lia i Ex Lihris ^/ ".^Z. . ^.'./^^/ rO. d THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORMA LOS ANGELES MOUNT PLEASANT: DESCRIPTIVE POEM. TO WHICH IS ADDED, A N O D WARRINGTON, PRINTED BV W. EYRES, FOR J. JOHNSON, NO. 72, ST. PAUL's CHURCH-YARD, LONDON; AND S. CRANE, LIVERPOOL, MDCCLXXVII. MOUNT pleasant: DESCRIPTIVE POEM. ILLE TERRAR.UM MIHI PRATER OMNES ANCULUS RIDET — ^— ^ HOR. THE follmsoing Poem was written fome years ago, at a very early period of life^ without the leajl intentio7i of publication. It is not however by way of a7i apology^ that this circumfance is me?itioned \ the author being fully co72vinced, that an excufe for obtruding a nemo publication on the worlds is always fuperfluous ; a good one hei?ig in no need of //, and an indifferent one receiving no addition to its value^ fro7n any circumjlance that can be alledgcd in its favour. LIVERPOOL, l6th January 1 777. B MOUNT PLEASANT.* FREED from the cares that daily throng my bread, Again, beneath my native fhades I reft. Thefe fhades, where lightly fled my youthful day. Ere fancy bow'd to reafon's boafted fway. — Untaught the toils of bufier life to bear, The fool's impertinence, the proud man's fneer ; Sick of the world, to thefe retreats I fly. Devoid of art my early reed to try : * An agreeable Eminence near Liverpool, which commands the profpeft defcribed in the following Poem. B^ To 8 MOUNT PLEASANT. To paint the profpc^ls which around me rife. What time the cloudlefs fun defcends the fkies, Each latent beauty of the landfcape trace, Fond of the charms that deck my native place. The fliades of Grongar bloom fecure of fame ; Edge-hill to Jago owes its lafting name ; When Windsor-forest's loveliefl: fcencs decay, Still fhall they live in Pope's unrivall'd lay. Led on by Hope an equal theme I choofe : — O might the fubjed; boaft an equal Mufe ! Then fliould her name the force of time dcfy,^ When funk in ruin Liverpool fhall lie. How numerous now her thronginof buildings rife ? what varied objedls ftrike the wandering eyes ! Where rife yon mafts her crowded navies ride. And the broad rampire checks the beating tide ; Along MOUNT PLEASANT. Along the beach her fpacious ftreets extend, Her areas open, and her fpires afcend ; In loud confufion mingled founds arife, The docks re-echoing with the feamen's cries, The mafTy hammer "founding from afar, The bell flow-tolling, and the rattling car ; And thundering oft the cannon's horrid roar, In lefTening echos dies along the fhore. There with the genuine glow of Commerce fir'd. Her anxious votaries plod the ftreets untir'd ; Each calm, fcquefter'd fcene of life, defpife, And all thofe fweets the vacant hour fupplies. When wearied ftudy flacks her rigid rein. And fcarce one loitering thought difturbs the brain r — Loft to thofe arts the happier (qw admire. The Painter's pencil, and the Poet's lyre ; The lo MOUNT PLEASANT. The foft emotions gentler bofoms move, The voice of FriendlLip, and the fmiles of Love ; To all that fooths the painful hour of ftrife ; To all that graces, all that fvveetens life. Ah ! why, ye Sons of Wealth, with ceafelefs toil, Add gold to gold, and fwell the fliining pile ? Your general courfe to happinefs ye bend. Why then to gain the means negle£t the end ? To purchafe peace requires a fcanty ftore, — — O fpurn the groveling wifli that pants for more ! — And thirft not with the fame unconquer'd rage. Till nature whitens in the froft of age ; But rather, on the prefent hour rely, And catch the happier moments ere they fly ; And whilfl the fpring of life each blifs infpires, Improve its gifts, and feed the focial fires : Let MOUNT PLEASANT. ii Let Friendfhip foften, Love her charms difclofe, Peace guard your hours, and fweeten your repofe. Yet not regardlefs how your joys endure, Let watchful Prudence make thofe joys fecure. Far as the eye can trace the profpe*coaft, Heav'n thunders — bellows ocean — fhakes the fhore, From ifle to ifle re founds the loud rough roar. Wild Defolation rufhes o'er the land, And giant Horror flrides from flrand to ilrand. Thus rufhing onward on her clatt'ring car. She founds aloud the rage-inciting fong. And leads the Fiends along. Rapine, with harpy fangs, wide-wafting War, That lets her bloodhounds loofe to range before. On human flefh to feed, and lap the gore, Defpotic Sway, relentlefs as the ftorms. And ghaftly Death, in all his thoufand forms. At her approach the beams of Science fade. Freedom, and Honour fall, and Virtue .hides her head. See her red banners blazing to the Iky ! Embattled legions round them bleed and die. [ 5^ ] See, fee her flaming Iword tlifplay'd ! O'er the green land fhe waves the blade, And o'er the filver flood ; With horrid devaftation wide Blafts all the champain's blooming pride, And turns the flream to blood. How wafte and defolate that fair domain, "V Where golden Plenty fmil'd upon the plain, V And Peace and Freedom held their focial reio-n ! } How mute the chearing mufic of the groves. The Shepherd's whiftle wild, and ruftic loves, To his coy Damfel caroU'd without art, Yet warm, and guiltlefs from a guilelefs heart ! Now filent treads the Swain, with lifl'ning ears, In ev'ry brake a lurking foe he fears ; Starts the pale trembling Maid At burnifh'd lances glitt'ring in the fhade ! Hark! the loud war-whoop howls from yonder wood. Shakes ev'ry nerve, and chills the freezing blood ! From diftant villages the flames afpire. Glare on the ftreams, and fet the Ikies on fire^ Swift as the panting deer From the keen hound, and ruthlefs hunter's fpear, The wretched relics of the flaughter fly, Ruihing thro' driving fnow-ftorms, wing'd with fear. To. woods and deferts drear, Beneath the fury of the wintry flcy. There houfelefs, fliiv'ring to the frozen air, Pine the flow prey of hunger, and delpair. [ 55 ] 'Tis folitude — 'tis terror all around! Grim-vifag'd Murder ftalks along the ground, And dying groans are heard, and favage yells refound Revenge, in woody glooms conceal'd from day, Couch'd, like a tiger, waits the unwary prev. Then fudden fpringing with his brandi(h'd dart Tears from the mangled breaft the quiv'ring heart. Nor blamelefs Youth's fair-blooming years. Nor palfied age can pity find. Nor female grace, nor Beauty's pleading tears To ousfht of mercv melt the favage mind. Stern flands the dire AfTaffin; — " Spare, O fpare " That infant innocence!"— in vain the pray'r ! In vain the Mother's pangs, and piercing cries ! Fixt on the bloody point it writhes, and dies ! Heav'n! is thy vensieance then a foundinsr name? Sleep all thy thunders? quench'd is all thy flame? Shall bold Oppreffion ftill defy The wrath, and julHce of the fky? No! there's an awful hour, When injur'd Innocence fhall mourn no more. This doom Eternal Juftice has decreed, " Proportion'd wrath to ev'ry guilty deed." Tremble, ye Defpots ! thron'd in idol flate. Like Pagan Demons, mifchievoufly great, Drunk with amlntion, by no ties confin'd, Who turn the Furies loofe to fcourge mankind, ,} [ 5C ] With flaughter'd myriads load the crimfon'd ground. And fling the brands of delolation round; Who, hke the Lybian fun's deftrudive rays. Rage o'er a wafted realm, and burn, wheree'er vc blaze! Amid the pleafures of the genial hour. The glare of grandeur, and the pride of pow'r. Know, that th' Avenging Angel waits on high Th' Almighty's final frown ; The bolt already kindles in the Iky To blafl: your blooming wreaths, and dafh your glories down. What tho' triumj)hal monuments ye raife To make immortal your detefted praife. What tho' to heav'n's empyrial vault afpire Your gilded domes with rival fplendors crown'd. Soon, foon Defl:ru6lion, with her tongue of fire Shall lick them from the ground. Father of all! whofe univerfal care The greatefl, meanefl natures (hare, Whofe goodnefs on an equal plan Regards the Seraph, and the Man, Whofe awful fiat from primeval night Call'd order, beauty, life, and light. And matter, motion, form, and mind In one amazing whole combin'd, O ! from thy flar-emblazon'd throne Upon a wafled world look down, A world, thy hand with rich abundance bleft. And rob'd in Beauty's radiant veil I [ 57 ] Which when thine eye delighted view'd. And faw thy own ideas there, Subhmely great, or fweetly fair, Thy fov'reign word pronounc'd it good! Arife at length in thy refifllefs might ! Arife in Liberty's and Virtue's right! Silence wild Difcord's loud frenetic found, ; That fhakes the world around ! Sweep from the earth thofe prowling dogs of war> And ftrike the Tyrant from his trophied car ! In her own Hell's eternal fetters bind Blood-ftain'd Ambition, foe to human-kind ! Bid from her azure feat defcend Sweet Charity, the gen'ral Friend, With gentle influence to controul The fury-pafTions of the foul: Her warm benevolence impart, The gen'rous aim, the feeling heart. The tender fympathetic figh. And the foft dews of Pity's eye. Break Superftition's magic fpell. And drive the gloomy Demon down In her own native fhades to frown With Horror, Cruelty, and Hell ; May Piety her rights regain. And o'er according nations reign ! I 58 ] Attendant on her fov'reign ftate May all the daughter Virtues wait ! May earth, and all her hundred feas, Become one Temple of thy praife, The glorious dwelling of thy Grace, And Britain be its Holieft Place ! [ 59 ] ODE TO RELIGION. Fairest Daughter of the iky ! On whofe majeftic brow Divine unutterable glories glow. While round thy rofy lip, and placid eye, Love and the fmiling Graces ever play, Temp'ring the blaze of thy eternal day — Relio-ion, hail ! Thou fource of hallow'd fires, , Joys ever pure, and fandlified delires! Beneath the brown-rob'dwood. Where Contemplation fits in mufing mood, Sooth'd by the hollow gales, and falling flood, What time the fun to other realms is roU'd, And Eve's bright tints of purple and of gold Faint flowly from the weftern Ikies away, While Cynthia's milder face Shoots thro' th' unfolding clouds a filver ray,. And o'er the landfcape fheds a fofter grace, ■ Far from the world's delufive fcene I fly To woo thee from thy native fphere. To catch the beamings of thy heav'n-bright eye, Thou pleafing awful Fair ! There oft methinks I hear the ftreams along The melody of thy mellifluous fong, Whofe tuneful whifperings fufpend the foul, And ev'ry power in pleas'd attention lull, I 2 •{ 60 1 Like thofe high airs of a fuperior fpherc Which thrill'd in Adam's fond delighted ear, "W^hile favour'd yet with Innocence to rove In Eden's bhfsful grove ; Lift'ning, while the guardian Quire To lacred raptures touch'd the heav'nly lyre, Where'er he trod entranc'd, above, around, He heard the folemn, fweet, ecftatic found; Now the bold notes in loftier meafures play'd. In foften'd tones now warbled thro' the (hade, And fill'd with melody the midnight vale; Now languifliing away In gradual, flow decay. Died on th' expiring gale. now be prefent, Iky-rob'd Maid, In thy divinefl fmiles array'd! Now let my bofom feel thy power, And confecrate this folemn hour, When freed from bufy fcenes, and noife, 1 feek thy foul-reviving joys ! To outward fliews averfe, of praifes fliy. Thou veil' ft thy beauties from the public eye ; Thy charms the Wife in calni retirement own, Still lov'd, and valued more, the more they're known. 