftorm With fiery radiance glow. The trav'ller views The well-known landmark, lifts to heav'n his eyes Swimming with gratitude, the friendly track Regains, and fpeeds exulting on his way. O ye, whom, ftruggling on life's craggy road With obftacles and dangers, fecret foes _ Supplant, faife friends betray, dilaftrous rage Of elements, of war, ot civil broils. Brings down to poverty's cold floor, while grief Preys on Uie heart, and dims the C '57 ] Faint not! There is who rules the florm, wliofe hand Feeds the young ravens, nor permits blind chance, To clofe one fparrow's flagging wing in death. Truft in the Rock of Ages. Now, ev'n now He ipeaks, and all is calm. Or if, to prove Your inmoft foul, the hurricane ftill fpread Its liccns'd ravages, He whifpers hope, Earneil of comfort; and, through blacked night, Bids keen-eyed Faith on heaven's pure funfhine gaze, And learn the glories of her future home. TO THE RIVER ITCHIN. 1TCHIN, when I behold thy banks again, Thy crumbling margin and thy filver bread, On which the felf-fame tints ftill feem to reft, Why feels my heart the fhiv'ring fenfe of pain ? Is it that many a fummer's day has pafs'd Since, in life's morn, I carol'd on thy fide. Is it that oft, fmce then, my heart has figh'd, As youth, and hope's delu'ive dreams flew fail ? Is it that thofe, who circled on thy fhore, Companions of my youth, now meet no more? Whate'er the caufe, upon thy banks I bend Sorrowing, yet feel fuch folace at my heart, As at the meeting of fome long-loft friend, From whom, in happier hours, we wept to part. CASIMER, BOOK II. HEALD. IX the high-tow'ring poplar thus (winging, My lyre! hang, iufpended at eafe : Thy firings at wild intervals ringing, When iwept by the breath of the breeze. The blue vault its full beauty difplaying, Xot a cloud the pure ether o'eifbades, And in fighs his foi't wifhes betraying, The green foliage fond Zephyr pervades. C 158 ] Thus I leave thee to murmur and quiver, As whifpers the flow-rifing wind ; While here, ftretch'd on the banks of the river. I repofe, in light {lumbers rcclin'd. Ha ! along yon horizon daik-fcowlmg, What tempeft-fed fhadows appear! Clouds! clouds rife! inceiTantly rolling ; Hark! the fhow'r whiftles loud on mine ear. O my harp! my companion, my treafure, Let us rife, let us haften away : 'Tis thus flies the phantom of pleafure, With quick ftep ever hading away. PEACE AND SHEPHERD. LOW in a deep fequefter'd vale, Whence Alpine heights afcend, A beauteous nymph, in pilgrim garb, Is feen her fteps to bend. Her olive garland drops with gore ; Her fcatter'd treffes torn, Her bleeding bread, her bruifed feet Befpeak a maid forlorn. " From bow'r, and hall, and palace dri To thefe lone wilds I flee, My name is Peace, I love the cot; O fhepherd, fhelterme!" " O beauteous pilgrim, why dofl thou From bow'r and palace fke ? So foft thy voice, fo fweet thy look, Sure all would fhelter thee?" e l;as robh'd of its crimlbn the ro'ie, . .Slic has clar'd the carnation to ilrip, [ '65 ] The bee who has plunder'd them knows, And would fcin fill his hive at her lip. She has ftoPn for her forehead fo even All beauty by ica and by land, She has all the fine azure of heaven In the veins of her temple and hand. Yes. yes, fhe has ranfack'd above, She has beggar'd both nature and art, She has got all we honour and love, And from me fhe has pilter'd my heart. Brirj; her home, honeft friends ! bring her home., And fet her down fafe at my door : Let her once my companion become, And I fwear fne (hall wander no more. Brir.g her home, and I'll give a reWard Whofe value can never be told, More precious than all you regard, More in worth than a houfe full of gold. A reward fuch as none but a dunce, Such' as none but a madman would mifs, O yes, I will give you for once From, the charmer you bring me a kifs. A MORAL PICTURE. ARLEY. ALL hail to thee, thou peaceful lone retreat? \Yelcome this rude uncultivated fpot ! Where hofpitality has fix'd her feat, In humble Poverty's fequefter'd cot. Thofe barren hills that bound yon dreary rocks, That iolitary flream meandring flow; This little paflure, and thefe {canty flocks, Have charms which Opulence may never know. By fervile tribes and Fortune's minions fcorn'd, Remote from crowds on fchemes of grandeur bent, Hero fr.nple Nature, fweetly unadorn'd, Dwcljs with her handmaids. Virtue and Content. Within this Ipwly hut, whofe tott'ring roof Seems juft departing from its time-worn thatch, A ^-n'rous pair, Companion's nobleft proof, For cv'ry traveler lift the friendly latch. Though I'mall their income, ample is their mir-d, With few poireffions they've abundant wealth : In Nature's bounteous lap they daily find Lite's choice!! bleflings, Innocer.ce and Health. Together once they trod its early ftage, Together oow they journey down the vale ; Pail fcenes of youth endear approaching age, And waft them onward with a gentle gale. One beauteous maid, dear pledge of nuptial love, With artlefs prattle ev'ry care beguiles ; She, while her parents cherifh and improve, Cheers all their thoughtful hours with infant fmilcs. For her alone they wear a fhort-liv'd gloom, Her future weal Hill anxious to fecme; Content, when fammon'd to their final doom, To leave her honeft, though they leave her poor. " O facred wedlock! flame for ever bright! Perpetual fource of untumultuous joy ! Pure filcnt itream ! that flows with new delight, Blifs Hill increafmg, fweets that never cloy ; " 'Midft bufliing throngs thy foil endearments charm, Reitrain the hulbnnd, and proteft the wife ; But chief thy chafle connubial raptures warm The peaceful current of unruifled life." There the mild tranfports of the focial hour Forbid each all-completed wifh to roam; Beft pieas'd to feek Retirement's halcyon bow'r, And rear their rip'ning progeny at home. Approach this rural fcene. ye little great, Ye ever-roving, ever-thoughtlefs crew ! Suipend awhile magnificence and ftate, To learn contentment from the happy few. Come too, ye cruej, unrelenting fair ! " Who from your children bamfh Nature's friend, Here view the pattern of maternal care, And, while you contemplate that pattern, mend. Come, wearied Indigence, forget thy woes, * This Lithfui cottage harbours no ditguife; Here, nndiiturb'd, enjoy a cairn repoie, And t.'lle that comfort which the world denicv. TO A BOY, Having deftroyed a Neft of young Birds. OH, cruel ! could thine infant bofom find No plcafure, but in others' mifery ? Come. let me tear thee from thy parent's arms, As thou haft torn thefe half-fledg'd innocents ; And dafh thee naked on the cold bare ftones, Ail in thy tender mother's aching fight: But thou ait young, and know'It not yet the cares, The pangs, the feelings of an anxious parent. El'.e would thy heart, by fad experience taught, Weep o'er the little ruin'd family, And curie the frolt that nipp'd their wither'd bill's. ON THE BEING OF A GOD. RETIRE; the world (hut out ; thy thoughts call home; Imagination's airy wing reprefs ; Lock up thy fenfes ; let no pafiion ftir ; Wake all to Reafon let her reign alone ; Then, in thy foul's deep filence, and the depth Of nature's nlence, midnight, thus inquire. What am I ? and from whence ? I nothing know, But that I am ; and, fince I am, conclude, Something eternal ; had there e'er been naught, Naught ftill had been : Eternal there mult be. But what eternal ? Why not human race, And Adam's anceftors without an end ? That's hard to be conceiv'd ; fince ev'ry link Of that long-chain'd fucceffion is fo frail. Can ev'ry part depend, and not the whole ? Yet grant it true, new difficulties rife; I'm Hill quite out at fea ; nor fee the fhore. Whence earth and thefe bright orbs ? eternal too ? Grant matter was eternal, Hill thefe orbs Would want fome other father; much dcfign Is feea in all their motions, all their makes : De.'ign implies intelligence and art: That can't be from themfelvcs or man ; that art Mar. can fc.arce comprehend, could man beftaw ? And nothing greater yet allow'd than man. Who motion, foreign to the fmalleft gram. Shot through vad inaiTcs of enormous weight ? Vv'ho hid brute matter's reftive lump afiume Such various forms, and gave it wings to fly ? iias matter innate motion? Then each atom, Aliening its indifpntable right To dance, would form an ur.iverfe of duft. Has mr.tter none ? Then wnence t'rrie glorious forms, And boundless flights, from fhapelefs, and repos'd ? Has matter more than motion ? Hss it thought, Judgment, and genius ? Is it deeply learr.'d In mathematics? Has it fram'd inch laws, Which, but to guels, a Newton made immortal ? If art to form, and counfel to conduct, And that with greater far than human (kill, Rcfides not in each block. a Godhead reigns; And if a God UK re is, that God how great ! APOSTROPHE TO AN OLD TREE. MRS. SMITH. WHERE thy broad branches brave the bitter north Like rugged, indigent, unheeded woitli, Lo ! vegetation's guardian bands embofs, Each giant limb with fronds of ftudded mo!s, That clothes the bark in many a fiinged fold Begemm'd with fcarlet fhields and cups of gold, Which to the w!ldeit winds their webs oppofe, And mock