'Tis thine fecure the fickle heart to guide, i\nd keep the paffions ftill on Reafon's fide. To clear from error's mift the mental fight, Refine our joys and fandify delight, Eafe the fharp pangs of pain, our griefs aflliage, Embellifh youth, and dignify our age. [ arkling o'er th' etherial way, The moon's mild gleams, that ever quiv'ring play On the light rills, that warble, as they wind, •Gales hollow-roaring, hoarle-refounding woods. Rude hanging rocks, dread fliades, and dafhing floods, Exalt, and Iboth, and harmonize the mind. Then every rude emotion finks to refl:. In gentler flaw the tides of paffion roll, A folemn calm fleals o'er the foften'd brcafl. And philofophic tranfport fwells the Soul. O'er Natnre^s ample field her Fancy flrays. Thence her rich flore of form, and colour brings, "With curious art combin'd a thoufand ways. And paints her beauteous images of things. [ 81 ] Now wantons wild in aromatic groves, Now the lone heath, and howling forefl roves, Penfive, and lift'ning to the fighs of woe ; Now fits fublime on Alpine heights enthron'd, 'Mid the red blaze of lightnings flafliing round. And hears redoubled thunders roll below. Now Horror's fliade flie feeks, and central cave. Her ghaftly-vifag'd Ghofts, and floods of fire, Now joys in empyrean light to lave. And catch new rapture from the Seraph's lyre. Then welcome Night ! thou awful pleafing Fair ! While the Moon Teems along the clouds to fail, Which round her throne like fleecy flakes appear. And now half hide her radiance, now reveal. Pride wants the fun her j^lumage to difplay, A Soul fublime from no material ray Draws her rich fplendors, or imbibes her joy; Reafon's clear beam, and Virtue's flame divine Shall with their own eternal glories (hine, When worlds and funs in endlefs darknefs die. And thou. Great Father ! guard my fleeping hours, Bid the wild war of flriving pafiions ceafe, Compofe in pleafing harmony my pow'rs, And o'er my throbbing bofom breathe thy peace. Thrice happy Souls, who thy protedion fhare ! Virtue in thy paternal arms at refl; Securely lies, as ftranger yet to fear The fuckUng flumbers on its mother's breaft. -M [ 82 ] Spirits, that hurl the thunders down the fky, Or drive the chariot of the ftorms on high, And (hake o'er trembling Guilt the fiery rod, Oft bid their vengeful rage the Pious fpare ; E'en flames amid the gen'ral wreck revere, And pafs uutouch'd, thofe Temples of their God. [ 83 ] THE FALL OF ZION, A LYRIC POEM. " It comes — it comes — the mighty clay ! " The mighty day of wrath and woe ! " Slaughter, Havock fpeed their way ! " Yawns the gulph of Hell below ! " 'Tis paft — the juft — the dread decree ! " Zion ! wide it yawns for Thee ! " Soon among; the Giant Dead *, " Whom ten-fold chains of darknefs hold, " By the wild wave whelm'd of old, " Low muft lie thy haughty head. " What fcenes of horror open on my eye ! " 1 fee the fpear of Vengeance pois'd on high, " With the red lightning wing'd — her creft of fire, " Her fword with anguifh edg'd — her arrows tipt with ire." " Doft thou, ftill blazing in imperial pride, " On pomp's refulgent car fublimely ride, " Stop to the widow's plaint th' obdurate ear, " And mock the moaning orphan's tear ; * The Jews feem to have had a notion that the Rcphaim or Giants, men of great fiature and ftrength, who filled the earth with violence before the flood, and were overwhelmed in that ffencral deftruflion, were imprifoned in Sheol in chains of dark- nefs, rcferved to the judgment. To which may allude Job, c. xxvi. 4. Gr. verfion, and Chald. which feems to be more proper than our own, which indeed is not very intelligible. The other verfions alfo agree with the Grctk: Vulg. " ecce gigantes sreniunt." M 2 " Or laugh at eafe in joy's luxuriant bowV, " While the brlfk viol chears the feftal hour ; " Or drain from bowls of gold the fparkling wine, " The boaft of Lebanon's, or Helbon's vine ; " Or on the downy Tyrian bed, " Sabean odours breathing round thy head, *' Give thy warm wifhes loofe to wanton love ? " Know, tho' thy daring thoughts defpife " The Sage's voice, the Prophet's cries, " There's thunder, and a God above." 'Twas thus, by Salem's hallow'd fide. In j)laintive Notes a Prophet fung. Where Kedron's gloomy waters ling'ring glide Thro' the deep dale with fhaggy fhades o'erhung. Oft turn'd M'ith fad prefage his ftreaming eyes. Where the famed Temple's awful domes appear. High o'er the fteep difFufe a golden glare. And fwell their rival grandeur to the Ikies. His Brethren round, oppreft with equal fears. Catch from each other's eyes contagious tears. Long in deep filence figh'd the penfive band, 'Till with new rapture touch'd, the facred Sire, Starting, with a hafty hand, Snatch'd again the founding lyre. Th?n, fill'd with all the God, Thro' ev'ry vein diviner ardour glow'd ; Roll'd his fierce eye-balls, fwell'd his heaving brcafl, By th' ecftatic pow'r oppreft ; L 85 ] His fingers then with carelefs aii- he flings Acrofs the golrlen firings. And bids in varied mode the meafures flow, Now rapid, loud and wild, now folemn, loft and flow. " Hark ! it is the clarion's found ! " Float on the hollow gales the flirill alarms ; " The hilh, the vales, the rocks rebellow round " To arms ! to arms ! to arms ! " Loud, and more loud the fwelling clangors rife, " Shake the wide earth, and thunder to the flcies. " The Nations tremble, as they hear; " Ev'ry face is pale with fear ; " The Mother fl:arts, Avith boding thoughts difl:refl:, *' Yearns o'er her babe, and flirains it to her breafl:. " Where Babel, tow'ring to imperial fway, " Lifts her proud glories to the gaze of day, " And old Euphrates laves her willowy lide, " I fee Heav'n's Angel ftand, " Th' avensiino; Angjel — in his red risrht hand " He waves his burning brand, " With fierce reflexion gleaming on the tide. " He mounts his fcythed wain ; " He calls his dreadful train " To feaft on human food ; " Ambition, Difcord, Famine, and wild War, " Rage, Defolation, Death attend the car, " Rufhing o'er flaughter'd heaps, and bath'd in blood. " See from the North a fudden brisrhtnefs beam ! O " O'er yonder hills the fpreading luftres fliream. [ 8G ] " Like meteors gleaming round the mountain brow, " Then flalliing down the vale below. " Now fteeds and men I fee, a fhining train ! " And brazen chariots light'ning o'er the plain. " On moves the hoft in firm, and dread array, " Their polifli'd bucklers burn againfl the day, " And round their helms the dazzling fplendors pla " Amid their ranks Hell's horrid Forms appear, " Frown in the front, and ravage in the rear. " Behind like clouds the birds of ravine fly, " Prefcient of blood, and blacken all the Iky. " High waving o'er their heads, Jehovah's fword " Of living flame, portending vengeance near, " Th' awaken'd vengeance of its injur'd Lord, " Like a red comet kindles half the fphere. " Zion ! now for wrath prepare ! " Speak the figns of earth and air. " See the fun his golden light " Veil in Ihades of fudden night ! «' Peals tremendous howl on high ; «' All the concave leems on fire; " Flafhing armies in the flcy " Now encounter, now retire ; " Meteors red with flaming hair " Thro' the glowing ether glare ; " Panic terrors llalk below ; " Hark ! a voice denouncing woe, *• Thro' the Temple's vaulted round " Sends a fhrill and folemn found ; " Depart," it cries, " Depart !" " And ftrikes with chill amaze the bravefl: heart." J [ 87 ] There ceas'd awhile the Sire — his pow'rs oppreft, Exhauftecl, afk'd an interval of reft. A folemn paufe enfu'd ; Around in dread fufpenfe his audience ftood ; 'Till roiis'd again with frefh prophetic fire. New ftrains of horror trembled on the lyre. " 'Tis come — the mighty day ! how awful low'rs " Its murky morn! the works of death begin ! " Without, the flame — without, the fword devours, " And famine waftes within. " Ah ! what a groan was there, " As burfting from the bofom of Defpair ! " See o'er her famifh'd babe the Mother hang ! " Maternal fondnefs adding edge to woe, " Keen as her childbed's agonizing throe. " But, oh ! my chill'd blood fhudders at the fight— " Refifllefs hunger gives a fiercer pang. " Mother, forbear ! — Sun, hide thy trembling light ! " Blot out the deed accurft, Eternal Night ! " What new clangors ftrike my ear ! " 'Tis the clafh of arms I hear ; " Loud th' avenging Angel calls ; " See the battle bend its courfe, " Like the mountain-torrent's force, " To Salem's broken walls ! " Th' avengriao- Angel leads the foremoft band, " Fires ev'ry heart, and ftrengthens ev'ry hand ; " His ftreamins; banner cafts a crimfon blaze, " And ftreaks the fable clouds with fanguine rays ; [ 8» ] " O'er Zion's trembling hill he waves it higii, " Hcav'n's thunder in his voice, and lightning in his eve. " Before his fteps a thoufand terrors ftride, " And gory Death grins ghaftly by his fide. *' Now with vidorious pow'rs " They fcale her conquer'd towVs; *' The din of battle rends the air; " Shouts of triumph — woeful cries " Echo to the midnio-ht (kies, *' And fhrilling flirieks of wild defpair. " I fee— I fee this doleful flood *' Rolling red with native blood ; " I fee th' expiring Father purpled o'er " With his flaughter'd Children's gore ! " Behold the wedded Virgrin's charms " Snatch'd from her bleeding Bridegroom's arms, " Her fond name lifping with his laft fad breath, " And clafping in the pangs of Death !" " See the fweet Babe upon its murd'rer fmile, " And flop his horrid rage awhile ; " Then on the groundfil dafh'd it dies, '* Before its frantic Mother's eyes. " In the dread filence of defpair *' The Mother ftands, as turn'd to flonre, " Then looks to Heav'n a piercing pray'r, " To call th' avenging thunder down, " And fainting, falling on the mangled clay, *' KifTcs the pale cold lips, and fighs her foul away. [ 89 ] " Houfe of my God ! I fee th' unpit'ving fire " High o'er thy venerable domes afpire, " Refiftlefs rolls the flaming deluge on, " Totter thy cracking tow'rs, and dafh with clangor down. "■ Thy courts of peace are fill'd with loud alarms, " Dying (hrieks, and clafhing arms, " Thy facred floors with flaughter'd Prophets ftrew'd, " And e'en thy mercy-feat, that awful fhrine " Of Majefty Divine, " With prieftly gore embru'd. " Joy of the earth ! where is thy beauty now ? " Where the proud grace that crown'd thy beamy brow^ " And ftate imperial ? forrowing I behold " Turret on turret roll'd, " And dome on dome in wild confufion hurl'd, *' Like the vaft wreck and relics of a world. " O name for ever dear ! *' With fighs remembred, utter'd with a tear, " Fall'n art thou Salem ! mingled with the duft ! *' Like fome bright ftar thrown blazing from the Ikies, '* One undiftinguifh'd heap thy grandeur lies, " Yet in ruin flill auguft ! " La palaces of Mighty Men " The lurking Chical makes her fecret den ; " In the Temple's hallow'd walks " The ftrutting Oftrich ftalks; " There gorg'd with blood the rav'ning Vulture hies, *'^ There to her mate the fcreaming Night-bird cries ^. [ ^0 ] *' The hiiring Serpent haunts the dread abode, " Whole trembling walls rever'd th' indwelling God. " There the grim Lions thirfi: for human gore ; " And heard at diftance by the (hudd'ring Iwaiu " 'Crofs the drear horrors of the defart plain, " Amid the hollow howling ruins roar." There paus'd the Prophet's fong — The lift'nino; throng, Like ftatues fix'd, in mute amazement flood, And anguifli wrung the heart, and horror chill'd the blood. Proud Salem bows — her confcious turrets quake ; The deep foundations of the Temple Ihake ; Above their banks th' affrighted waters flow ; Blue flames athwart the flalhing ether glow ; Hoarfe peals in loud redoubled roll relound, ^ Roar the re-echoing caverns— rocks the ground— v Nod the high mountain tops, and tremble all round.J [ 91 ] INVOCATION TO MELANCHOLY. O Melancholy ! fad and folemn Maid ! Doft thou thro' the ghmm'ring glade. Beneath the Moon's pale ray, With many a flow ftep ftray, Far from the foothing voice of kind relief. To feed on thoughts of woe. And tell the gliding waters, as they flow, Thy oft repeated grief; And ftill, where'er thy weary wand'rings lead. Dread Horror flialks behind. With deeper, hoarfer thunder howls the wind. And Night's grim features cafl; a death-like fliade ? Or dofl: thou on the margin of the main. In melting notes complain. Beneath fome craggy cliff's impending brow. Which thickets hoar, or hanging woods embrown, Whofe fhades tremendous frown O'er the foaming gulph below, LuU'd by the loud tumultuous waves, that fwell. And beat, and break uj)on the bellowing fliore, While hid within her hollow-founding cell Hoarfe Echo murmurs to the rough wave's roar ? Or in fome defart fly the face of Men, Lifl'ning to the raven's croak. From the mofTv-fringed oak. In fome Cimmerian den ; ; N 2 [ 5-2 ] Converfing there With gloomy-fronted Care, And fullen Silence, and pale-cheek'd Afflighr, Twin daughters of dun Night, And wild Defpaii, Stretch'd naked on the bare and rugged rocks, Rending her tatter'd locks? *o Or in the haunted aifle Of fome time-eaten temple's gothic pile, Whofe fpreading arches a dread rev'rence draw, And gloomy cloifters breathe myfterious awe. Where a dim dying taper's glimm'ring light Throw's a new horror o'er the frown of night. Wetting with tears the ftones, Mak'fl: thou thy doleful moans, Fixt o'er thy Lover's tomb, And thro' the vault, while pealing echos found. Starting all pale, and flaring ghaftly round, Hear'ft thou forae Spirit fay — " come, Mortal! come? Where'er thy wonted haunts, diforder'd Fair ! Come with thy braidlefs hair. And forrow-wrinkled brow. And deep heart-rending fighs, And downward looks, and fixt pathetic eyes. And tears that ever flow ! O'er the rude rocks, and thro' the fhadowy grove Come, penfive Pilgrim ! rove Companion of my woe ! 1 [ 93 ] When at her fummit Night's majcftic Qiieen, While low'ring vapours (hroud her awful face. With twinkling flars, like radiant gems between, With fullen ling'ring pace Rides on her ebon chariot raven-drawn ; While Vifions dread, that fleep affail. And panic Fears, and Spe61res pale, Attend her rolling throne. o O'er the black fkies, and heaving feas, and land, Sleep waves her opiate wand; Now fniks to flumber Nature's wearied head ; 'Tis filence all — filence how deep ! how dread? Save where the tinkling rill Its folitary murmur rolls. And from the tower, that crowns yon hanging hill, The fhrill bell tolls. Save where bleak Eurus' ho\\'ling blafts refound Thro' the lone vales, and roaring woods around. Then fteals a flill and folemn paufe between — Then roar the hollow woods, and howls the blaft again. But now by flow degrees The ftruggling moon unveils her filver beam. Which trembling thro' the rocking trees, Darts a faint and quiv'ring gleam; While fome enamour'd Swain, Heart-wounded by the coy difdain Of his relentlefs Fair, Wand'ring thro' mazy wilds in woeful plight, Chaunts his quaint ditty to the chilling air. And oft invokes her pale and penfive light. [ ^^ ] All the long night he tells his plaintive tale. Along the lifl'ning vale, To ev'ry vagrant rill, To ev'ry bending hill. And bids the hollow gales in pity bear His fwelling fighs to Her. Thee beautiful — thee cold — thee fcornful Maid ! Thee mourns his mufical, his melting lay. Thee at the clofmg Ihade, And thee at dawning day. Yet tho' fevere his fate, fevere his pains. Still chearing hope remains : But Fve no chearing hope to footh my care, My doom is all defpair ; My love, my life, my plcafure, and my pride, With dear Amira died. And are thofe checks now pale and livid, where In native colours blulh'd the Cherub's glow ? Still heighten'd when flie heard with maiden air, And half-averted eyes, my gentle vow. And mufl: thofe eves ferene. Where all the foul was feen; Still with Pity's fofteft languifh, Melting at the fight of anguifh, Clos'd — ever clos'd — their lovelv luftre loil. Droop in the tomb, and moulder in the dufl ! Farewell! — whom not young Hebe's rofeat bloom, Nor beauty's brightcft ray, nor fenfe refiu'd. Nor winning grace, nor dignity of mind. Nor Goodnefs klf, cou'd refcue from the tomb! Farewell !— whom not a Mother's frantic woe— Whom not a Lover's pleading pangs could fave ! Ah, Death ! to human blifs determin'd foe ! Ah, foe to human glory, ruthlefs grave ! Now by the ilream in yonder grove Indulging penfive thought I rove. Where on the mufic of her tongue So oft my charm'd attention hung ; There fancy-rapt I feem to hear Her tuneful voice's foothing found, Trembling in my delighted ear. Then ftart as from a trance profound. And figh to think, its mufic o'er, That tuneful voice mull charm no more I trace the path fhe lov'd to walk, I prefs the bank where late fhe lay ; There to her dear idea talk. And teach it tender things to fay. Now on her pidlur'd form I feed my eye ; Thofe charms, to memory for ever dear, I wet with many a tear, And ever gaze, and ever figh: Such the foft languifh — fuch the magic air, Such — fuch the beamy fmile, that fweetly Hole My foft diflblving foul. So hung with graceful eafe her waving hair ! [ 96 ] But fee I what fuclden Sfloom o'erwhelms the wood! Thick fhades the Moon o'erfpread, And hide her filver head ; Thro' the \\an cloud fhe Teems to blufh in blood. The fwelling tempefl: blackens round the pole. And quench'd is ev'ry ftar's etherial light; So tolt by tumults is my troubled foul, Wild as the tempeft, gloomy as the night I But vain complaint, and unavailing grief: . Come, Refignation! lend thy mild relief ! O bend to Heav'n my will ! Calm ev'ry paflion, ev'ry murmur flill ! And thou, bleft Saint ! new tenant of the Iky I Regard my pain with Pity's tend'reft eye ! Nor blame, now paffion-free my fond regret — Patient I'd be — but how can 1 forget ? For ever fair to Fancy's eyes Still will thy dear Idea rife ; On thee the melting thought will dweir. And mufe — what tongue can never tell. The ftarting tear, the fwelling figh. Thy love — thy lofs — muft ftill deplore, 'Till ev'ry fource of forrow's dry. And this fad heart fliall heave iio more^ [ 01 ] ODE TO WISDOM, Genius of Wifclom ! lead me to thy (hades. And while along thy groves and glimm'ring glades Roving I court the lacred Mufe — be there No bufy-thoughted care ; Nor let Folly intervene To profane the folemn fcene ; But Contemplation, fweet fequeller'd Maid! Come thou with filent tread. Now pacing foft and flow. Now fixt in thought profound, Half-clos'd thy mild eye bending to the ground. While in thy breaft celeftial ardors glow. My fteps attend thefe murm'ring rills along. And Iboth my mind, and harmonize my fong. How bleft the Man, who, foe to Folly, flies The noify world to feek thy ferious joys, And haunts the filvan glooms in mufing mood To learn that noblefl: Science — " (o he good !" There marks in Nature's thoufand forms combin'd The varied force of animating Mind ; Soft in the fummer gale, Wliofe fanning pinions cool the fultry vale ; Sweet in the vernal bloom. Which breathes o'er Maia's brows the frefh perfume ; Fair in each op'ning flow'r 'Broid'ring the lawn, or blufliing on the bow'r; o [ OS ] Fair in the tints, that make the morning gay, Gild the 2:raY Ikies, and redden into day : Majeftic in the fetting fun. While golden clouds flame round his ficrv throne ; Majeftic on yon azure plain. While fparkling ftars emblaze the wintry Iky : Terrific in the howling main, When down th' etherial hills the tempefls fly, Heave the huge billows thund'ring o'er the land, Roar the refounding rocks, and trembles the rough flrand. What tho' in feeming folitudc he roves Along the lonely groves. Angelic Pow'rs attend, where e'er he ftrays, Aflifl: his mufings, and infpire his praife. Oft does the fecret Deity defcend To vifit there his mortal Friend, To heal the bleeding wounds of woe. The throbbing paffions to appeafe, Refine his thoughts from vulgar cares below, And to the Ikies his flaming fancy raife. Then thrills the Soul with facred ecftacy, Confcious of th' Immortal Guefl She feels her force, and native diornitv. Ardent for glory, panting to be bleft. Hence then ye gaudy train Of bufy idle Images, away ! Fancy's wild offspring, fleeting, falfe, and vain, That in the vacant brain of Folly play ! [ 99 ] On whofe light plumes a thoufand colours glow, All by their Mother's magic hand pourtray'd. Like the gay tints, that paint the rainy bow, That fliine awhile, and fade. Bid Truth ariie confeft. In all her pure unboirow'd graces dreft. Darting full radiance o'er my ravilh'd foul! Let each idea there Her lov'd refemblance wear, Enlarg'd, fublime, and rapt beyond the pole. O thou bv prvins: Sas;es fousrht Thro' all the tangled maze of thought, Difpel the clouds, whofe envious night Conceal thy beauties from mv light ; Beauties denied to vulvar view, Referv'd to blefs a favour'd few ! Beneath thy banners I'd inlift my name. Thy laws I'd own, thy hallow'd badge I'd bear, No fool of fafhion, and no Dave to fhame, Unwarp'd by jDrejudice, unaw'd by fear. Be thou too prefent. Virtue, heav'nly Fair ! Exalt my foul, and fandify her frame ; O mark thy own immortal graces there. And feed her native flame ; For tho' its fparks involv'd in matter lie Languid awhile, and ready to expire. Thy breath can fan them to a glorious fire, And mount them blazins; to their kindred Ikv. o 2 [ 100 1 But fordid Vice abforbs the facred ray, Draws ofFthe purer fpirit of the Mind ; Th' etherial encnce waftes at length awav, And leaves the drofs behind ; Or choak'd, obfcur'd, \\hile groffer dregs o'erpow'r, Expands and Ihines no more : Like fome degraded Sun, Of fome fair fvflem late the rulinsr foul. That round the glories of his central throne Saw tributary planets roll, But now from empire fall'n, his adtive light Confum'd or quench'd in everlafting night. And Thou, among the heav'nly quire Glowing with a Seraph's fire. Who feel'ft the fweeteft, noblell: paffions move. When hymning Angels tune the golden lyre To fongs of joy, and founds of facred love ; Or ^^'hen at awful diftance they furvey The living fplendors, as they play Round the dread (hrine of Him, no eye can fee. And, while the unutterable glories blaze. All is rapture and amaze, And thrilling trembling ecflacy ■ — Devotion ! daughter of the fphere ! With heav'n-ere<5ted eye be near. And make my breaft thy favour'd refidence; Propitious there difpenfe The love fublime, the facred energy, Which kindling thro' the Brethren of the Iky, f 101 ] Illume their fmiles, their melody infpire, Exalt their raptures, and inflame their fire. Then ev'iy paffion, ev'ry pow'r, In pleafing union fhall adore, And all the motions of mv Soul In fweet harmonious order roll. [ '02 3 THE FOLLY OF DISCONTENT. ADDRESSED TO A FRIEND. Some vifionarv blifs m view. In gawdy rain-bow colours gay. We urge the chace, but faft as we purfue, The Phantom flies, or fades in air away. To wild defire we give the loofen'd rein, And tire the limbs, and lafli the mind ; Then mourn our thought and labour vain; We grafp the wave, and hunt the wind. E'en of our darling wifh pofTefl:, New cravings rife, and banifli refb; From blifs as diflant as before, 'Tis fomething elfe — 'tis fomething more. Still, tow'ring hopes arife. O'er which our fond ideas climb the Ikies ; As fome tall mountain feems its head to rear, O'er-top the clouds, and fhoot into the fphere; But fpent with toil when we the fummit gain, We find unmeafur'd dillance ftill remain. What boots it, Friend ! to run To other climes beneath another lun ? ^ [ 103 ] Why leave your better wealth— your eafe. Your Friends, and focial hearth behind. To truft your fafety to the feas, The fport of ev'ry tyrant wind ? Trembling to view the boiling gulf below. When, brooding mifchief in the black'nine flcv. The Demon of the tempeft fcowls on hio-h ; Then bids amain the blafts of horror blow ; While Danger, cloth'd in all her dreadful forms. Rides on the pinions of the ftorms ; Foams on the fummit of the mountain wave; Tremendous flaflies in the lightning's rav. In the deep thunder's roll appalls the brave, And calls grim Death aloud to haflen to the prey ? Go ! fpread thy canvas to the Ij^lcy gales ; Breathe aromatic air in Indian vales ; On Perfia's coaft the lucid pearl explore ; Or dig for blazing gems, and golden ore : Go ! wander where you will — yet there You'll find the winged harpy Care ; She lurks within the golden mine, and roves Among the fweet perfumes of Indian groves. The farther flill you ftrav, The farther from content declines the wav : Nor can Arabia's bleeding foreft find A balm to heal the ficknefs of the Mind. Then ceafe abroad to roam, Furl the white fail, and feek your blifs at home. [ 10* ] You'll find ic in your Emma's eyes, Where innocence and beauty dwell ; Upon her heaving breafts it lies, When they with warm atFeftion fwell ; W^hen with a tender fjmpathy they fhare Alike your pleafure, or your care. You'll find it in the native fmiles, The lovely looks, and wanton wiles, Of your rofy Girls and Boys, W^hen fondly clinging round your knee, Their playful innocence you fee. And tafte a Parent's fweet peculiar joys. Enough indulgent Heav'n has lent ; W^hat's wanting; more to orive content? Wifdom to prize, and virtue to enjoy. And Heav'n's beneficence like Heav'n employ ; You need not then o'er lands and feas purfue ; The rover Blifs would come uncall'd to you. Celeftial Wifdom, on her azure fphere, To whom the welfare of Mankind is dear. Still founds with Reafon's voice to all below This folemn ftrain, " be a irtuous, and be bleft." But Man — fool Man ! his own perfidious foe, Foftcrs a hungry vulture in hiS breaft: ; Infatiate wild Defire, that bird of prey. Feeds on the tortur'd thought, and gnaws the foul away. [ 105 ] ELEGV ON THE DEATH OF A YOUNG LADY. Talk not of blifs below— Look round the Ball ! 