the arrowy fleet, or weit'ring (hows. But to the warmer weft the Woodbine fair, With taffels that perfum'd the fummer air, The mantling Clematis, whofe feath'ry bow'rs Wav'd in fefloons with Nightfhade's purple ilovv'is, The nlver weed, whofe corded fillets wove Round thy pale rind, ev'n as deceitiul love Of mercenary beauty would engage The dotard fondnels of decrepid age; All thefe. that during fummer's halcyon days With their green canopies conceai'd thy iprays, Are gone for ever; or, disfigur'd, trail Their fallow relicks in tli' autumnal gale; C 169 ] Or o'er thy roots in faded fragments toft, But tell of happier hours and i'weetnefs loft. Thus in fate's trying hour, when furious ftorms Strip focial life of plealnre's fragile forms, And awful JulHce, as his rightful prey, Tears Lux'ry's (ilk and jewell'd robe away; "While reads Adverfity her leilon item, And Fortune's minions tremble as they learn; The crowds around her gilded cr that hung, Bent the lithe knee, and troul'd the honey tongue, De< ponding fall, or fly in pale defpair; And Scorn alone remembers that they were. Not fo Integrity; unchang'd he lives In the rude armour contcious honour gives, And dares with hardy front the troubled fky, In Honeity's uninjur'd panoply. Ne'er on Profperity's enfeebling bed, Or rofy pillows, he repos'd his head, But, giv'n to ufeful arts, bis ardent mind Has fought the gen'rsl welfare of mankind ; To mitigate their ills his greateil blifs, While kudying them has made them what he is; He, when the human temped rages worfl, And the earth fnudders as the thunders buift, Firm as thy northern branch is rooted fait, And if he can't avert, endures the blaft. AN ELEGY Defcribing the Sorrow of an ingenuous Mind, on the melan- choly Event of a licentious Amour. SHENSTONE. WHY mourns my friend ? why weeps his down- cafteye? That eye where mirth, where fancy us'd to fhine ; Thy cheerful meads reprove that (welling figh ; Spring ne'er enamell'd fairer meads than thine. Art thou not lodg'cl in fortune's warm rmbiace ? Wert thou not form'd by nature's paitial care; JjJiis'd in thy fon^, and bieis'd in ev'ry grace That wins the iiiend, or that enchants the fair? Damon, faid he ; thy partial praife rcllrain; .\'ot Damon's friaidfhip ci.a my lov-: idlore; L 170 ] Alas! his very prsife awakes my pain, And my poor -wounded bofom bleeds the more. For O ! that nature on my birth had fiown'd ! Or fortune fix'd me to fome lowly cell ! Then had my bofom 'fcap'd this fatal wound, Nor had I bid thcfe vernal fweets farewell. But led by fortune's hand, her darling child, My youth her vain licentious blifs admir'd ; In fortune's train the fyren flatt'ry fmil'd, And rafhly hulow'd all her queen infpir'd. Of folly ftudious, ev'n of vices vain, Ah, vices, gilded by the rich and gay! I chas'd the guilelefs daughters of the plain. Nor dropp'd the chafe till Jeffy was my prey. Poor artlefs maid ! to ftain thy fpotlefs name, Expence, and art, and toil, united {trove ; To lure a breaft that felt the pureft flame, Suftain'd by virtue, but betray'd by love. School'd in the fcience of love's mazy wiles, I cloth'd each feature with affefted fcorn ; I ipok-e of jealous doubts, and fickle fmiies, And, feigning, left her anxious and forlorn. Then, -while the fancy'd rsge alarm'd her care, Warm to deny, and zealous to difprove, I bade my words their wonted foftnefs wear, And feiz'd the minute of returning love. To thee, my Damon, dare I paint the reft ? Will yet thy love a candid ear incline? Affur'd that virtue, by misfortune preft, Feeds not the fharpnefs of a pang like mine. Nine envious moons matur'd her growing fhame; Ere while to flaunt it in the face of day; When fcorn'd of virtue, ftigmatiz'd by t'ame, Low at my feet defponding Jeffy lay. '' Henry," me faid, " by thy dear form fubdued, See the fad relics of a nymph undone : I find, I find this riling lob renew'd ; I ligh in fhades, and f:ck,en at the fun. " Amid the dreary gloom of night. I cry, When will the morn's onc79 ] Soon may the rulers of this mighty land, To eafe your !ovruv,-$, itreich tl.e helping hand; Life fooi'.. too u:::r M your hspleis fate (hall be, Like me to fi.:fTer, to depart like inc. " On ycuir dear native land, from whence I part, P.e'.l the beii bkilings or a broken heart. If, in foiiu- future hour, the foe fhould land Kis hoilile legions on Britannia's ft rand. May Che net then th' slarum found in vain, Nor mil's her banifh'd thouiands on the plain. ' ; Feed rn. my Cheep : for though dcpriv'd of me, My cu'el foes Chall your protectors be ; For their own fakes, fliall pen your draggling flocks, And fave your Ismbkir.s from the rav'r.ing fox. " Feed o i. my goats ; another now fhall drain Your it reams thr.t heal difeafe, and foften pain: No ftreflms, alas ! can ever, ever flow To heal your mailer's heait, or foothe his woe. " Feed on. my flocks; ye harmlefs people, feed, The woril that ye can fuffer is to bleed. O, that the muid'rer's fteel were all my fear! How fondly would I flay to perifh here But hark ! my Ions loud call me from the vale, And, lo ! the veffel fpreads her fwelling fail. Farewell ! farewell!" Awhile his hands he rung, And o'er his crook in fpeechlefs forrow hung; Then, calling many a ling'ring look behind, Down the fteep mountain's brow began to wind. TRANSLATION OF STANZAS AGAINST AMBITION. FROM ROUSSEAU. DOWN the bright weft the ftar of day Has lunk its glories from the view ; And, hidden Icarce its glowing ray, Begins its wonted courie anew. How fwiftly flew the vanifh'd year ! fen fo fhall this, its fweet fupply ; E'en fo be known, to human cave Irrevocably loll, to die. Thus pa.Tes all, by Time contvol'd, To an irremediable doom; One tranfient moment, fcarcely told, rinds, by another's birth, a tomb. The richeft year when teems the plain, In foiar pride the brightest day, Retires ne'er to return rgain. Is only fiiown to pals away. So, fix'd an equal law to fhare, The f;.te of .tvanfitory man ; Juft entcr'd on life'* ihort career, His journey to the grave began. Then, in a fccne fo foon to cloic, Why fill with boundlels cares the bread ? Why lofe thele fleecing hours for thole, As fwift to vanifh when pofiefs'd ? Since that drend moment is unknown, When Death his mortal prey lecures, Live while this moment is yo.ir own ; Delay not till the next is yours. Alas! how pitiable his woes, Who, by corroding toil opprefs'd, Panting for wealth, his eafe foregoes, And is unhappy to be blefb'd ! Wing'd by fedncive Fancy, flies Each brighter hour of health and youth ; The prefent blifs untafted dies, He woos a doubtful fhade for truth. Ye madmen ! who to mental ft rife And idle views your moments give ; No time allow'd to think on life, Ye die ere ye have learn'd to live! The pvefcnt hour is Wifdom's en re, From your deceitful error free ; Let not the good we can embrace Unprpfitably mock the view ; Nor let the ardour of the chafe Deitroy the pleafure we puriue. The moment pail is ours no more, The future we may ne'er attain ; The p iv lent is the only ftore We have to che-nfh or difdain. AN ELEGY, ^'iltten tfhiong the Ruins of a Nobleman's Seat in Cornwall, MOORE, AMIDST thefe venerable drear remains Of r.ncier.t grandeur, muling fad I ftray ; Around a melanchojy fiier.ce reigns 1 hat prompts me to indulge the plaintive lay. Here liv'd Eugenio born of noble race, Aloft his maniion ro!e, (around were feen ExU-nfive gardens deck'd with ev'ry grace, . Ponds, walks, and groves, through all the feafons green.) Ah ! where is now its boafted beauty fled ? Proud turrets that once glitter'd in the fky, And broken columns in confufion fpread, A rude mifhapen heap of ruins lie. Of fplendid rooms no trsces here are found ; How arc thefe tott'ring walls by time dcfac'd, Shagg'd with vile thorn, with twining ivy bound, Once hung with tapeftry, with paintings giac'd ! In ancient times perhaps, where now I tread, Licentious Riot crown'd the midnight bowl; Her dainties Lux'ry pour'd, and Beauty fpread Her artful fnares to captivate the foul. Or here, attended by a chofen train Of innocent delights, true Grandeur dwelt, Difl'iifing blefliugs o'er the diftant plain, Health, joy, and happinefs by thoufands felt. Around now fo'itude unjoyous reigns, No gay-gilt chariot hither marks the wayr No no re with cheerful hopes the needy f wains At ihe once-bounteous gate their vifits pay. \Vhsre too is now the garden's beauty fled, Which ev'ry clini.e was ranfack'd to Supply? O'er the drear fpot fee defolation fpread, And the difmantled wails in ruin lie. Dead are the trees that once, with niceft car Anan'd. from o'ntn bloffoms fh And thick with frr.i'?.