'Tis falle, and vain— 'tis fading, fleeting all ! Lull'd in Security's illufive fleep, We dream of pleafures, and then wake to weep. Yet new delufions charm the cheated breaft, And Hope perfuades us, we may ftill be bleft: In fair fucceffion to our eager eyes, She bids Elyzian fcenes of beauty rife. By Fancy robed in glaring colours gay. Serene, and beaming with unclouded day ; But, foe to evVy joy of Human-kind, Pale Difappointment ftalks conceal'd behind. O'er the bright fcene flie cafts a fudden gloom. Fade all its glories— withers all Its bloom ; The fricrhten'd Pleafures fly— Succeeds the train Of Care, and pining Grief, and agonizing Pain. Yes ! they are fled — with fair Amanda fled ! Loft in the dreary manilons of the Dead ! O bleft with all that could delight, or move, Whofe foul was fweetnefs, and whofe looks were love I With all. that's noble, all that's tender fraught. The Woman's foftnefs, and the Sage's thought. The Saint's humility, the Hero's fire. Beauty that rais'd, and awe that quench'd defire ! Hate, anger, envy were to her unknown ; She prais'd all worth, unconfcious of her own. [ 106 ] Such was the form of Piety flie wore, As Saints enraptur'd in their heav'n adore ; Sublime to ftrikc, and pleafuig to engage, Stri6l without rigour, zealous without rage ; Source of each gen'rous aim, each thought refin'd. And warm with love to God, and Human-kind: Were all her lifted Votaries like her, Villains would blufh, and Infidels revere. Ah ! thou hadft livM— could Virtue Death dilarm, Cou'd fweetnefs foften, or could beauty charm! In vain thy Parents faw with kindling eyes Fair and more fair thy growing graces rife : Juft as thy charms reveal'd their blufhing bloom, Juft as thy virtues fhed their full perfume, Touch'd by fome blighting wind, or blafting ray. Shrunk the gay flow'r, and droop'd, and died away! And what remains — but unavailing woe, Sighs that ftill heave, and tears that ever flow. And fond remembrance, that augments the fmart. And all the thoufand pangs that rend a Parent's heart! O Refignation ! Faith's foft, foothing Child ! Come with thy words — thy looks — divinely mild ! Woe's wild emotions lull to gentle reft: ; Pour holy balm into the bleeding breaft ; Be ev'ry paflion, ev'ry murmur ftill. And bend the ft'Uggling foul to Heav'n's high will. Ye thoughtlefs Youth ! ye flaunting flutt'ring Fair ! 'One moment from the chace of pleafure fpare. Ye that with Vanity's light baubles play, And trip fecure in Folly's flow'ry way, [ 107 ] Think how precarious is your boafled bloom ! E'en while you laugh, you totter o'er the tomb. Soon from the cheek may fade the rofy dye, The lip love-whifp'ring wan and filent lie ; Cold the warm breaft, that beat with gay defire, And quench'd the fparkling eye's etherial fire. Heav'n-born Religion! thine alone's the pow'r With chearing ray to gild the gloomy hour, Soften the figh, perfume the parting breath, And triumph in difeafe, and fmile in death. No fweeter accents Poet ever fang Than thofe that flow'd from her dear dying tongue ; It feem'd a fudden infpiration giv'n ; O then (he talk'd, fhe look'd, fhe breath'd of heay'n ! And, in full profped of the realms of light, Seem'd half an Angel, e'er fhe wing'd her flight ! Now from her radiant bow'r fhe looks below On thefe fad fcenes of vanity, and woe ; As the tir'd ftorm-vex'd Sailor, fafe on land, .Eyes the rough ocean from the tranquil ftrand. And while the foaming billows beat the (hore, Enjoys the danger that he fear'd before. Bleft Saint ! to memory for ever dear ! What rightful honours fliall adorn thy bier? What lait fad gift fhall Friendfliip's hand beftow ? Not the ftiff pageantry of pompous woe ; The {lately marble, or the mimic bufl:; Vain arts of Pride to dignify, the duft ! No — ever-lov'd, rever'd, lamented Maid ! Be to thy worth a nobler tribute paid, P 2 [ 108 ] Of ev'ry virtuous breaft the gea'rous figh, The tender tear of ev'ry melting eye ! To thy cold grave let weeping Virgins come, "^ And ftrew with tranfitory flow'rs the tomb, > Faint emblems of thy fair, but, ah ! too fading bloom ! } With penfive look, perufe the letter'd ftone, And from thy virtues learn to form their own ; Infpir'd by thy example, aim to be Meek, pious, wife, benevolent like Thee ! i 109 ] ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF MRS. S . [MRS. S 's SPIRIT IS SUPPOSED TO SPEAK.J Why throbs the heart with unavailing woe ? Why do thofe tears of fruitlefs Sorrow flow ? Ah ! check the foft emotion — ceafe the fisih! Would too fond friendship call me from the Iky ? Unfetter'd from the flefli, enlarg'd, relin'd, Here with full freedom roves the raptur'd Mind, Of kindred Spirits joins the friendly quire. Glows with their warmth, and breathes their purejdefire; Here endlefs rills of facred pleafure roll; All-perfeft Beauty charms th' ecftatic foul, And living fj^lendors from th' eternal throne, ^ Pour the full tide of blifs and glory down. Say, would you wifh me, loft to joys like thele, In a frail body, tortured by difeafe. Where Death and Nature held perpetual ftrife, To drag along the tedious load of life? Nor think too foon my little race was run. The end's accomplifh'd, fince the prize is won. Now freed from earthly vanities, and cares, Efcap'd a thoufand ills, a thoufand fnares, Rejoic'd to find Life's weary voyage o'er, Compleat my tranfport, can I wifh for more ? Yes — one fond thought — Upon this blifsful plain. Their duty done, to meet my Friends again ! [ 110 ] To fee them fhine in Ansiel glories diefl:. And hall their (afe arrival to their re{\. Where love again our longing ibuls fhall join, Love pure, exalted, deathlcfs, and divine ! The fhipwreck'd Sailor thus, when fafe on fliore. Fears the rough rocks and raging furge no more ;. Yet mindful of his mates he left behind. Still toll: and ftruggling with the waves and wind. With looks of pity, eyes them from the flrand. And longs to hail them welcome to the land. Tho' in the tomb our earthly paffions lie. The flames of virtuous friendfliip never die. But in the happy realms of love and light With keener ardor burn, and fhine more brio-ht. Soft Pity dwells in ev'ry heav'nly breaft-, And moves the melting heart, nor violates their red. With fweet diflolving tendernefs, e'en here, I fee the Hufband's, Parent's, Sifter's tear ! Thofe fmiling infants, late my darling care. Thrill thro' my foul, and wake the Mother there. O may propitious Heav'n their Steps attend. His wifdom guide them, and his grace defend ! May fphere-born Piety their breafts infpire, Fill with her joys, and warm with all her fire, 'Till pleas'd I fee their ripen'd virtues rife To join th' eternal rapture in the Ikies 1 [ 111 ] O.V THE DEATH OF AN AMIABLE CHILD. Adieu ! thou fhort-liv'cl charm adieu ! Juft fhown, and ravifh'd from our view ! A thoufand hopes — thy Parents' pride And fondeft wifhes with thee died. Ye Graces ! on her turfy bed Your blufhing fhow'r of rofes Ihed, Emblems of beauty's fading bloom ! Ye Zephyrs ! from your rofy wing Shake the frefli fragrance of the fpring, And waft your odours round the tomb ! Ye young-ey'd Angels ! guard her duft, for there Lies all that's foft, and fweet, and innocent, and fair. Thofe pallid checks no more we view Outvie rhe morn's vermilion hue ; No more our eager thoughts prefage The beauties of her ripen'd age ; No more the foft fenfations rife Within the fondlinsf Mother's breaft, When in her looks, her air, her eyes, She faw her youthful form confeft; No more (he hangs upon her fmiles. Her lifping lips, her mimic wiles. Nor marks the blooming graces, as they grow, With fweet conceal'd delight, till tears of tranfport flow. C n'2 ] Adieu! thou fliort-liv'd charm adieu! Juft fhown, and ravifh'd from our view ! In pity, Heav'n thy mortal race Contraded to a narrow fpace ; Snatch'd from the world's delufive ftage. Where grief ftill waits on rip'ning age, Nor care nor forrow's rankling dart Had ever reach'd thy harmlefs heart ! In circling joys and fportive play Thy pleafing moments pafs'd away. Now in thofe amaranthine bow'rs To infant innocence aflign'd. You fmile, and cull unfading flow'rs. Nor know what ills you left behind ; While we remain, condemn'd to groan below, And feel the thoufaud pangs of variegated woe I [ 113 ] RESIGNATION, Ye wild tumultuous paflions ceafe To tofs my troubled breafl ! O fome kind Angel whifper peace. And fmile my foul to refl: ! Will no kind pitying Angel come With healing balm from hio-h ? Hope, where is now thy purple bloom, And where thy laughing eye ? Thy charming magic bids around Another Eden rife ; We wander o'er Elyfian ground, And gaze on golden fkies. Behind fee Difappointment tread With quick, but filent pace ! At his approach the vilions fade. And leave a defart f]:)ace. No more the Pleafures fporfing round Fan with foft wings the air. But o'er us flit with yelling found The Harpy birds of Care. Q [ H4 ] ♦' Return, ye vanifh'd joys, again, " Now dearer than before!" We pray, \\c wifh, we weep in vain, The joys return no more. Now Pleafure's gay reforts I ihun To feck the yew-tree's fhade. And oft beneath the paJe-cy'd moon Hold converfe with the Dead, Where Melancholy fits to figb, And count her forrows o'er— To liften to the fcreech-ovvl's cry— The rough gale's folemn roar. And, lo ! the faireft flow'rs of Ipring She in her bofom bears, Upon her Lover's grave to fling. And dews it with her tears. O'er the cold fod with many a moan She wails her hopelefs doom, And feems to hear a hollow groan Sad-foundino; from the tomb. o " Is that my loft Love's voice ?" flie fighs. And drops again her head : " It is my loft Love's voice," flie cries, " That calls me to the Dead." [ 115 ] Thus oft in penfive mufing mood I folltary roam. On former woes too fondly brood. Nor hope for joys to come. For once I woo'd a lovely Maid, The gentleft of her kind ; O'er her fair frame the Graces play'd, And Virtue form'd her mind. She feem'd to liften to my vow. And bid me not defpair; The buds of Hope began to blow. And Pleafure fmil'd at Care. But ah ! to fell dlfeafe a prey. She funk in beauty's bloom. And Hope's fair bloflbms dropp'd away. And died upon her tomb ! Long loft ! yet ftill th' ideas rife Of what was then mofl: dear. And heave my throbbing breafl with fio-hs, And flart a fudden tear. I had a Friend, by Heav'n inclin'd To aft its darling part, The gen'rous foul, the candid mind, The fympathizing heart. Q 2 [ U6 3 With pity would his bofom move To fee my for rows flow, And oft with words and looks of iove He foftly footh'd my woe. But, ah ! that foothing voice is gone ; The feeling Friend's no more ! I figh, like fome poor wretch alone, Left on a defart fhore, Who round for comfort turns his eyes, But turns his eyes in vain. Here a wide wafte of horror lies, And there the boundlefs main. In him my hopes had bloom'd anew ; But fince that fatal hour, No melting eyes with Pity's dew Revive the fading flow'r. Remembrance ftill embitters thought. And thought increafes woe; O Peace ! fo long, fb vahily fought ! Where (hall I find thee now ? Come, Refignation, from the fky, With chearful Faith defcend ! 'Tis her's to raife the downcaft eye, And thou art Sorrow's friend. [ 117 ] Set me from tyrant pafTions free, And o'er my bofom reign ; O come ! and Peace will come with Thee, For She is of thy train. [ 118 ] EPISTLE TO A YOUNG LADY, While Arabella, proud of beauty's pow'r, To fix a pin deliberates an hour ; Then fpends another in a grave debate, To place a patch on this fide or on that ; Conlults her faithful glafs with anxious care, And bends, adoring the dear Idol there; Each feature forms, eachpleafing air infpires, And kindles in her eyes diviner fires ; Then haftes thofe charms in public to difplay, The gayeft in the circle of the gay : Far nobler cares my Sylvia's hours employ, Reafon's calm thought, and Virtue's facredjoy. Sec! of thy Sex light Folly leads along A giddy, trifling, flaunting, flutt'ring throng, Gay pupils of her fchool, and early taught The precious art to murder time and thought; From Reafon's voice who turn averfe their ear, Becaufe he's neither Fop, nor Flatterer. Camelion-minds ! no colour of their own. They take their tinfture from the mode alone. O Fafliion ! Proteus of a thoufand fliapes ! Thou dextrous mimic of ten thoufand apes ! Great Deity of Fools ! to thee fubmit The pow'r of Reafon, and the pride of Wit ! [ n9 ] Tade, Honour, Beauty are what you decree. And bafliful Virtue yields her blufh to thee. When at her toilet's talk Belinda bends. Thy influence hov'ring o'er her head attends, Prefides, infpires, and forms with hand unfeen The drefs without it, and the brain within, Varies her knots, and her opinions too, Difcards the old, and gives each day a new. When Eve, firft gazing on her wat'ry glafs. Beheld her beauteous form's reflefted grace. Hung with fond pleafure o'er the mimic there, And by that pleafure found that fhe was fair. Strait were her locks in artful order plac'd. With rofes deck'd, with amaranths inlac'd. Her trefTes taught to fall with graceful cafe, Flow down the milky neck, or float upon the breeze. Thus pride of Beauty feiz'd the Female thought. And foon for foreign aid Invention fought ; As Nature's handmaid Art at firfl was hir'd. But to be Millrefs foon the Maid afpir'd ; Of fweet Simplicity (he fcorn'd the praife. And tortur'd ev'ry mode ten thoufand ways. External beauties then engrofs their care. Each borrow'd elegance, each ftudied air, Negle6led flill thofe beauties more refin'd, The charms of. Virtue, and the grace of mind. Too ralh each feemingdilTonance we blame, By Nature raix'd in either Sex's frame : As from the elemental conflict fj^rings The fweet harmonious unifon of things. [ 120 ] So from the whole, thefe various parts compofc All fecial blifs— all focial