^c itood, the p<.ndar.t pear, The ruddy-colour'd peach, and glofly plum. the terrafs-walks ars rag^na: ecn The prickly bramble and the no'.iomc weed, Beneath v.'hofe covert crawls the toad obfcene, And fnakes and adders unmoleited breed, The crrovcs where Picnfure walk'd he In yonder wide-extended vale helow, Where olkrs f'pread. a pond capacious T, ood ; Froin far by art the dream wa> taught t-> f.o-.v. Whou; liquid, ftores fupply'd th' unfailing flood. Of: here the filent angler took his place, i'ntent to captivate the fczly fry But per-Pn'd now are ail the nunvrous race, Uiirab is the fountain, and the channel dry. Here then, ye grc:t! behold th' uncertain itato Of earthly grandeur beauty. (Lrength. and pow'i Alike aie iubiecl to the Stroke of fate, And flounih but the glory of an hour. Virtue alone no dilTolution fears, Still ;)2;-:r.2::e-.:t though a~es roll a\vay : o , on her immortal bans, rears rc time can ne'er decav. ADDRESS TO POVERTY, 5 r T" > IS not that look of anguifh hath'd in tcnrsj JL O Povertv ! thy haggard image wears 'Tis not thole famifh'd limbs, naked and bare To the bleak temper's rain, or the keen air Of winter's piercing winds ; nor that lad eye Imploring the {mall boon of charity 'Tis not that voice, whole agonizing talc Might turn the purple cheek of Grandeur pale; Nor all that hoft of woes thou hring'il with thee, In'ult. contempt, difdain, and contumely ; That bid me call the fate of thofe forlorn, \Vho 'neath thy rude oppreflion figh and mourn : But ch'.er, relentle'.s pow'r ! thy hard control, V.'hich to the earth bends low tlv alpiring foul ; Thin^ iron graip, thy fetters drear, which bind Each gea'rous effort of the ftruggling mind ; Alas ! that Genius, melancholy ilow'r ! Scarce op'ning yet to even's nurt'ring fhow'r, Should, by thy pitilefs and cruel doom, Wither ere Nr.t'.ire i'miies upon her bloom ! That Innocence, touch'd by thy dead'ning wand, Should pine, nor know one outftretch'd guardian hand ! Forties, O Poverty! for them, I figh, The helplcis vi6tims of thy tyranny! For t'.iis, I call the lot of thofe feverc, Who wander 'mid thy haunts, and pine unheeded therc..- TIIE MODERN RAKE'S PROGRESS. Hb'RDIS. r T^IIE young Tobias was his father's joy ; JL tie train'd him, as he thought* to deeds of praife ; He t3ii",' !| t him virtue, and he taught him truth, And lent him earlv to a public fciioo 1 .. Here as it fecm'd (but he had none to blame) Virtue forfook him, and habitual vice Grew in her Read. He laugh'd at honefty, Became a fceptic, and could raifo a doubt E'en of his father's truth. 'TwTS idly done ^ To tell him of another world, tor wits [ 4 1 Knew better ; and the only good on eartk \Vas pU'afure; not to follow that was iin. " Sure he thct made us, made us to enjoy; And why," faid he, " mould my fond father prate Ot virtue and religion ? They afford No joys, and would abridge the fcanty few Of Nature. Nature be my deity ! Her let me worfhip, as herfelf enjoins. At the full board of plenty !" Thoughtlefs boy ! So to a libertine he grew, a wit, A man of honour; boaftful, empty names, That dignify the villain. Seldom ieen, And when at home, under a cautious mafic Concealing the lewd foul, his father thought He grew in wifdom as he grew in years. He fondly deem'd he could perceive the growth Of goodneis and of learning mooting up, Like the young offspring of the fhclter'd hop, Unufual progrefs in a fummer's night. He call'd him home, with great applsufe difmifs'd By his glad tutors gave him good advice Blefs'd him, and bade him profper. With warm heart, He drew his purfc-ftrings, and the utmoit doit Pour'd in the youngftcv's pdm. ' Away," he cries, " Go to the feat of learning, boy. Be good, Be wife, be frugal, for 'tis all I C3n." ' ; I will," faid Toby, as he bang'd the door, And wink'd, and fnapp'd his finger, " fir, I will." So joyful he to Alma Mater went, A fturdy irefh-man. See him jufi arriv'd, Receiv'd, matriculated, and relolv'd To drown his fiemneis in a pipe of port. " Quick, Mr. Vintner, twenty dozen more; Some claret, too. Here's to our friends at home. There let 'em doze. Be it our nobler aim To live where Hands the bottle ?" Then to town Hies the gay fpark for futile purpofes, And deeds my baihfiil mule difdains to name. From town to college, till a frelh fupply Sends him again from collewe up to town. The tedious interval the maee and cine, The tennis-court and racket, the flow lounge J'rom I'rcet to ilvcet. the badgtr-hunt. the race, The raffle, the excuruon, and the da;:ce, Ices ajid Io;:ps. ilice, and the l>*t .it wliift, [ 85 J Serve well enough to fill. Grievous accounts The weekly poll to the vex'd parent brings, Ot college impohtions, heavy dues, Demands enormous, which the wicked Ton Declares he doe;> his utmolt to prevent. - So, blaming with good caufe the va(t expence, Bill after bill he fends, and pens the draft Till the full ink-horn fails. With grateful heart Toby ixveives, fhort leave of ab fence begs, Obtains it by a lie. gallops away, And no one knows what charming things are doing, Till the guli'd boy returns without his pence, And prates of deeds unworthy of a brute. Vile deeds, but fuch as in thcle polifh'd days None blames or hides. So Toby fares, nor heeds, Till terms are wafted, and the proud degree, Soon purchas'd, comes his learned toils to crown. He fwears, and (wears he knows not what, nor cares, Bt'corr.es a perjur.'d graduate, and thinks foon To be a candidate tor orders. Ah ! Vain was the hope. Though many a wolf as fell Deceive the fhepherd, and devour the flock, Thou none (halt injure. On a lucklefs day. Withdrawn to tafte the pleafures of the town, Heated with wine, a vehement difpute With a deteftcd rival ("hook the roof : lie penn'd a challenge, Cent it, fought, and fell. The GOLDFINCH and the LINNET. MRS. BARBAULD. AGnudy Goldfinch, pert and gay, Hopping blithe from fpray to (pray, Full of frolic, ful! of fpring, Wit'a head we'.I-pkim'd and burnifli'd wing, Spied a fober Linnet hen Sitting all alone, And bow'd and chirp, d, and bow'd again; And with familiar tone He thus the dame addrefs'd, As to her fide he ciofely prefs'd : H " I hope, my dear, I don't intrude, By breaking on your folitude ; But it has always been my paflion To forward pleafant converiation ; And I fhould be a flupid bird To pafs the fair without a word ; I, who have been for ever noted To be the fex's moil devoted. Befides, a damfel unattended, Left unnotic'd and unfriended, Appears (excufe me) fo forlorn, %hat I cati fcarce fuppofe, By any fhe that e'er was born, 'Twould be the thing fhe chofe. How happy, then, I'm now at leifurc To wait upon a lady's pleafure ; And all this morn have naught to do But pay my duty, love, to you. What, filent! Ah! thofe looks demure, And eyes of languor, make me fur That, in my random idle chatter, I quite miilook the matter. It is not fpleen or contemplation That draws you to the cover ; But 'tis fome tender aflignation ; Well ! who's the favour'd lover ? I met hard by, in quaker fuit, A youth ledately grave and mute ; And from the maxim, like to like, Perhaps the fober youth might ftrike. Yes, yes, 'tis he, I'll lay my life, Who hopes to get you for a wife. But come, my dear, I know you're wife, Compare and judge, and ufe your eyes. No female yet could e'er behold The luftre of my red a:id gold, My iv'ry bill and jetty creft, But all was done, and I was blefs'd. Come, brighten up, and aft with fpirit, And take the fortune that you merit." He ceas'd, Linnetta thus replied, With cool contempt and decent pride : 'Tis pity, fir, a youth fo fweet, In form and manners fo complete, C '87 ] SLouId do an humble maid the honour To wafte his precious time upon her. A poor forlakcn fhc, you know, Can do no credit to a beau ; And worfe would be the cafe, If, meeting one whofe faith was plighted, He fhould incur the fad diigrace Of being flighted. Now. fir, thefoter-fuitcd \outh, Whom you were pleas'd to mention, To thoie fmnll merits, fenie and truth, f - And gen'rous love, has fome pretenfion. And then, to give him all his due, He fings, fir, Full as well as you, And fometimes can be filent, too. In fhort, my tafle is fo perverfc, And fuch my wayward fate, That it would be my greateft curfe To liave a coxcomb to my mate." This faid, away fhe feuds, And leaves beau Goldfinch in the fuds. EPITAPH on Mrs. ROBLVSOX's TOMBSTONE, In the Church of Old Wind/or. PRATT. OF Beauty's ifle. her daughters mufl declare, She who deeps here was fairelt of the fair. But, ah ! while Nature on her fav'rite fmil'd. And Genius claim'd his fliare in Beauty's child ; Ev'n as they wove a garland for her brow, Sorrow prepar'd a willowy wrenih of woe : Mix'd lurid nightfhade with the buds of May, And twin'd her darkeft cypre's v/ii.li the bay : In mildew tears iteep'd ev'ry op'ning fiow'r, Prcy'd on the fweets, and gave the canker pow'r : Yet, O ! may PiLy's angei, iiom the grave, This early victim of misfortune lave! And, as (he fpiinrjs to cverla'Un^ morn; May glory's tadekls crown ixr loui aduin! THE FOREST YOUTH. FROM OlSBORN'E'S '< WALKS IN A FOREST." OMCIC by yon poplars, through whole twinkling fhide, \Vith fruttkfs glance, the oft-reflected beam Struggled, nor u-ach'd the duiky flood beneath, An ancient mill a;-ofe. The relllef's wheel Scattcr'd the. i'parkl::;g wave amid the gloom, And broke the noon-day iilence of the -wood. 