order flows. E'en contrarieties make mufic here. As well-mix'd difcords pleafe a mafter-ear. Yes, Heav'n adorn'd the Sex divinely fair, And blefs'd the work, and ftamp'd his imao-e there: But Woman's wifdom thought the drefs too plain. Bid Vanity new-model it again, Torture their fhape, diflort their Maker's face, Paint, out of colour; polifli, out of grace. Or daub the native features of the Mind, And fpoil the Moral form, that Heav'n defisn'd. One common fate attends the Great and Fair — Expos'd to Flattery's too pleafuig fnare, While in their ear fhc trills her foothing ftrain, Truth, that plain counfellor, may preach in vain; She taints the tender mind, untutor'd yet, And forms alike the Tyrant, and Coquette ; Like conquerors they range with killing eyes, And value more the triumph than the prize. Yet tho' Lifette in quefl: of glory ftrays To vifits, auaions, balls, affemblies, plays, In vain abroad for fame the Fair would roam, For ftill the Female Hero's found at home ; Unlike thofe fiow'rs, which op'ning to the fun, Spread their proud glories to the glare of noon, Her modeft beauties fhun the day's full blaze, And blufhing fhrink from Admiration's gaze. Firft, Education warps the rifino- Mind, Their knowledge all to drefs and cards confin'd; [ 121 ] To think^s a tedious fclence, feldom taught, But Fafhion fills the vacant cells of thought, And furnifhes her toyfhop of the brain With all that's frivolous, with all that's vain. Mere children, ftill in novelty they joy. In each new Lover, as in each new toy; Their varied life is all an infant's play, They prattle, laugh, and trifle it away ; A very trifle 'tis, in truth, at beft, By turns, a ferious trifle, or a jeft. But fee, my Mufe ! to thy delighted view In fair diftinftion fhine a glorious Few, Who iti the mind's and body's graces fhow Whate'er of Eden vet remains below ; True Female dignity, exempt from pride, And all the Virtues with the Loves allied; Of manners polifli'd, and of heart Ilncere ; Nor wildly gay, nor prudifhly fevere ; Who, frank with modefty, referv'd with eafe, Win without art, and undeiigning pleafe, Averfe to fpread the fcandals of the town. Or blaft: another's fame to raife their own ; And tho' their eyes for no light caufe o'erfloAv, Yet ne'er afham'd to give a tear to woe. Whofe lips infpir'd with native eloquence Add grace to fcience, energy to fenfe ; Whofe fweet good-humour brightens ev'ry gloom, And Charity ftill breathes to Heav'n perfume. Thefe, when the rays of Beauty blaze no more, Will rule us ftill by Virtue's gentler pow'r, R [ 1^2 ] With fweet attra61iou ftill our hearts ensasfe. And flourifh ever amiable in age. While glares the Sun at his meridian height, Dazzled we turn away our wearied fight ; More pleas'd his milder ev'ning we behold Array'd in purple clouds, and thron'd in ikies of gold. Ye glitt'ring infeft tribes! Ye vain, and gay ! That in the fummer beam of Folly play ; When all the tranfient flow'rs of beauty die. When faint the glories of the liar-bright eye. When flies with youth the foul-enchanting pow'r, That bade the coxcomb gaze, the beaux adore. That gave to frowning, grace ; to nonfenfe, eafe ; And made caprice, and flights, and folly pleafe ; Say, what of all your blifs remains to cheer The wint'ry gloom of life's declining year ; Supply it's vanifh'd pleafures, charm its woes, And lull the throbbing bofom to repofe ? What, but vour former triumphs to review. Dream o'er old pleafures, and defpair of new. Throw envy's fhade o'er ev'ry rifing ray. That gilds the ball, and (hames your fetting day ; And, while your mirrors fpeak the faded grace, Fret o'er the ruins of your former face ; Your joy, poor remnant of the brilliant paft! Reduc'd to fcandal and to cards at laft. But thou, my Friend ! fi:ill live by Reafon's rules, And fcorn alike the praife and blame of Fools ; To deck the mind be thy peculiar care ; Juvite and cherifh ev'ry Virtue there ; [ 123 ] There let Religion fix her facred fhrine, And o'er thy bofom beam a ray divine : She'll give thee more than Splendor can beftow On her gay Haves, and pretty fools below ; The vivid flame, that warms the gen'rous breaft, And heav'n-born Charitv, in bleffing; bleft ; Refin'd defires, and dignity of foul; Courage, no mortal terrors can controul; Peace, 'mid the tempefl howling round ferene. Firm as a rock above the raging main ; And confcious Joy, that fcans with plealing care His own unruffled breail, and finds Elyfium there. While thoughtlefs triflers ridicule thy tafte, While the belles wonder, and the witlings jeft. Still fhall thy foul in real beauty rife. In real blifs, and brighten for the Ikies. r2 I 124 ] TO A YOUXG LADY, JriTII MILTON'^ PARADISE LOST. In thefe ench'anting lines, (which Raphael taught. And to the Bard in nightly vifion brought,) Youns Nature's rilins; charms in bloom we view, How Beauty triumph'd, when the World was new : In Eden all her varying graces meet. Irregularly fair, and wildly fweet ; Ere yet the ferpent fram'd his wily fnare. Or woman liften'd to a flatterer. Ah ! then a poifon blafted all its pride. Its verdure wither'd, and its graces died ; Then Nature's throbbing bofom heav'd with fighs ; A o-loom of forrow darken'd all the ikies ; Then tears firft ftain'd the Guardian Angel's eye. And paus'd on Gabriel's lyre the heav'nly harmony. Such is the Spring of Life's revolving year : A cloudlefs azure robes the radiant fphere ; In golden light, to Fancy's raptur'd eyes. Bright images of blifs and beauty rife ; Ethereal fragrance breathes o'er all the ground. And Hope expands her bloflbms blufhing round ; With Love and Folly laugh the young-ey'd Hours, And Pleafurc lulls us in her flow'ry bow'rs. Then, like fome gentle Raphael from the fky. Mild Reafon points the fecret danger nigh ; L 125 ] But, ah ! that Guardian Angel warns in vain j We hear the tedious leflbn with difdain ; Inflam'd by paflion, or befool'd by pride, Some cunning Tempter leads our fteps afide ; Some Vice, with outfide glorious to behold. With beauty's face, and creft of burnifh'd gold : To groves fhe guides, where airs ambrofial blow ; Where ftreams of nedar wind in gentle flow. And fruits Hefperian glitter on the bough. The fhining bait we view with curious eye, And longing hafte forbidden blifs to try ; Our wifh unfated leaps o'er ev'ry bound ; 'Tis all delight — 'tis all Elyiium round : But fudden black defcending ftorms invade. Shake down the fruit, and fcatter all the fliade ; Or, while we llrive our pleafures to renew, The blifsful gardens vanifh from the view ; Where fhone the obje6t of our fierce defires, Avenging Angels glare, and waving fires ; And, woful wand' ring o'er the howling wafte, We fear the future, and lament the paft. Ye thoughtlefs Fair ones ! guard your ears and eyes ; Let Eve's fad error make her daughters wife. Vice has a thoufand forms, a thoufand arts To charm your fight, and fafcinate your hearts ; Pleafure's gay fmile, and Fancy's Syren fong, And Pride's embroider'd robe, and Flatt'ry's tongue. When Adulation's warbling voice ye hear, O fly ! and think the Serpent is too near. That fatal fruit ! how much our Race it cofl ! Love, peace, and joy, with innocence were lofl ; } [ 12G ] Then heav'n-born Piety, diflionour'd here, Spread her white wing, and fought her native fpherc. Yet from her Ikies the Seraph oft defcends Propitious to a few, but chofen Friends, And tho' fhe haunts no more her Eden's bow'rs, Fall'n all its honours, faded all its flow'rs, To that foft breaft ftill loves fhe to repair, And fiijds another nobler Eden there. [ 127 ] SONNETS. TO A YOUNG LADY. Fair Maid! whofe radiant eyes, and manners mild. Here gild the glooms, and make the woods rejoice, In you, Religion haunts the lonely wild, And in the defert lifts again her voice. In you her awe-commanding charms array'd With fofter airs, and winning grace we view : Her heav'nly road more chearfully we tread. Our fair Angelic guide, and Genius, You. Thus, call'd from fervitude the Chofen Seed, O'er barren hills, and rocks, and defert ground, With many a tedious weary wand' ring led. In the wide wafte a flaming Angel found, Who flill before their legions took his fland. To point their footfleps to the promis'd land. THE COQUETTE. While in Zelinda's form and angel air The charms of blooming Eden rife to view. Know, thoughtlefs Youth ! that Paradife fo fair Conceals a fly deceiving ferpent too. [ 128 ] What tho' her eyes, too fmall to hurt a heart. Too artlefs feem, too innocent to kill. They wound like Cupid's fmall, yet deadly dart. Soft as the plume, but piercing as the fteel. Tho' virgin coynefs blufhes o'er her face, Tho' feeming Nature flows in ev'ry grace, And her mild looks ethereal funlhine fhow, She's like the furface of a fhallow fea. Where heav'n's reflefted beams ferenely play. Yet lie the rocks and lurking Fate below. FIRST BEAUTY. Light as the breeze, and frolic as the May, My carelefs Mufe her idle ditties funo- : To mortal beauty trill'd her airy lay. Round Folly's fhrine her flow'ry garland huno- ; 'Till Grace, kind Cherub, lighting from the fphere, To the Firft Beauty rais'd my fervid mind, Stamp'd the bright image of his glory there. Parent of hallow'd fires, and joys refin'd. Still, Sov'reign Fair ! th' idea deep impjeft, Chears my lone mufmgs, elevates my breaft. Rules o'er my numbers, and my rapture warms ; There let the facred paflion ever glow. Sweet as thy li\'ing ftreams of pleafure flow. Bright as thy beams, immortal as thy charms ! [ 129 J FAITH. Life's ceafelefs labours, and illufive joys, It's ftorins and vvu>'es, Vv'hat brazen bieaft could bear, Did not tbe Cherub Faith's revi\ ing voice Sound it's Iweet mufic in Affliction's ear ? See fhe waves high upon her heav'nly fliore Her flaming brand, that guides me to be blefl ! Ye foaming billows roll — ve tempefts roar ! Your ra2;e but drives me fooner to mv reft. The Seaman thus, long toft by ftormy feas. Worn out with toil, and finking with difeafe, With looks of rapture eyes the black'ning land. Forgets the paft, and fmiles at prefent pain, Feels a new vigour thrill through ev'rv vein. And leaps exidting on the welcome ftrand. FANCY. O Fancy! Goddefs of the magic wand! Which as thou wav'ft a thoufand beauties rLic : Where'er we tread, 'tis all a fairy land. Gay vales, and verdant groves, and golden Ikies. s I 130 ) While pleas'd we fee the fair illufions play, Like fome light vifion fades the fleeting fceae The fmiling joys diffolve iti tears away, Like glitt'ring vapours melting down to rain. Ah Friend ! how vain the chafe of blifs below ! Our jjleafures are too near allied to woe. In fearch fatigue us — in poiTeflion cloy. Curb then the roving wifh, the fond defire, Which prey upon the foul like fecret fire ; Content thy wealth — and virtue be thy joy. HOPE. Ah Hope ! thou lovely, fmiling, faithlefs Fair ! By doating Fancy cloth'd in vivid dyes, In all the radiance of Elyfian ikies ; Parent of vain defire, and vainer care ! See at thy (hrine enamour'd crouds adore ! With lurking art you flatter and deceive ; While they, tho' fliU deluded, ftill believe ; Too well I know thee now, to trufi: thee more. My Friend ! engage r.ot in her fairy race : Scorn not the bleffings in thy pow'r, to chace Her airy forms of blifs, that fafter fly. Bound thy wild wifhes, if thou would'fl: be bleft : Improve the prefent, leave to Heav'n the reft. The Fool for ever hopes— the Wife enjoy. C 131 ] A WISH. Akgels! that roll the circling orbs on high, And guide the years and feafons down the Iky, O hear my fond requefl, propitious pow'rs ! For Rofalind feled your foftefl hours ; From fuch, as fhed delight on Friendfhip's breaft ; From fuch, as make the virtuous Lover bleft ; From fuch, as o'er Elyfian regions roll, And fill with holy joys the Seraph's foul. May fair profperity's unclouded ray For ever fhine — and fanning Zephyrs play To make her life one fmiling vernal day. In griefs of others only let her grieve, And then, to heal that pain, indulgent give The blifs, which moft fhe values — to relieve. I TO A FRIEND. Too fond the world's applaufe to gain. Say will the purchafe quit the coft ? What you with endlefs toil obtain, May in a moment all be lofl:. s2 [ 132 ] Fame oft is like a vernal flower, Which Iheds awhile a fweet perfume ; But Time may fhakc it from its bower, Or Envy blaft the blufliine; bloom. "O But, Friend ! the glory that proceeds From noble aims, from generous deeds, Will ever flourifli frelh and fair In the bright gardens of the (kv ; Old Time can never enter there. And Envy cannot foar fo high. GOLD. Almighty Gold ! whofe magic charms dlfpenfe Worth to the worthlefs, to the gracelefs grace, To cowards valour, and to blockheads