'Twas there a youth with care fraternal footh'd A much-lov'd filler, while a parent loft, An aged mother whom his toil had fed, Their mingling tears deplor'd. One fummer eve, As from fhort abfence he return'd, he r fhiieks. Shrieks as though racking pangs o'er life ptevail'cl. He heard. The whirling millftone, as fhe mov'd Unwitting of the danger, feiz'd her arm, And crufh'd each muicle. The remorfelefs gripe He loos'd. Art lent its healing aid in vain. Nine days in anguifh o'er her couch he hung ; The tenth he clos'd her eyes. The murd'rous ftone, The floor ftill fpotted with a fifkr's blood, The confcious poplars, and the fatal ft ream, He could no more behold. His native land He left for ever; ftcmm'd the weitern main : And fix'd in depths. of folitude to hide His grief, on Pennfylvania's utmoft bound. Where to man's heav'n-appointcd rule her fons Bend the untamed wildcrncfs, prepar'd To rear his dwelling. The Stupendous fcene, Unlike the humbler wild that gave him birth, Amaz'd he view'd ; th' interminable wafle. The woods of giant growth, the piny fwamp Darkening the humid air : and oft would note Curious the wings unknown that crofs'd the glade, And mark the fcaly ferpent as he flunk Through ruftling leaves, or, darting onward, fhoak The warning rattle; or, befidc t'-c root Of foine time-honour'd trunk in ipiral folds Coil'd motionlefs, his fafcinating eye Fix'd on the confcious viftim perch'd above, Chain'd by the potent glance, the hdpld's prey, With piteous cries and wildly-rufiled plumes, flutter'd from bou"h to bou^n. dffceoding flill. r 189 ] Xoj munn'd the jaws of c-jat'n that g?v>'d below. Meanwhile of rugged logs his cnt he tranrd, And ilopp'd each chink withmois, icil ieaivhing rains, Or inows by winter's gufty breath impell'd, Should drench his nightly couch : then from the foil Clear'd the rough brufnwood. and round ev'ry ftem Of ampler girth the fatal circle drew.* Blighted and wan, the vernal foliage mourn'd Its intercepted nutriment, and ftrew'd The ground, as when the gale of autumn whirls The Italy ihow'r : the folitary trunks Frown'd on the rifing harveft. Time ere long Loofen'd the roots, and tempefts on the plain The thundering downfall hurl'd : the midnight crafh Startled the foreft. Each fucceeding Coring .Beheld the waite retire. The paltur'd field, The emerald meadow, and the waving gleam Of corn by breezes mov'd, and all the charms Of hard-earn'd home, bade peace the exile's brow Dilate, and brighten the yet heaving tide Of ancient forrow : in the void of air As the red moon new-rifen o'er ocean hangs, Streams a long line of radiance on the flood, And golden billows welter to the fhore. One vernal eve. as wrspp'd in lonely thought Ho trr.c'd his confines, from the bordering watte An aged man came forth : his tottering fteps, With looks of filial love, a maiden watch'd, And propp'd him with her arm; and when he figh'd, Sigrrd deeper, yet in hafte the found reftrain'd, Left he mould mark it. From the voice of woe The exile never turn'd : the fire he join'd, And afk'd his grief. Long in a diftant wild He dwelt in peace. With malice unprovok'd, And thiril of plunder fir'd, an Indian band. What time no pitying moon-beam fpake their guile, Stole on his fleep. At once with favage yell The war-whoop echo'd fiom the wood ; the torch Flung frequent feiz'd the roof; the Ihiver'd door * The general motle of rlearinc the land in this country, v.'here timber U of no value, ami labour of great, is by cut- ting H rircle round the tree, throng 1 ! the bark, quite to the wood, rirfore the lap rifes, which kills it. They cultivate th = jjr.T.ind below immediately, lea-, in^ the trees ta rut {landing, v.hich happens in a very few ytais. Sunk from the ftroke ; his fon the onfct brav'd With fraitlefs arms ; the fhriek of death was heard, And life's laft drops the gafhmg tom'hawk drairi'd. Fierce on the fpoil the murderers rufh'd : unfeen The fire and daughter fled, forlorn to roam, Think on the flain, and beg their daily food. Thy throbbings, Memory, in the exile's breaft The fad recital wak'd. With faltering lip He footh'd the wanderers, to his mar.fion led, And cried, " Behold your home ! ?nd may the Pow'r Who feeming evil into good transforms, Who pitying faw, when Soirow at your peace Her kecneft arrows aim'd, as once at mine, Bind up the wound !" Nor many a moon had fir'd And quench'd her varying crefcent, ere that home Could pleafe no more, unlefs the ftranger maid Call'd it of right her own. For fhe was fair As piftur'd Innocence ; and mental grace Spoke in each feature. Soon th' enraptur'd youth Th' impaffion'd fecret told. With downcalt eye And burning cheek fhe liften'd to his tale ; Own'd the quick pulfe that trembled at her heart, And nam'd it gratitude, but felt it Jove. Weeping for joy, the fire their union hail'd : With hands to heaven uprais'd, his children blefs'd ; And fmiling years proclaim'd the blefling heard. -<*- THE DRUM. I Hate the drum's difcordant found, Parading round, and round, and round To thoughtlefs youth it plcafure yields, And lures from cities and from fields, To fell their liberty for charms Of tawdry lace and glitt'ring arms ; And, when Ambition's voice commands, To march, and fight, and fall in foreign lan I hate the drum's difcordant found, Parading round, and round, and round ; To me it talks of ravag'd plains, Of burning towns, and ruin'd fwains, C '9i ] Of mangled limbs and dying groans, Of widows' tears, and orphans' moans ; And all that mis'ry's hand beflows, To fill the catalogue of human woes. ON PROCRASTINATION. BE wife to-day; 'tis madncfs to defer: Next day the fatal precedent will plead ; Thus on, till wifclom is pufh'd out of life. Procraftination is the thief of time; Year after year it fteals, till all are fled, And to the mercies of a moment leaves The vail concerns of an eternal fcene. Of man's miraculous miftakes this bears The palm, " That all men are about to live," Fov ever on the brink of being born. All pay themfelves the compliment to think They, one day, fhall not drivel; and their pride, On this reverlion, takes up ready praife; At leaft their own ; their future felves applauds ; How excellent that life they ne'er will lead ! Time lodg'd in thfir own hands is Folly's vails ; That lodg : d in Fate's, to Wiidom they confign ; The thing they oin't but nurpofe, they poftpone. 'Tis not in folly not to fcorn a fool ; And fcarce in human wifdom to do more. All promife is poor dila'o.-y man. And that through every fta^e. When young, indeed, In full content we fometimes nobly reft, Unsnxious for ourfelves; and only wifh, As duteous fons, our fathers were more wife. At thirty, man fufpefts himlelf a fool ; Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan ; At fifty, chides his infamous delay, Fumes his prudent parpofe to refolve ; In ell the magnanimity of thought, Refolvei, and re-refolves, then dies the fame. And why ! becaufe he thinks hi ml- If immortal. All men think all men mortal, but themfelves ; Themfelves, when fume alarming fhock of fate [ 192 ] Strikes through their wounded heart the fudden dread ; But their hearts wounded, like the wounded air. Soon clofe ; where pafs'd the (haft, no trace is found, As from the wing no fear the fky retains ; The parted wave no furrow from the keel ; So dies in human hearts the thought of death. Ev'n with the tender tear which nature fheds O'er thofe we love, we drop it in their grave. Y To tin LILIES of the VALLEY. IE lowly children of the fhelter'd vale, Like modeft worth by icornful pride difdain'd, Your little fleeting life Who waite unfeen, unknown ; In verdant veil how bafhfully enwrapp'd. Ye fhun th' officious hand, the fearchful fight, With downcaft, penfive eye, And ever-mufmg heads ! Ah! when I view your meek, your humble mien, And all your highly-breathing fragrance tafte, How bleeds my fadd'ning foul For unprotefted worth ! How bleeds to think, that moral excellence Is doom'd to live forgot, unheeded die ! For in your fhort-liv'd charms Is piftur'd well its fate. For ye, ere yet the morning's rifing gale Shall wing its early courfe, may ceafe to greet, With the fwtet breath of love, The wakeful wanderer's way. Nor longer virtue's boaft! a little day, A little hour, fhe blooms ! Nor can her pow'r Us helplefs viftims fhield From the unpitying grave. Then come, my Anna's faithful bofom deck : For ever there true worth, true wifdom dwell. Congenial to your ftate, Soft in that heaven reft. C *93 ] There fhall no bufy infeft dare obtrude-, Your fweets to ritle with perfidious kils; While ye more fragrance taltc Than in your native beds. Your higheft incenfe breathe, to emulate Thoie more than opening morning's 1 pureft fweeti, That (it on rofy lips Of imiling chaftity. CONTENTMENT. AN EPISTLE TO A FRIEND. PRITHEF., teaze me no more, dear troub!e r otne friend, On a tubjeft which wants not advice : You may make me unhappy, but never can mend Thole ills I have Icarn'd to defpife. You fay I'm dependent what then? if I make That dependence quite eafy to me, Say, why ftiould you envy my lucky miftake ? Or why mould I wifh to be free ? Many men of lefs worth, you partially cry, To (plendour and opulence ioar : Suppofe I allow it : Yet pray, fir, am I Lefs happy, becauie they are more ? But why faid I happy ? I aim not at that ; Mere cafe is my humble requeft ; I would neither repine at my niggardly fate, \'or flretch my wings far from my neft ! Nor e'er may my pride or my folly refleft On the fav'rites which fortune has made ; Regardlefs of thoufands who pine with negleft In penfive obfcurity's fhade. With whom when comparing the merit I boaft, Though rais'd by indulgence to fame, I fink in confufion, bewilder'd and loll, And wonder I am what I am. And what are thefe wonders, thefe bleffings refin'd, Which fplendour and opulence fhow'r? [ '94 ] The health of the body and peace of the mind A;c things that are out of their pow'r. To contentment's calm funfhine, the lot of the few, Can infolent greatnefs pretend ? Or can it beftpw, what I boaft of in you, That bleffmg of bleffings, a friend ? \Ve may pay fome regard to the rich and the great, And how feldom we love them, you know; But if we do love them, it is not their ftate, The tinfel and plume of the fhow : But fome fecret virtue we find in the heart, Wrwn the mafk. is laid kindly afide : Which birth cannot give them, r.or riches impart, And which never once heard of their pride. A flow of good fpirits we've feen with a fmile To worth make a (hallow pretence; And the chat of good breeding, with eafe, for a while, May pafs for good-nature and ienfe. But where is the bofom untainted with art, The judgment fo modeft and ftsid, That union fo rare ol the head and the heart, Which fixes the friend it lias made ? As for thofe whom the great and the wealthy employ, Their pleafurc's or vanity's Haves. Whate'er they can give, I without them enjoy, And am rid of juft fo many knaves. Nor the many whom titles alone can allure, The blazon of ermine and gules, I wrap inyfelf round in my lownefs ficure, And am rid of juft fo many fools. Then why fhould I covet what cannot increafe- My delights, and may leffen my ft ore ? My prefent condition is quiet and eafe, And what can my future be more ? Should Fortune capricioufly ceafe to be coy, And in torrents of plenty defcend, I, dou'oiiL'is. like others, fhould ciafp her wiih joy And my wants and my wifhes extend. But fince 'tis denied me, and Heaven befl. knows Whether kinder to grant it or not, f >S5 ] Sav, why fhouid I \Viniy diflurb my repofc, Or peevifhly c;irp at my lot ? No: ftill !tt ir.i: follow fr.gc Horace's rule, Try ail things, and hold fait the heft; Lea; Vi dailv to put all my paiTjons to fchool, Anci keep the due poile of my breaft. Thus fair at the helm. I glide calmly away, Like th^- merchant long us'd to the deep ; Nor iii.-i't tor my lately, on life's liormy lea, To the gilding and paint of my fhip. NCM e'er may the giants of honour and pdf My want of ambition deride : He who rules his own bofom, is lord of himfelff And lord of all nature beiides. ELEGY. THE DEAD BEGGAR. \Vritten in the Church-Yard at Brighthelmftone, on feeing the Funeral of a Pauper, who perifhed for Want. MRS. SMITH. SWELLS then thy fwelling heait. and ftrearrxs thine eye, O'er tne ueferted being, poor and old, Vi'hom cold, reluftant parifh charity Configr.i to mingle with his kindred mould ? Mourn'ft thou. that here the time-worn fuff 'rer ends Thofe evil days that promis'd woes to come ? Here, where the friendlefs feel no want of friends, Where e'en the houfelefs wand'rer finds a home? What though no kindred crowd in fable forth, And figh, or feem to figh, around the bier : Thoueh o'er his coffin, with the humid earth, No children drop the unavailing tear : Rather rejoice that here his forrows ceafe, Whom ficknefs, age, and poverty opprefs'd ; Where Death, the leveller reftores to peace The wretch who, living, knew not where to reft. t '96 ] Ah ! think that this poor outcaft, fpurn'd hy fatf, Who a long race of pain and foirow ran, Is, in the grave, e'en as the rich and great: Death vindicates th' infulted rights of man. Rejoice that, though fevere his early doom, Though rude, and ftiew'd with thorns, the path he trod, Now, where unfeeling fortune cannot come, He refts upou " the bolbm of his GOQ." TO STELLA. BULL. SAY, why that deep and frequent figh Heaves thy foft bofom, gentle fair ? The tear that trembles in thine eye. Ah ! flows it from the fount of care ? Thou look'ft, my love, like fome fair flow'r Sinking beneath the dewy fhow'r. Too well I gucfs thy fecret woe; Thou weep'ft to think that one fhort day May bid thy beauties ceale to glow, And pilfer cv'ry grace away : 'Tis this that raelts thy tearful eyes. And heaves thy tender breaft with fighs. Yet fhall not all thy beauties fade, Beneath rough Time's auilere control ; His keeneil froil fhall ne'er invade The bright receffes of thy foul, Which, purer than the veftal flame, For ever burns, and burns the fame. LINES written in a GARDEN SEAT. IF mirth alone to thee be dear, If forrow ne'er thy heart refin'd, If frolic youth thy bofom cheer. And fpirits light, and Fortune kind, No longer let thine eye perufe \Vhat here inlerib'd thy glance may fee ; [ 197 ] For I this art'efs verfe would choofc Unmark'cl by mortals blefs'd like thee. But, ftrangcr! at the touch of pain It e'er thy heart was dootn'd to thrill; If melancholy ever de ; gn To fteep thy foul in (lumbers dill ; If harfh unklndnefs e'er for thee Prepar'd that keen envenom'd dart, Which u-ndernefs can feldom flee, And left it rankling in thy heart: Thee I wou'.d greet with kindlieft by, Would fay. like tht-e that others niounij And chide thee foft, if chide I may, And bid thee bear what I have borne. And tell thee, ftranger ! if to me Thy facred griefs had but been known, One heart at leait had felt for thee, And made thy iorrows all its own. HYMN ON CREATION. MRS. BARBAULD. JF.IIOVAH reigns, let ev'ry nation hear. And ?.<. his footftool bow. with holy fear; Let i'.eav'n's high arches echo with his name, And the wide peopled earth his praife proclaim : Then fend it down to hell's deep gloom refounding. Through all her caves in dreadful murmurs founding,. II j rules with wide arid abfolute command O : ei t!,e broad ocean and the ftedfaft land ; Jehovah reigns unbounded and alone, And all creation hangs beneath his thione : He reigns alone ; let no inferior nature Uiurp or fhare the throne of the Creator. Me faw the ftruggling beams of infant light Si/iot through the iviaify gloom of ancient night ; liis fpirit luifh'd the elemental ftrire, And brooded o'er the kindling feeds of life : Seafons and months began their long proceflio;i k And meafur'd o'er the year in bright (ucceflioii. The joyful fun fprung up th' etherial way, ST'.>" ;, as a giant, as a bridegroom gay ; And tlir p?le moon diffus'd her fhadowy light, Superior. o'er the dufky biow of night : Ten tho'ifar.d glitt'ring lamps the fkios adorning. Num'rous as dew-drops from the womb of morning. Earth's blooming face with rifing flow'rs he drefs'd, A.'id fprf?d a verdant mantle o'er her breaft; Then from the hollow of his hand he pours The circling waters round her winding fnores ; The new-born world in their rool arms embracing, And with loft murmurs full her banks careifing, At length fhe rofe complele in finirn'd pride, All fair and fpotlefs, like a virgin bvide ; Frefh with untarnifn'd lullre as fhe flood, Her Maker blefs'd his work, and call'd it good ; Th.e morning ftars, with joyful acclamation, Exulting fang, and hail'd the new creation. Yet this fair world, the creature of a day, Though built by God's right hand, mult pafs away; And long oblivion creep o'er mortal things, The fate of empires, r.nd the pride of kings : Eternal night fhail veil their pro::deft i'tory, And drop the curtain o'er all human glory. The fun himfelf, with weary clouds opprcft. Shall in his filent, dark pavilion reft; His golden urn fhall broke and uieleis lie, Amidit the common ruins of the fky : The ftars rufh headlong in the wild commotion, And bathe their glitt'nng foreheads in the ocean. But fix'd, O God ! for ever (lands thy throne : Jehovah reigns, a univerfe alone : Th' eternal fire that feeds each vital flame, Collected or diffus'd. is dill the fame : He dwells within his own unfathom'd cffence, And fills all fpace with his unbounded prefence. But, oh ! our higheft notes the theme debafe, And filence is our leaft injurious praife; Ceafe. ceafe your fongs, the daring flight control, Revere him in tile ftillnefs of the foul : \Vitli lilciit duly meekly bend befoie him. And deep witiiin your inmoit hearts aacce hins. [ 199 1 ON HEARING VILLAGE BELLS, AFTER AN ABSENCE. WHEN toft I liiten'd to thofe village bells, Cheerful and merry in the difbnt vale, 'Tvvas ev'ning, and Matilda's bridal day; Bright on the beauteous fcene the fun-beams fhone : Methought the genii of domeltic blifs, And focial comfort, hail'd her to its throne: Ideal joy! but one fhort year has fled, And all chofe hours of envied happinefs, \Vhen lait I heard their ioft enchanting peal, Are now no more! their mournful mufic fends A fadnefs to my heart, as loft it fwells Refponfive through the grove to her death bed Is poor Matilda gone, with many friends, Crofs'd by the cares that crowd life's rugged way. OF A NIGHTINGALE. FOR Elufmo loft, renew the ftrain, Pour the f:.d note upon the ev'ning gale; And. as the length'ning (hades uiurp the plain, The filent moon fhall liften to the tale. Sore was the time ill-fated was the hour, The thicket fliook with many an omen dire! When from the topmoft twig of yonder bow'r, I faw my hufband tremble and expire. 