fenfe, And to the withcr'd Maid a Hebe's face. Poor Love exil'd, thou fit'ft on Hymen's throne ; Thou rurft the court, the fenate, and the bar ; And tho' the church thy Deity difown. Some whifper thou haft prieft ar,d altar there. All hnman charities, all laws divine Deluded mortals offer at thy flirine ; O thou fupreme, like Fate, to kill, or fave ! To thy vaft empire what is wanting more ? " Nought," fighs Avaro, " had it but the pow'r «' To filence confciencc, and to bribe the grave." [ 133 ] TO THE NIGHTINGALE. Melodious Philomela! pleas'd I hear In the lone woods thy love-refounding lay. Where the world's din, like thunder from afar, Juft mutters in the wind, and dies away. Known to a few lov*d Friends thefe fhades among, Clofe treafur'd from the noify crowd, like thee, I'd chaunt the rural, or the moral fbng. In native wood-notes warblino; wild and free. Heav'n never form'd me for the world's affairs, Too much a foe to all its ftrifes and cares. Content with little in obfcure repofe. To Life's high ftorm-vext top let others rife ; Low in the vale my lot more fafely lies. Nor heeds which way the raging tempefl: blows. PEACE. O Peace, of fmiling lip, and look ferene ! Whofe gentle voice the breaft of trouble charms, With all my foul I court thee — but in vain — While envious Care flill frowns thee from my arms. [ 1*^^ 1 Ah ! I had hope thy lovely form to view. Where on yon arbour breathes the blooming rofc But ftill the buzzing fwarms of Care purfuc. Nor fuffer me to tafte thy wilh'd repofe. Thus the tir'd Seaman on the fwclling feas In diftant profpedl hails the rifnig land : Now opens on his eye the port of peace ; His fond ideas tread the blifsful ilrand ; But ftill the howling ftorm and ragiiiff main To fea drive back his lliatter'd bark asain. AN IMITATION OF PETRARCIFS SONNET 3l4r. lo vo piangendo i mei paflati tempi. Sec. Pensive I now the trifled years deplore, When mortal charms engrols'd my vain defires, Still grov'ling on the ground, tho' born to foar, And with ftrong pinion reach the flarry fires* O Heav'n's Eternal King ! propitious ftill My griefs regard with pity's tender eye ; Succour a feeble mind, a wand'ring will, And what my virtue wants, let grace fupply ! Grant, that with ftorms and billows long diftrefl". In port at length my weary foul may reft ; Tho' vain my hfe, O fandify its end! For what remains my guide and guardian be, Living I'd live, and dying die to Thee — Thee, my fole refuge— Thee, my laft bcH: Friend! I 135 ] THE HUNDRED AND THIRTY.SECOND PSALM TRANSLATED. While by the ftreams that windino- flow Where Babel's haughty towers arile. We lilent fate in folemn woe, For thee, O Zion ! heav'd our fighs. For thee flole down the frequent tear. To memory for ever dear ! W^hile waving on the willow -bouo-h Our unregarded harps were huno-, *' Hence forrow!" cried th' infultine foe. " And chaunt the cheerful feflal fon^ : *' Such fongs as, in her happier days, " On Zion's hill refounded praife." Doom'd to the yoke and galling chain, Our antient fame and freedom lofl-, Ah ! can we chaunt a cheerful ftrain, W^hile fallen Zion droops in duft ? Or to unhallow'd ears proclaim Our God, Jehovah's awful name ? Lov'd Zion ! fhould a foreign land E'er blot thine image from my heart. Mute be my tongue, unnerv'd my hand, And quite forgot my tuneful art ! For Thee my lays fliall ever flow In melting founds that waken m oe ! [ 13^ 1 Thy vengeance, Lord ! let Edom feel ! Who pitilels beheld her hill, Edg'd with new rage the hoftile fteel, And triumj^hM o'er her broken wall. " Spread, fpread," he cried, " her ruins round, " And rafe her glory to the ground." Proud Babel! tremble at thy doom ! I fee, 1 fee thy dreadful day ! Soon fhall the fierce avenger come. Who fliall our mighty wrongs repay. And, harden'd to the mother's moans, Dalh her dear infant on the ftones. [ 137 ] HYMNS. DIVINE LOVE. IMy God," thy bouncUefs love I praife ; How bright on high its glories blaze ! How fweetly bloom below ! It ftreams from thine eternal throne ; Thro' heav'n its joys for ever run, And o'er the earth they flow. 'Tis love that paints the purple morn, And bids the clouds in air upborn Their genial drops diflil ; In ev'ry vernal beam it glows, And breathes in ev'ry gale that blows,. And glides in ev'ry rill. It robes in cheerful green the ground. And pours its flow'ry beauties round, Whofe fweets perfume the gale; Its bounties richly fpread the plain. The blulhing fruit, the golden grain. And fmile on ev'ry vale. But in thy gofpel fee it fliine With grace and glories more divine, Proclaiming (ins forgiv'n ; There Faith, bright cherub, points the way To realms of everlafling day. And opens all her heav'n. T [ 138 ] Then let the love that makes me blefl, With cheerful praife infpire my breafl, And ardent gratitude ; And all my thoughts and paffions tend To thee, my father and my friend, My foul's eternal good. Dart from thine own celeftial flame One vivid beam to warm my frame With kindred energy ; Mark thine own image on my mind ; And teach me to be good and kind. And love and blefs like thee. WISDOM AND VIRTUE SOUGHT FROM GOD, Supreme and univerfal lisfht ! Fountain of Rcafon ! Judge of right ! Parent of good ! whofe bleffuigs flow On all above and all below ; Without whofe kind, direfting ray. In everlafling night we ftray, From paffion flill to paffion toft. And in a maze of error loft ; Affift me, Lord, to aft, to be. What nature and thy laws decree ; Worthy that intelledual flame Which from thy breathing fpirit came. C i'^9 ] My mortal freedom to maintain. Bid pafTion ferve, and reafon reign, Self-pois'd, and independent ft ill On this world's varying good or ill. No {lave to profit, fhame, or fear, O may my ftedfaft bofom bear The ftamp of heav'n, an houeft heart. Above the mean difguife of art ! May my expanded foul, difclaim The narrow view, the felfifh aim; But with a chriftian zeal embrace Whate'er is friendly to my race. O Father! grace and virtue grant; No more I wifh, no more I want : To know, to ferve thee, and to love, Is peace below, is blifs above. THE UNRIVALLED BEAUTY AND GLORY OF RELIGION. Soft are the fruitful fhow'rs that brinsr The welcome promife of the fpring. And foft the vernal gale ; Sweet the wild warblings of the grove, The voice of nature and of love, That gladden ey'ry vale. T 2 [ 140 ] But fofter in the mourner's ear Sounds the mild voice of mercy near. That whifpcrs fins fofgiv'n ; And fweeter far the mufic f\\ ells, When to the raptur'd foul flic tells Of peace and promis'd hcav'n. Fair are the flovv'rs that deck the groiind ; And groves and gardens blooming round Unnumber'd charms unfold; Bright is tlie fun's meridian ray, And bright the beams of fetting day. That robe the clouds in gold. But far more fair the pious breafl;, In richer robes of goodnefs drell. Where heav'n's own graces Ihine ; And brighter far the profpedls rife That burfl: on Faith's delighted eyes From glories all divme. All earthly charms, however dear, Howe'er they pleafe the eye or ear. Will quickly fade and fly ; Of earthly glory faint the blaze, And foon the tranfitory rays In endlefs darknefs die. The nobler beauties of the juft Shall never moulder in the duft, Or know a faio\v evening steals upon the glowing scene, Her colours tremble on the wave serene ; The dews of balm on languid flowers descend, The mellow tinges of the landscape blend ; Hail I placid eve, thy lingering smiles diffuse A pensive pleasure to the lonely muse. I love to wander by the ocean side, And hear the soothing murmurs of the tide ; To muse upon the poet's fairy-tale, In fancy wafted to the moonlight vale : Sometimes I think that Ariel's playful bands Are lightly hovering o'er " these yellow sands." 73 'Tis thus that Shakspeare -with inspiring song, Can lead the visionary train along ; Then by his magic spell the scene around, The " yellow sands" become enchanted ground. But when the lingering smile of even dies. And when the mild and silvery moonbeams rise, Then sweeter is the favourite rustic seat, Where pensile ash trees form the green retreat, And mingle with the richer foliage round, To cast a trembling shadow on the ground; 'Tis there retir'd I pour the artless rhyme. And court the muses at this tranquil time. Oh I Genius, lead me to Pierian bowers, And let me cull a few neglected flowers : By all the poets, fanciful and wild, Whose tales my hours of infancy beguil'd, Oh I let thy spirit animate my lyre, And all the numbers of my youth inspire. Perhapsi, where now I pour the simple lays. Thy bards have wak'd the song of other days ; Some Cambrian Ossian may have wander'd near, While airy music murmur'd in his ear : Perhaps, even here, beneath the moonlight beam, Jie lov'd to ponder some entrancing theme ; 74 And here, while heavenly visions fill'd his eye, He rais'd the strain of plaintive melody; This fond idea consecrates the hour, And more endears the calm secluded bower. Sweet was the Cambrian harp in ancient time, When tuneful bards awak'd the song sublime ; And minstrels caroH'd in the banner'd hall, Where warlike trophies grac'd the lofty wall ; They sang the legends and traditions old, The deeds of chivalry, and heroes bold. Oh I Cambria, tho' thy sweetest bards are dead. And fairies from thy lovely vales are fled ; Still in thy sons the musing mind may trace The vestige of thy former simple race : Some pious customs yet preserv'd with care, Their humble village piety declare; Ah ! still they strew the fairest flowers and weep, Where buried friends of sacred memory sleep. The wandering harper, too, in plaintive lays. Declares the glory of departed days ; And, Cambria, still upon thy fertile plains, The power of hospitality remains. Yet shall my muse the pleasing task resign. Till riper judgement all her songs rcfme ; 73 But let my sportive lyre resume again The purpos'd theme, to hail another's strain. Yes, heavenly Genius, I have heard thee raise The note of truth, of gratitude, and praise. 'Twas thine with modest indigence to dwell, And warble sweetly in the loAvly cell ; To rove with Bloomfield thro' the woodland shade. And hail the calm seclusion of the glade: Beneath the greenwood canopy reclin'd, 'Twas thine to elevate his artless mind. While in the lovely scene " to him so dear,'" He trac'd the varied beauties of the year ; And fondly loiter'd in the summer bower. To hail the incense of the morning hour ; Or thro' the rich autumnal landscape rov'd, And rais'd a grateful hymn for all he lov'd. Oh I Genius, ever with thy favour'd band May Piety be seen with aspect bland ; And conscious Honour with an eye serene, And Independence with exalted mein. Ah I may'st thou never to Ambition bend. Nor at the shrine of Luxury attend ; But rather consecrate some tranquil home, And in the vale of peace and pleasure bloom. There may'st thou wander from the world retir'd, And court the dreams by poesy inspir'd ; 76 And sometimes all thy pleasing spells employ, To bid aflliction own a transient joy : For oft 'tis thine to chase the tear away With soothing harp and melancholy lay; And sorrow feels the magic for a while, And then, with sad expression, learns to smile. Oh I teach me all the soft bewitching art, The music that may cheer a wounded heart : For I would love to bid emotion cease, With sweetest melodies that whisper peace ; And all the visions of delight restore. The soflen'd memory of hours no more. Ah I Genius, when thy dulcet measures flow. Then pleasure animates the cheek of woe ; And sheds a sad and transitory grace. O'er the pale beauty of the languid face. But when 'tis thine to feel the pang of grief. Without one melting friend to bring relief; Then, who thy pain shall soften and beguile. What gentle spirit cheer thee with a smile ; And bid thy last departing hopes revive, And all thy flattering dreams of rapture live ? Oh ! turn to Him thy supplicating eye, Tlic God of peace and tenderest charity; 77 And He will bless thee with consoling power, And elevate thy soul in sorrow's hour. Ah I then a pensive beam of joy shall play, To cheer thee, weeping Genius, on thy way : A lovely rainbow tlien for thee shall rise, And shed a lustre o'er the cloudy skies. Tho' all thy fairy prospects are no more, And tho' the visions of thy youth are o'er ; Yet Sorrow shall assume a softer mein. Like Melancholy, mournful yet serene : The placid Muse to thee her flowers shall bring, And Hope shall " wave her golden hair," and sing With magic power dispel the clouds on high. And raise the veil of bright eternity. RURAL WALKS. Oh ! may I ever pass my happy hours In Cambrian vallies and romantic bow'rs ; For every spot in sylvan beauty drest, And every landscape charms my youthful breast. And much I love to hail the vernal morn. When flowers of spring the mossy seat adorn ; And sometimes thro' the lonely wood 1 stray. To cull the tender rosebuds in my way ; 78 And seek in every wild secluded dell, The weeping cowslip, and the azure bell ; With all the blossoms, fairer in the dew, To form the gay festoon of varied hue. And oft I seek the cultivated green. The fertile meadow, and the village scene ; Where rosy children sport around the cot. Or gather woodbine from the garden spot. And there I wander by the cheerful rill, That murmurs near the osiers and the mill ; To view the smiling peasants turn the hay, And listen to their pleasing festive lay. I love to loiter in the spreading grove. Or in the mountain scenery to rove ; Where summits rise in awful grace around, With hoary moss and tufted verdure crown'd ; Where cliffs in solemn majesty are pil'd, " And frown upon the vale" with grandeur wild: And there I view the mouldering tower sublime, Array'd in all the blending shades of time. The airy upland and the woodland green. The valley, and romantic mountain scene ; The lowly hermitage, or fair domain, The dell retir'd, or willow-shaded lane ; " And every spot in sylvan beauty drest. And every landscape charms my youthful breast." 