'Twas when the peafant fought his twilight reft Beneath the brow of yonder breezy hill; 'Twas when the plumy nation fought the neft, And all, but fuch as lov'd the night, were ftill ; That as I fat with all a lover's pride, (As was my cultom when the fun withdrew) Dear Elufmo, fudden left my fide, And the curs'd form of man appcar'd in view. For fport the tube he levell'd at our head, And, curious to behold more near my race, .Low in the copfe the artful robber laid, Explor'd our haunt, and thunder'd at the place. [ 200 ] I'igratefiil wretch ! be was Our fh?pherd's for; The harmlefs good old tenant of yon cot ! That fhepherd would not fuch a deed have clone ! 'Twas love to him that fix'd us to this fpot. Oft. as at eve his homeward fteps he bent, When the laborious tafk of rlay w?s o'er, Our mellow'd warbling footh'd him as he went, Till the charm'd hind forgot that he was poor. Ah ! could not this thy gratitude infpire? Could not our gentle violations pleafe ? Could not the blamelcfs leffons of thy fire Iveitrain thy barb'rous hand from crimes liWe theft ? Oh. cruel boy ! thou tyrant of the plain ! Couldft thou but fee the forrows thou haft made, Or didft thou know the virtues thou haft (bin, And view the gloomy horrors of the fhade : Coiildft tbou behold my infant younglings 1,-y, IP. the iriofs cradle, which our bills prepare! ; Babes as they were the offspring of the dav Their wings defencelefs, and their bofoms bar'd : Surely the mighty malice of thy kind. Thy pow'r to wiong. e'.id rcadmeis to kill, In common pity, to the parent's mind. Would ceafe the new-made father's blood to f;>;il. Haply the time may come, when heav'n fhsll - a (\^ To thee the troubles thou haft heap'd on me. Hsply ere well thy babes begin to live, Death may prcfent the dsrt of mifery. Jufl as the tender hope begins to rife, As the fond mother hugs her darling boy ; As the big rapture trcrr.bks in the eyes, And the breaft throbs with ail a parent's joy ; Then may fome midnight robber fkill'd in guile, Refolv-'d on plunder and on deeds of death, Thy fairy profpetts tender trar.fports fpoil. And to the knife refign thy children's breath ! In that fad moment fhsli thy favage heart. Feel the keen anguifh. dcfperate arid wild, Conlcience forlorn, ihail doubly poii-t the i'mnrl; And juftice whifper ihis is child for child. 'Reft of their fire my babes, alas ! muft. figh For grief obflruds the widow's anxious care ; This walled form this ever-weeping eye, And the deep note of dellitute delpair; All load this bofotn with a fraught fo fore, Scarce can I cater for their daily food! Where'er I fearch my hufband (earch'd before And loon my nefl will hold an orphan brood. STANZAS to the MEMORY of BURNS. PORTENTOUS figh'd the hollow blaft, Which, forrow-freighted, fouthward pals'd; I heard the found, and flood aghaft, In folemn dread : The mournful truth is told at laft, And BURNS is dead ! Ah, fwcetefl minflrel ! Nature's child ! Could not thy " native wood-notes wild," Thy manly fcnfe, thy manners mild, And fprightly glee, The ghaflly tyrant have beguil'd To fet thee free ? Unfriended, defolate, and young, Misfortune o'er thy cradle hung ; And Penury had check'd thy fong, But check'd in vain; Till Death, refiftlefs in his wrong, Has clos'd the ftrain ! Thus, 'midfl the cold of winter's fnows, The unprotected fnow-drop blows; Awhile in native beauty glows, And charms the eyes ; Till paft fome ruthlefs fpoiler goes, And crops the prize. But not for thee, O bard ! the lot In cold oblivion's ihade to rot, Like thofe unhonour'd and forgot, Th' unfeeling great, Who knew thy worth, but hailen'd not To loothe thy fate, [ 202 ] Whilft Love to Beauty pours the figh, Wliilfl Genius fhall with Nature vie, WhiUt Pity, from the melting eye, Shall claim regard ; Thy honour'd name fhall never die, Immortal bard I But oft as winter, o'er the plain, Shall pour at eve the beating rain, The hind fhall call his little train Around the fire,, To liflen to fome thrilling ftrain Of thy lov'd lyre. Whether to Heav'n's eternal King Thou ftrike the deep-refounding firing, Whilft, rifing on Devotion's wing, Hope foars above, To happier realms of endlefs fpring, And boundlefs love: Or whether lighter themes beguile The moments of relaxing toil, Bidding on Labour's front the fmile Of pleafure fit, The roof re-echoing all the while To genuine wit ; Or if wild Fancy feize the rein % Whilft horror thrills through ev'ry vein, And fprites and elves, an awful train, Their orgies keep; And warlocks o'er the frighted plain At midnight fweep : As works the fpell, the lifl'ning band Aghaft in mute attention ftand ; Again thou wav'ft thy magic wand Of pow'r fo rare. And all the fcene, by Fancy plann'd, Diffolves in air. Thine too the charm of focial hearts, Where wit its vivid lightning darts, Where converfe keen to age imparts The fire of youth, Whiift from the fierce concuffion ftarts The fpark of truth. What though thy wild, untutor'd flrain The clitic's pedant laws difdain, Not a41 the wire-cag'u minion train E'er pour'd a note So fweet as, echoing o'er the plain, The woodlark's throat. Old Coita, firft, whofe brakes among Thy infant hands the wild harp itrung, Shall ilourifh in thy deathlefs long, With lafting fame ; And A\r mall henceforth roll along A claffic ftream. But thou, O bard ! in filer.ce laid Ah ! what ihall loothe thy penfive fhadc, For worth and genius ill repaid, With bounty fcant; And hours of forrow unallay'd, And toil, and want ? Sec, o'er thy fong, as loud it fwells, The lordly thane delighted dwells; Or to his fair his rapture tells, By thee infpir*d; His bofom, as the flrain impels, Or thaw'd or fir'd. Around him, fee, to guard his ftate, A train of pamper'd minions wait; And fee, to form his daily treat, Each climate join; While Iceland's froft and Afia's heat Their gifts combine. Yet whilft he revels, unconfin'd, Through all the trealures of thy mind, No gea'rous boon, to thee confign'd, Relieves thy care; To Folly, or to Vice, affign'd What Pomp can fparei For rights withheld, or freedom ibid, Corruption afks the promis'd gold ; Or, in licentious (plendour bold, Some tilled dame Squanders, in riot uncontiol'd, What worth mould claim. Frcin..fiill to hill, from plain to plain, Wide 1 fpieads the chieftain's proud domain, Which, half a defert, afks in vain For culture due ; Whilfl cold inaftion chills thy vein, And rufts thy plough, Meanwhile thy youthful vigour flies, The ftorms of life unpitying rife, And wounded Superftition tries To thwart thy way ; And loath'd Dependence ambufh'd lies To feize her prey. Yet high above thy reptile foes Thy tow'ring foul unconquer'd rofe Love and the Mufe their charms diiclofo The hags retire ; And thy expanded bofom glows With heav'nly fire. Go, builder of a deathlefs name ! Thy country's glory, and her fhame ! Go, and th' immortal guerdon claim, To Genius due ; Whiift rolling centuries thy fame Shall flill renew. MARY LE MORE. AS I flray'd o'er a common on Cork's rugged bor- der, While the dew-drops of morn the fwect primrofe array 'd, I faw a poor female, whofe mental diforder Her quick-glancing eye and wild afpeft betray'd : On the fward fhe reclin'd, by the green fern furrounded , At her fide fpeckled dailies and crow-flow'rs abound- ed ; To its inmoft recefs her poor he?.rt had been wounded, Her fighs were unceaiing, 'twas Mary lo More. Her charms by the keen blafts of forrow were faded ; Yet the foft tinge of beauty flill phy'd on her cheek ; Her treffes a wreath of pale primrofes braided, And firings of frefh daifies hung loofe on her neck : While with pity I gaz'd, (he exclaim'd, " Oh! my mother ! Sec the blood on that lafh, 'tis the blood of my brother ; They've torn his poor flefh, and they now ftrip ano- ther ; 'Tis Connor, the friend of poor Mary le More. " Tho' his locks are as white as the foam of the ocean, Thofe foldiers fhall find that my father is brave ; My father!" fhe cry'd, with the wildeft emotion, " Ah ! no ; my poor father now fleeps in his grave : They have toll'd his death-bell, they have laid the turf o'er him ; His white locks were bloody, no aid can reflore him ; He is gone ! he is gone ! and the good will deplore him. When the blue wave of Erin hides Mary le More." A lark, from the gold-bloffom'd furze that grew near her, Now rofe, and with energy caroll'd his lay; " Hufh ! hum !" me continued, " the trumpet founds clearer ; The horfemen approach ; Erin's daughters, away!" All! Britons, 'twas foul, while the cabin was burning, And o'er her pale father a wretch had been mourning ! Go hide with the fea-mews, ye maids, and take warn- ing, Thofe ruiHans have ruin'd poor Mary le More. " Away, bring the ointment ! O God, fee thofe gaThes i Alas ! my poor brother ! come, dry the big tear ; Anon we'll have vengeance for thofe dreadful lafhes ; Already the icreech-owls and ravens appear: By day. rhe green grave, that lies under the willow, With wild floW'rs I'll Itiew, and by night make my pillow, Till the ooze and dark fea-weed, beneath the curl'ii billow, Shall furniih a death-bed for Mary le More." Thus rav'd the poor Msniac, in tones more heart-rend- ing Than Sanity's voice ever pour'd on my car; When, lo ! on the waite, and their march low'ids her bending, A troop of liercc cavalry cliMic'd-to appear; [ *o6 J " Oh ! the fiends !" fhe exclaim'd, and with wild hor- ror ftarted; Then through the tall fern, loudly fcreaming, fhe dart- ed ; With an overcharg'd bofom I (lowly departed, And figh'd for the wrong of poor Maiy le More. THE TRAVELLER. GOLDSMITH. REMOTE, unfriended, melancholy, flow. Or by the lazy Scheldt, or wand'ring Po, Or onward, where the rude Carinthian boor Againft the houfelels llranger fhuts the door; Or where Campania's plaia forfaken lies, A weary wafle, expanded to the fkies ; Where'er I roam, whatever realms to ice, My heart, untravell'd, fondly turns to thee ; Still to my brother turns, with ceafelefs pain, And drags, at each remove, a lengthening chain. Eternal bleflings crown my earlieft friend, And round his dwelling guardian lair.ts attend ! .Bled be that fpot, where cheerful gueils retire, To paufc from toil, and trim their ev'ning fire ! Bielt that abode, where Want and Pain repair, And ev'ry ftranger finds a ready chair! B'dt be thofe fealls, where mirth and peace abound^ Where all the ruddy family around Laugh at the jeils or pranks that never fail, Or figh with pity at fume mournful ta'e, Or prefs the balhful flranger to his food, And learn the luxury of doing good. But me. not deftin'd fuch delights to fnare. Mv prime of life in wand'ring fpent. and care; Impell'd, with Iteps unceafmg, to purfue Some fli-eting good, that mocks me witii the view ; That, like the circle bounding i-aith and ikies, Allmes from far, yet, as I follow, flies ; IV! y fortune leads to travel !e realms alone, A. id find no fpot, of all the world, mv own. F/'fii now. where Alpine ibliiudes a'c^nd, I lit ii'j down a peulive hour to fpeud ; And, plac'd on high, above the ftorm's career, Look downward, where a hundred realms appear. Lakes, forefts, cities, plains extended wide, The pomp of kings, the fhepherd's humbler pride. When thus creation's charms around combine, Amid the (tore mould thanklefs Pride repine ? Say, mould the philofophic mind difdain That good which makes each humbler botom vain ? Let fchool-ttught Pride diffemble all it can, Thclc little things ate great to little man ; And wifer he, whofe iympathctic mind Exults in all the good of all mankind. Ye glitt'ring towns ! with wealth and fplendour crown'd ; Ye fields ! where fummer fpreads profufion round ; Ye Likes ! whole veffcls catch the bufy gale ; Ye bending fwains ! that drefs the flow'ry vale;. Foi me your tributary (lores combine ; Creation's tenant, all the world is mine. As fome lone mifer, vifiting his flore, Ber.cis at his treafure, counts, recounts it o'er; Hoards after hoards his rifing raptures fill, Yet iliil he fighs tor hoards are wanting iliil : Thus to my bread alternate paffions rife, Pk-as'd with each good that Heav'n to man fupplies : Yet oft a figh prevails, and forrows fall, To fee the fum of human blifs fo fmall ; And oft I wifh, amid the fcene, to fiad Some fpot to real happinefs confign'd ; Wheie my worn foul, each wand'nug hope at reft, May gather blifs, to fee my fellows bled. Yet, where to find that happieft fpot below, Who can direct, when all pretend to know ? The fhudd'ring tenant of the frigid zone .Boldly proclaims that happielt fpot his own; Extols the treafures ol his ilormy !eas. And his long nights of revelry and eafe : The naked fava^e panting at the Line, Boalls of his golden fands and palmy wine; Bafks iu the glare, or ftems the tepid wave, And thanks his -;ods for all the good they gave. Nor Id's the patriot's boafl ; where'er we roanij, II ii fuit. bcil country ever is at home. [ 208 ] And yet, perhaps, if countries we comp^e, And eftimate the bleffings which they fhare, Though patriots flatter, 1H11 (hall Wifdom find An equal portion dealt to all mankind ; As different good, by Art or Nature given To different nations, makes their bleflings even. Nature, a mother kind alike to all, Still grants her blifs at Labour's enrneftcall ; With food as well the peafant is fupplied On Idra's cliff as Arno's flielvy fide; And though the rocky crefted fummits frown, Thefe rocks, by cuflom, turn to beds of down. From Art more various are the bleflings font ; Wealth, commerce, honour, liberty, content; Yet thefe each other's pow'r fo (trong coutcft, '" That either feems deftructive of the reft. Hence ev'ry ftate, to one lov'd bleffing prone, Conforms and models life to that alone. Each to the fav'rite happinefs attends, And fpurns the plan that aims at other ends ; Till, carried to excefs in each domain, This fav'rite good begets peculiar pain. But let us view thefe truths with clofer eyes, And trace them through the profpeft as it lies : Here, for a while, my proper cares refign'd, Here let me fit in forrow for mankind ; Like yon neglefted fhrub at random caft, That fhades the fteep, and fighs at ev'ry blaft. Far to the right, where Appenine afcends, Bright as the fummer, Italy extends : Her uplands, floping, deck, the mountain's fide, Woods over woods, in gay theatric pride ; Whilft oft fome temple's mould'ring top, between^ With venerable grandeur marks the fcene. Could Nature's bounty fatisfy the bread, The fons of Italy were furely blefl. Whatever fruits in diff 'rent climes are found, That proudly rife, or humbly court the ground ; Whatever blooms in torrid trafts appear, W r hofe bright fucceffion decks the varied year; Whatever fweets falute the northern fky With vernal lives, that bloilom but to die ; [ "9 ] Thefe, here difporting, ov.n the kindred foil. Nor afk luxuriance from the planter's toil ; While fea-born gales their gelid wings expand, To winnow fragrance round the hniling land. But fmall the blifs that lenfe alone beftows ; And fenlual bliis is all this nation knows. In florid beauty groves and fields appear, Man teems the only growth that dwindles here. Contraited faults through all his manners reign, Though poor, luxurious; though i'ubmiilive, vain ; Though grave, yef trifling; zealous, yet untrue; And, e'en in penance, planning fins anew. All evils here contaminate the mind, That Opulence departed leaves behind ; for wealth was theirs ; nor far remov'd the, date, When Commerce proudly flourifh'd thro' the ilate At her command the palace learnt to rife, Again the long-fall'n column fought the ikies ; The canvas glow'd, beyond e'en nature, warm ; The pregnant quarry teem'd with human form. But, more unileady than the fouthem gale, Soon Commerce turn'd on other fhores her fail ; While naught remain'd of all that riches gave, But towns unmann'd, and lords without a flave. Yet flill the lofs of wealth is here fupplied By arts, the fplendid wrecks of former pride; from thele the feeble heart and long-fall'n mind An cnfy compenfation ieem to find. Here may be ieen, in bloodlefs pomp array'd, The paiteboard triumph and the cavalcade; Proceflions fonn'd for piety and love; A miltrefs or a faint in ev'ry grove. By fports like thefe are all their cares beguil'd ; The fports of children fatisfy the child ; Each nobler aim, reprefs'd by long control, Now finks at lad, or feebly mans the foul ; "While low delights, fucceeding fad behind, In happier meannefs occupy the mind : As in tiiofe domes where Cd of mirth nnd focial caTe! Pleas'd with thyfelf, whom ail the world can p'.eafe 1. How often have I led thy ipoitivc choir. With tuncleis pipe, beiide tlie rnunrr ri'i;?; Loire; Where fbading elms alon^ the margin grew, Arid, frefhcn'd from the wave, the zephyr Hew ; And haply, though my harfh touch, faH'ring Hill, But mock'd all tune, aud m?rr'd the dancer's fkill ; Yet would the village praiie my wondrous pow'i\ And dance, forgetful of the noon-tide hour. Alike nil as;es ! Dames of ancient days Have led their children through the miithful maze-;. I- 212 ] And the gay grandfire, fkill'd in gellic lore,- Has frifk'd beneath the burden of tlneefcore. So bleil a life thefe thoughtlefs realms difplay ; Thus, idly bufy, rolls their world away : Theirs are thofe aits that mind to mind endear, For honour forms the ibcial temper here. Honour, that praHe which real merit gains, Or e'en imaginary worth obtains. Here paffrs current ; paid from hand to hand, It mitts in fplendid traffic round the Jand : From courts to camps, to cottages it rtrays, And all are taught an avarice of praife : They pleafe, are pleas'd ; they give to get efieem, Till, iteming bleit, they grow to what they ieem. But while this fofter art their bli r s fupplies, It gives their follies alfo loom to rife ; For praife, too dearly lov'd or warmly fought, Enfeebles all internal ftrength of thought ; And the weak foul, within itfelf unbleit, Leans for all plealure on another's breait. Hence, Orientation here, with tawdry art, Pants for the vulgar