79 THE ALPINE SHEPHERD. In scenery sublime and rude, In wild romantic solitude, Where awful summits crown'd with snow, In soft and varied colours glow ; There, in some grassy shelter'd spot. The Alpine shepherd forms his cot ; And there, beside his peaceful home, The fairest mountain-flowerets bloom ; There oft his playful children climb The rock fantastic and sublime. And cull the mantling shrubs that creep, And sweetly blossom o'er the steep. 'Tis his to mark the morning ray, Upon the glittering scenery play ; To Avatch the purple evening shade, In sweet and mellow tinges fade ; And hail the sun's departing smile, That beams upon the hills a while : And oft, at moonlight hour serene, He wanders thro' the shadowy scene: And then his pipe with plaintive sound Awakes the mountain-echoes round. 80 How dear to hiin the shelter'd spot, The waving pines that shade his cot ; His pastoral music wild and gay, May charm his simple cares away ; And never will he sigh to roam, Far from hjs native mountain-home. SONNET, TO AGNES. Ah ! could my Agnes rove these favourite shades, With mirth and friendship in the Cambrian vale. In mossy dells, or Avild romantic glades. Where flowers uncultur'd scent the sportive gale; And could she wander at the morning hour. To hail with me, the blest return of May ; Or linger sweetly in the woodbine bower, When early dews begem the weeping spray; Ah I soon her cheek the lovely mantling bloom Of sprightly youth, and pleasure, would disclose ; Her lip the smile of Hebe would resume, And wear the blushes of the vernal rose ; And soon would cherub health with lively grace, Beam in her eye, and animate her face. 81 CHRISTMAS. The sunbeams glitter on the mountain snow, And o'er the summit cast a transient glow ; Now silver frost adorns the drooping bower, My favourite seat in summer's happy hour. 'Twas there, when spring the mantling blossoms shed. The sweet liburnum cluster'd o'er my head ; And there the robin form'd a mossy nest, And gaily caroH'd in retirement blest; Still memory loves to paint the glowing scene, When autumn tints enrich'd the foliage green. Even yet the bower is lovely in decay. Gilt by the " sunbeam of a winter's day ;" For now the frost befringes every thorn. And sparkles to the radiant smile of morn : The lucid ice has bound the mountain rill, No more it murmurs by the cheerful mill. I hear the village bells upon the gale ; And merry peasants wander thro' the vale ; In gay convivial bands they rove along, With genuine pleasure and inspiring song ; I meet the rustic troop, and love to trace The smile of health in every rosy face. M 82 Oh I Christmas, welcome to thy happy reign, And all the social virtues in thy train ; The Cambrian harper hails thy festal time, With sportive melody and artless rhyme : Unlike the bards who sung in days of old, And all the legends of tradition told ; In gothic castles deck'd with banners gay, At solemn festivals they pour'd the lay : Their poor descendant wanders thro' the vales, And gains a welcome by his artless tales ; He finds a seat in every humble cot. And hospitality in every spot ; 'Tis now he bids the sprightly harp resound. To bless the hours with genial plenty crown'd. And now the gay domestic joys we prove, The smiles of peace, festivity, and love. " Oh I Christmas, welcome to thy hallow'd reign. And all the social virtues in thy train ;" Compassion listening to the tale of grief. Who seeks the child of sorrow with relief; And every muse with animating glee, Congenial mirth and cordial sympathy. 83 THE WREATH OF SPRING. I rov'd in the meadows, the vales, and the bowers, While the leaves were bespangled with dew ; And I cuU'd in profusion the blossoms and flowers, Excelling in fragrance and hue. The primrose of spring in the wreath I combin'd. And the violet modest and pale ; And there the wild roses and myrtles entwin'd, With the lily which droops in the vale. The harebell that smiles in the dingle I sought, Of the softest ethereal blue ; And then to Celinda the garland I brought. While the buds were all shining in dew. o " Oh I take the sweet flowers in their 'beauty," I said, " While yet they are lovely and gay ; " For soon, my Celinda, their bloom will be fled, " Too early they wither away. " This lily so gracefully languid and fair, " Might have faded unseen in the grove; " Yet the balm of its odour was borne on the air. " And it weeps in the wreath of my love. 84 " To you, my Celinda, the rose-bud I bring, " While its leaves are begemm'd with the dew, " 'Tis the darling of Flora, the treasure of spring ; " How lovely an emblem of you. " But oh I when the roses of beauty and youth, " Like the bloom of the flower shall decay ; " The myrtle of love and perennial truth, " Shall be smiling and fresh as in May." SONNET TO A DYING EXOTIC Ah I lovely faded plant, the blight I mourn. That withered all thy blossoms fair and gay ; I saw thee blushing to the genial May, And now thy leaves are drooping and forlorn. I mark'd thy early beauty with a smile. And saw with pride the crimson buds expand ; They open'd to the sunbeam for a while, By all the flattering gales of summer fann'd. Ah I faded plant, I raise thy languid head. And moisten every leaf with balmy dew ; But now thy rich luxuriant bloom is Hed, Thy foliage wears a pale autumnal hue; Too soon thy glowing colours have decay'd, Like thee the flowers of pleasure smile and fade. 85 THE VALE OF CLWYD. INSCRIBED TO MISS FOTJLKES, OF ERIVIATT. The lovely vale is Cambria's pride, Luxuriant garden of the land ; There plenty smiles on every side, There bright and fertile meads expand. Array'd in every glowing hue, How varied all the sylvan view, With tufted woods, romantic glades, And spires embosom'd in the shades. There cultivation decks the scene. The happy prospect all around ; There pastures bloom for ever green, The plains with golden sheaves are crown'd. There cheerful cottages appear. Beside the river calm and clear ; And fields that wave with bending corn, The fair extensive vale adorn. And there the castle still sublime, With turrets falling fast away. Remains the monument of time. The awful emblem of decay. 86 'Twas near that pile in ages fled, That warrior's fought, and heroes bled ; While crimson banners wav'd on high, In all the pomp of victory. Alas I the lone deserted wall, A mournful ruin now appears ; . Yet still majestic in its fall, Tho' mouldered by consuming years. Beside the long-forsaken towers, O'ergrown with ivy and with flowers. There at the close of evening gray, The wandering moralist might stray ; With pensive pleasure there to gaze. On all the grandeur of the pile ; To meditate on former days. And muse on fortune's transient smile. And by those arches long decay'd, In faded beauty still display'd, There might the lonely poet hail, The rural prospect of the vale, f\.nd those by charms of nature fir'd, May rove amidst this Cambrian scene ; Ii mossy dells, or groves retir'd, Beside the lawns of brightest green. 87 And there by Cynthia's placid beam, May wander near the winding stream ; To view the fair arcadian vale, More pleasing in the lustre pale. Tho' lovely is the dawn of day, When morning sheds reviving dews ; Yet sweeter is the silver ray, And dearer to the plaintive muse. For by the soft and mellow light, That trembles thro' the clouds of night, Then all the landscape is array'd, In pensive grace and blending shade. The smiling vale is Cambria's pride, There hospitality remains ; There peace and elegance reside. And seek the mansions of the plains. Oh I still may cultivation's hand Enrich the garden of the land ; May Ceres there her treasures yield. And ever crown the fertile field. And there may peace for ever reign ; Ne'er may the cheering harvest fail ; May plenty lead her sportive train. And with profusion bless the vale. 88 SEA PIECE, BY MOONLIGHT. How sweet to mark the soften'd ray, O'er the ocean lightly play ; Now no more the billows rave, Clear and tranquil is the wave; While I view the vessel glide, O'er the calm cerulean tide. Now might fays, and fairy bands, Assemble on these " yellow sands ;" For this the hour, as poets tell, That oft they leave the flowery cell. And lead the sportive dance along, While spirits pour the choral song. The moonbeam sheds a lustre pale, And trembles on the distant sail ; And now the silvery clouds arise, To veil the radiance of the skies ; But soon I view the ligiht serene. Gild again the lovely scene. LINES TO MAJOR COX, ON RECEIVING FROM HIM AN ELEGANT BOX OF COLOURS. Tho' youthful ardour fires my glowing heart, To copy Nature with enchanting Art ; . Ah! still I fondly strive with effort vain, The pencil's flowing graces to attain. But when Instruction guides my roving feet, To reach the Muse of Painting's lofty seat ; Where Genius learns in raasiic colours warm. To join Expression's fire, and Beauty's form ; If then 'tis mine with energy to trace The varied charms of Nature's bloominai; face; To dress the mimic flowers in rainbow dyes, Bright as the blushes of the orient skies ; N 90 In glowing hues to bid the landscape live, Or to the figure animation give ; Oh I then, my pencil's tribute justly due, Sweet Gratitude shall consecrate to you. SONNET. Ah ! now farewell, thou sweet and gentle maid. Beside thy simple grave we oft shall mourn ; And plant a willow Avhere thy form is laid, And then with flowers the weeping tree adorn. Oft shall we sing thy melancholy tale, When all the shades of evening steal around; And oft assemble by the moonlight pale. To lino-er near the consecrated o-round. And oh ! if spirits e'er on earth descend, To hover o'er some chosen hallow' d spot ; Around thy tomb shall airy bands attend, And humble villagers shall weep thy lot. Ah I fair departed maid, thy placid mind Was calm in sorrow, and to Heaven resign'd. 91 THE PATH OF LIFE. INSCRIBED TO MISS C- When first to youth's enchanted eyes The flattering world discloses ; Oh I then unclouded are the skies, The lovely scenes of hope arise, The path is deck'd with roses. Like summer clouds or April showers, Our sorrows pass away ; In smiling Fancy's fairy bowers, We sport the gay delightful hours, Of life's propitious May. But ah I how short our festal morn, How soon our spring is fled ; Those golden days no more return ; The fairest flowers conceal a thorn ; The path of life we tread. Some wander thro' a rugged way. Forsaken and opprest ; While others cheer'd by Fortune's ray. Thro' Pleasure's laughing region stray, In rainbow colours drest. 