praiie which fools impart ; Here Vanity affuir.es her pert grimace, And trims her rone of fi ie/e with copper lace; Here beggar Pride defrauds her daily cheer, To boaft one fpleivdici banquet once a year; The mind {till turns wheie (hi fling Fafhion draws, Xor weighs the folid worth of ielf-applaufe. To men of other minds my fancy flies. Embofom'd in the deep, where Holland lies ; Methinks her patient fons before me itand, Where the broad Ocean leans againll the land, And, fedulous to flop the coming tide, Lift the tall rampire's artificial pride. Onward, methinks, and diligently flow, The firm connected bulwark (eeni.s to go ; Spreads its long arms amid the wr.t'ry roar, Scoops out an empire, and uhivps (he fhore: While the pent Oce^.n. riling o'er the pile. S.:es ri.a amphibious world beneath him Why thus, with barb'rous care illume his mind, Adding new k-nie to ail the ills behind ? Thou haggard Poverty! whofe cheerlefs eye Transforms young Rapture to the pond'rtfus figh ; In whofe drear cave no Mufe e'er ftruck the lyre, Xor Bard e'er innaden'd with poetic fire; Why a!l thy fpells for CHATTEKTON combine? His thought creative, why muil thna corifiae ? Subdued by thee, his pen no more obeys, No longer gives the fong ol ancient divs ; Nor paints in glowing tints from diftaut fkh's, Xoi bids wild fcen'ry rufh upon OLIJ: eyes - Check'd in her flight, his rapid Genius cowers, D:ops her lad plumes, and yields to tbce her powers Behold him, Mufes! fee your fav 'rite fon The pity of want, ere manhood is begun ! The bofom ye have fill'd, with anguifh torn The mind you cherifh'd, drooping and forlorn! And now Despair her fable form extends, Creeps to his couch, and o'er his pillow bends. Ah. fee! a deadly bowl the fiend conceal'd, Which to his eve with caution is reveal "d - Seize it, Apollo ! feize the liquid fiiare ! Dafh it to earth, or difTipate in a:r! Stay, haplcfs youth ! retrain abhor the draught, With pangs, with racks, with deep repentance fraught! O hold ! the cup with woe ETERNAL flows, More more than Death the pois'nous juice beftows ! In vain ; he drinks and now the learching fires Rufh through his veins, and writhing he expires ! No forrowing friend, no fitter, parent, nigh, To foothe his pangs, or catch his parting figh : Alone, unknown, the Mufe's dailing dies, And with the vulgar dead unnoted lies ! Bright (tar of Genius ! torn from life and fame, My tears, my verfe, fhall confecrate thy name ! PENSIVE REFLECTIONS. J\H ! who has pow'r to fay, To-morrow's fun fhall warmer glow, And o'er this gloomy vale of woe Diftufe a brighter ray P Ah! who is ever fure, Though all that can the foul delight This hour enchants the wond'ring fight, Thefe raptures fhall endure ? Is there, in life's dull toil, One certain moment of repofc- ; One lay to diffipate our woes And bid re'lcttion fmile ? We feek Hope's gentle aid. We think the lovely phantom pours [ "9 ] Her balmy incenfc on thofe flow'rs Which bloilbrn but to fade! We court love's thrilling dart; And. when we think our joys fuprcuie, We find its raptures but a dream Its boon a wounded heart! We pant for glittering fame; And, when pale envy blots the page That might have charm'd a future age, We find 'tis but a name. We toil for paltry ore ; And when we gam the golden prize, And Death appeal's w ith aching eyes We view the ulclefs flore. How frail is beauty's bloom ! The dimpled cheek, the fparkling eye, Scarce feen before their wonders fly To decorate a tomb. There, fmce this fleeting breath Is but the zephyr of a day, Let confcience make each minute gay, And brave the fhafts of Death ! And let the gen'rous mind With pity view the erring throng. Applaud the right, forgive the wrong, And feel for all mankind. For who, alas ! fhall fay, " To-morrow's fun fhall wanner glow, And o'er this gloomy vale of woe Diffule a brighter ray?" JULIA; or, THE VICTIM OF LOVE. FROM PINDAR'S " SMILES AND TEARS." SHE is dead, who gave life to the groves, And covers our valley with gloom! She who led all the pleafures and loves, Now joins the pale band of the tomb. She whofe beauty commanded the heart, So prais'd, fo ador'd, fo defu'd; [ 230 ] Sunk, die innocent viftim of art, And the paffion her beauty infpir'd. Yet filent was fhe on the fvvain Whofe cruelty doom'd her to mourn; In 'ecret 1-er foul would complain, In Secret her anguifh would burn. Though faint w?s the bhifh on her cheek, And deep in her boibm the thorn ; A (mile 'miuft her farrows would break Like a ray through the clouds of the morn. She would fit near yon wiliow and figh, And pant in the fhade ot the trees; " Sweet ZEPHYR! bring health," fhe would cry; But HEALTH never came with the breeze. And oft fhe would drink of the brook. But HEALTH never cnrr : e with the rili ; Then around on the heights (he would look, But HEALT;I never came to the hill. On her dog fhe look'd down with a tear, And %h'd. as fhe patted his head, " Poor FIDELI.E ! thou wilt futfer. I fear, When thy miftrefs, who loves thee, is dead. " Thou haft ever been cor.ftant and kind; Afv fondncl's ne'er met with ajligkt: In tiice a firm friendfhip I find ; How unhappy when out of my fight! " \Vhen with fpeed I could travel the plain, With thy mirirefs to fport was thy pride; And now I am weak and in pain, Thou art heartlefs and dull by my fide. " When I'm gone, thou, poor fellow ! wilt pine, And feek me, uneafy, around ; Befeeching the fwains. with a whine, To tell where thy friend may be found. " Shouldft thou find my cold dwelling at laft, Xcgr my fod thou wilt mope the long day : Xor the night, nor the rain, nor the blaft, Nay, nor hunger, will force thee away." I'l'us fhe fpoke to her fav'rite, v.-hofe eye vVas lix'd upon thole of the MAID : Then he l ; ck'd her fond hand at her figh, As if conscious of ail fhe had faid ! Sweet nymph ! what a fudden decay ! N 7 ow her limbs flu- could fcarcely fuflain; Now her head would fink feebly away, Like the liiy prels'd down by the rain. At length on her pillow fhe fell ; In (ilence we watch'd her laft breath : When flie bade us for ever farewell, How divine, though the whifper of death! No druggie in dying; fhe knew, Life pais'd with iuch Iweetnefs away! So calm from the world fhe withdrew, Her laft iis;h feem'd the zephyr of May. Beneath a plain ftone fhe is laid, For needle's of prj'Je is the tale; Siii>:e the \irtues that fhone in the MAID, May be feen in the tears of the VALE. THE HERMIT. AT the clofe of the day, when the hamlet is (till, And mortals the fweets of forgetfulnefs prove, When naught hut the torrent is heard on the hill, And naught but the nightingale's long in the grove : 'Twas thus, by the cave of the mountain afar, While his harp rung fymphonious, a Hermit began ; No more with himfclf or with nature at war, He thought as a Sage, though he felt as a Man. " Ah! why, all abandon'd to darknefs and woe, " Why, lone Philomela, that languifh'mg fall? 4t Foi Spring fhall return, and a lover bellow, " And Sorrow no longer thy bofom inthral. " But, if pity infpire thee, renew the fad lay; <: Mourn, fweeteit complainer! man calls thee to mourn ; 41 O foothe him, whofe pleafurcs like thine pafs away : " Full quickly they pafs but they never return. " Now gliding remote, on the verge of the iky, " The Moon, hajf-cxtinguifh'd, her crcfceat dif- plays : " But lately I mark'd, -when maiefiic on high ' She (hone, and the planets were loll in her blaze. " Roll on, thoti fair orb, and with gladnefs purfue ; The path that conducts thee to Iplendour again. " But man's faded gloty wht change fhall renew? " Ah, fool ! to exult in a glory Co vain! " 'Tis night, and_the landlcape is lovely no more; " I mourn, but, ye woodlands, I mourn not for you ; *' For morn is approzcning, your chnrms to reftoie, " Peifum'd with fre-fh fragrance, and glitt'ring with dew. " Ivor yet for the ravage of winter I mourn ; ' Kind nature the embryo bloifom will fave : " But when fhall Spring viiit the mouldering urn ! " O when fnall it dawn on the night of die grave !" ' 'Twas thus, by the glare of falfe Science betray'd, ' That leads, to bewilder; and dazzles, to blind; ' My thoughts wont to loam, from fhade onward to fhade, ' Deftruftion before me, and Sorrow behind. ' O pity, great Father of light.' t!>en I cry'd. ' Thy creature, who fain would not wander from Thee. ' Lo, humbled in duft, I relinquifh my pride : ' From doubt and from dark.nefs thou onlv canft free. 1 ' And darknefs and doubt are now flying away. ' Xo longer I roam in conje&ure forlorn. ' So breaks on the traveller, faint, and aftray. ' The bright and the balmy effulgence of morn. 1 See trvith, love, and mercy in triumph descending, ' And nature all glowing in Eden's firit blooni ! ' On the cold cheek of Death (miles and rofes are blend- ing, ' And beauty immortal awakes from the tomb.' SMART, PRINTER, HfDDRSFIEI.a< THE LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CALiF( UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. NO PHONE R \!*V i ORION MAR12'90 S! NEWALS 3 1158 01072 7401 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY ii ill ll II I I || III III AA 000056214 o