92 The early votaries of the muse, Too fondly hope to rove, Thro' blissful meads, where flov^'ers diffuse Their balmy sweets and glowing hues, Around the bower of love. How fair to youth's enchanted eyes. The flattering world discloses; But soon the dear illusion flies, And weeds and pointed thorns arise. To blend Avith fraairant roses. Oh I may the path of life for thee, Still wear a vernal smile ; May Hope thy sweet companion be. And Friendship, Love, and Sympathy, Thy happy hours beguile. Be thine with airy steps to trace. Some bright and sunny -way ; Oh I still may Health with sportive grace, And mantlmg bloom adorn thy face, And bid thy heart be gay. 93 THE MORNING WALK. Come, let us wander thro' the woodland bowers, Or seek the primrose in the lonely dale ; For now the tears of April gem the flowers, That shed their balmy incense on the gale. Beside the margin of the winding stream The shdpherd leads his sportive flock along ; The woodlark soars to hail the morning beam, And tunes the music of his matin sons:. s In dewy meads with flowers and verdure drest, The blooming children of the cottage play ; With soft compassion spare the downy nest, And gaily carol as they rove away. Now fairy spring adorns the lovely scene, In mossy dells the fragrant violets blow ; And veil'd in opening leaves of tender green, Uncultur'd roses in profusion glow. Come, let us hail the vernal smile of morn, Delightful hour, inspiring to the muse ; The redbreast warbles on the budding thorn. And every blossom shines in pearly dews. 94 With mantling woodbine every hedge is crown'd ; In airy grace the sweet liburnums bend ; And o'er the lawns and grassy meads around, The April showers in genial balm descend. Etherial spring ! I love thy gentle air ; I love thy garlands breathing soft perfume, Entwin'd with azure bells and lilies fair, And early roses in luxuriant bloom. Again I rove the woodland and the glade. Again the linnet's mellow note I hear; With artless pleasure wandering in the shade, To cull the treasures of the infant year. HARVEST HYMN. Now Autumn strews on every plain His mellow fruits and fertile grain ; And laughing Plenty crown'd with sheaves, With purple grapes, and spreading leaves, In rich profusion pours around, Her flowing treasures on the ground. 95 Oh ! mark the great, the liberal hand, That scatters blessin2;s o'er the land ; And to the God of Nature raise The grateful song, the hymn of praise. The infant corn in vernal hours. He nurtur'd with his gentle showers, And bade the summer clouds diffuse Their balmy store of genial dews. He mark'd the tender stem arise, Till ripen'd by the glowing skies ; And now matur'd, his work behold. The cheering harvest waves in gold. To nature's God with joy we raise The grateful song, the hymn of praise. The vallies echo to the strains Of blooming maids, and village swains ; To Him they tune the lay sincere. Whose bounty crowns the smiling year. The sounds from every woodland borne, The sio-hino; winds that bend the corn, The yellow fields around proclaim His mighty everlasting name. To nature's God united raise The grateful song, the hymn of praise. %, rJt&i A TRIBUTE TO THE GENIUS OF ROBERT BURNS. As in the lone sequester'd grove, The wood lark on the bending spray, Attunes to liberty and love The sportive lay : 'Twas thus in mountain scenes retir'd. That Scotia's minstrel, nature's child, Would sing, by ardent genius fir'd, His carol wild. In poverty his generous heart, With freedom and with fancy glow'd ; And native strains untaught by art, Spontaneous flow'd. 97 Oh I Burns, to every feeling breast, To every gentle mind sincere, By love and tender pity blest, Thy song is dear. Sweet bard I 'twas thine to soar on high, With inspiration and the muse ; To claim from beauty's radiant eye Compassion's dews; To raise the smile of social glee, The patriot's manly heart to fire ; Or wake the tear of sympathy, With plaintive lyre. Sweet bard I for thee the muses mourn. In melting lays they sing thy name ; And twine, to deck thy sacred urn, The wreath of fame. THE VERNAL SHOWER. Now the lucid tears of May Gem the blossoms of the spray ; Every leaf antl bending flower Glitters in the vernal shower, o 98 Lovely in the clouded sky, See the rainbow shines on high ; Mark the heavenly colours bright, Ere they vanish from the sight. Hark! the warblers gaily sing; Sweet the melodies of spring ; When the youthful heart at ease, Bids the native music please. Fairer now the view around, Brighter veidure decks the ground ; Flora, smiling in the bower, Hails the tender vernal shower. See I again tlie skies appear. Glad in blue serenely^ clear ; Now the sun with placid ray Gilds the scene, and all is gay. Gool and fragrant is the gale, Breathing sweets from yonder vale, Where the flowers in blooming pride, Smile upon the fountain side. Now the linnets in the grove. Tune the mellow sonsi of love ; Mild and genial is the hour, Sweet the balmy vernal shower. 99 EVENING, ON THE SEA SHORE. Sweet evening hour! thy gale is balm, And fragrant are thy pearly dews ; Thine is the mild and genial calm, Belov'd by zephyr and the muse. With fading smile the rosy day, Now lingers in the radiant west : The breezes oer the water play, The summer Avaves are luU'd to rest. I love to mark the glowing skies, Reflected in the glassy deep ; To watch the star of evening rise. When all the ocean seems to sleep. But see I the twilight mantle gray, O'er all the fading view is spread ; The glow'ing skies are pass'd away, The bright and purple clouds are fled. While memory loves i^nseen to mourn. Alone to shed the sacred tear ; Still to the muse thy blest return. Oh I pensive twilight, sliall be dear. 100 Now I^t me pour the soothing lay, And hear the waves that murmuring glide; And wander till the moonlight ray, Serenely trembles on the tide. Come, gentle Fancy, rove with me, At this thy favourite shadowy hour ; Awake soft music, from the sea, And call the fairies by thy power. SONNET. I LOVE to hail the mild the balmy hour, When evening spreads around her twilight veil; When dews descend on every languid flower, And sweet and tranquil is the summer gale. Then let me wander by the peaceful tide, While o'er the wave the breezes lightly play ; To hear the waters murmur as they glide. To mark the fading smile of closing day. There let me linger, blest in visions dear, Till the soft moonbeams tremble on the seas ; While melting sounds decay on fancy's ear, Of airy music floating on the breeze. For still when evening shfids the genial dews. That pensive hour is sacred to the muse. 101 SONG OF A WOOD NYMPH. In peaceful dells and woodland glades^ In sweet romantic scenes I stray ; And wander thro' the sylvan shades, Where summer breezes lightly play ; There at fervid noon I lave, In the calm pellucid wave. And oft the fairest flowers I bring, To deck my grotto's mossy seat, CuU'd from the margin of the spring, That flows amidst the green retreat ; The violet, and the primrose pale, That smile uncultur'd in the vale. Reclin'd beneath some hoary tree, With tufted moss and ivy drest, I listen to the hummino- bee. Whose plaintive tune invites to rest ; While the fountain calm and clear, Softly murmurs playing near. 102 And oft in solitude I rove, To hear the bird of eve complain ; When seated in the hallow'd grove, She pours her melancholy strain, In soothing ton^s that wake the tear, To sorrow and to fancy dear. I love the placid moonlight hour, The lustre of the shadowy ray ; 'Tis then I seek the dewy bower. And tune the wild expressive lay; While echo from the woods around, Prolongs the softly dying sound. And oft, in some arcadian vale, I touch my harp of mellow note ; Then sweetly rising on the gale, I hear celestial music float ; And dulcet measures faintly close, Till all is silence and repose. Then fays and fairy elves advance, To hear the magic of my song ; And mingle in the sportive dance, And trip with sylphid grace along; While the pensive ray serene. Trembles thro' the foliage green. 103 In peaceful dells and woodland shades, In wild romantic scenes I stray ; And wander thro' the sylvan glades,> With airy footstep light and gay : Yet still my favourite lonely spot, The sweet retirement of the grot. THE SCENES OF CONWAY. On the banks of the Conway with rapture I stray'd, While the sunbeam was bright on the flood ; And charm'd by the prospect around, I survey'd The water, the hills, and the wood. When the curtain of evening was spread o'er the scene. And sweet was the mild summer gale ; I rov'd by the side of the river serene, And saz'd on the fisherman's sail. 'Twas thus that I mus'd, while I wander'd away, Thro' the towers of the castle sublime; Where the boughs of the ivy conceal the decay, Which'is made by the ravage of time: 104 Now the sun is departing witli lingering smile, He sinks in the billows to rest; Plow soft are the colours which glow on the pile, How bright are the clouds of the west. I could fancy that here to the melody sweet, Of the tabor, the pipe, and the song, By moonlight the fairies of Oberon meet, And trip in the dances along. In these mouldering towers by the mild placid beam That silvers the high waving trees. The poet might listen in fanciful dream. To the sighs of the murmuring breeze. 'Tis mournful to view these deserted old halls. Where the harp of the minstrel has rung; Where the banners of chivalry wav'd on the walls. And the bards at the festival sung;. But the turrets o'ermantl'd with ivy around, Shall echo to music no more ; No longer the chords of the harp shall resound. And the carol of gladness is o'er. These walls have been cleck'd with the trophies of state, This building was noble and proud ; But short is the sunbeam of fortune and fate, Like the rainbow which shines in a cloud. 105 'Twas thus that I mus'd while I wander'd away, Thro* the towers of the castle sublime ; Which still are majestic and frown in decay, Array'd in the mantle of time. The woods and the ruins I left with regret, And bade them with sorrow adieu ; But the scenes of fair Conway I ne'er can forget, For memory their charms will renew. LINES, FOR MY MOTHER'S BIRTH-DAY. This day let pleasure smile on everv face. And beam in every eye with sprightly grace ; Let artless joy the flo:jving lay inspire. And sweet affection consecrate the Ivre. And seel all nature smiles around; And hark I the " wood notes wild" resound ; In sunny robe the May appears, The presage fair of golden years. Let Hope with soft propitious ray. Our bosoms fondly cheer ; Ne'er may the sunshine of this day Be clouded with a tear. p 106 LINES, INSCRIBED TO MRS. WYNNE, ON THE BIRTH OF HEH SON AND HEIR. Oh ! let me wake the carol gay, And strike the lyre of pleasure ; For mirth inspires the genuine lay, And animates the measure. Blest Avas the hour, sweet infant boy, That gave thee to maternal arms ; Propitious hope and smiling joy, With rapture view'd thy blooming charms. For thee, sweet babe, the artless muse, A simple wreath composes ; And see, a genial tear bedews Her garland form'd of roses. And oh I in all thy future days. May virtue o'er thy breast preside ; Illume thy mind with sacred rays, And ever be thy heavenly guide. For thee I breathe an artless prayer. To Heaven that prayer addressing. May all thy life be free from care, Enrich'd with every blessing. SONG, THE RETURN OF MAY. Hail I fairy queen, adorn'd with flowers, Attended by the smiling hours, 'Tis thine to dress the rosy bowers In colours gay; We love to wander in thy train. To meet thee on the fertile plain, To bless thy soft propitious reign, Oh 1 lovely May. 108 'Tis thine to dress the vale anew, In fairest verdure bright with dew ; And harebells of the mildest blue, Smile in thy way ; ■ Then let us welcome pleasant spring, And still the flowery tribute bring, And still to thee our carol sing. Oh I lovely May. NoAv by the genial zephyr fann'd; The blossoms of the rose expand ; And rear'd by thee with gentle hand, Their charms display ; The air is balmy and serene, And all the sweet luxuriant scene By thee is clad in tender green. Oh I lovely May. THE FAREWELL. When sad the parting word we hear, That seems of past delights to tell ; Who then, without a sacred tear. Can say farewell 109 And are we ever doom'd to mourn, That e'en our joys may lead to pain ? Alas I the rose without a thorn We seek in vain. When friends endear'd by absence meet, Their hours are crown'd with every treasure; Too soon the happy moments fleet On wings of pleasure. But when the parting hour is nigh, What feeling breast their woes can tell ? With many a prayer and tender sigh They bid farewell. Yet Hope may charm their grief away, And pour her sweet enchanting strain. That friends belov'd — some future day, Shall meet asain. -j^„ Her aid the fair deceiver lends, To dry the tears which sadly fell ; And calm the sorrow which attends The last farewell. 110 PART OF THE 104th psalm, PARAPHRASED. My fervent soul shall bless the Lord, And sing Jehovah's name ador'd. Oh God I how great are all thy ways. Demanding gratitude and praise ; Honour and majesty are thine, And beams of light around thee shine : Thy hand extends the arch on high, The azure curtain of the sky ; The clouds thy regal chariot form ; Thou ridest on the rushing storm ; Amidst the regions of the air, The winds thy car triumphal bear : To thee enraptur'd spirits bend, And angels round thy throne attend ; While lightnings in thy presence beam, The ministers of power supreme. At thy behest the earth appear'd. On firm eternal basis rear'd : The floods arose at thy command, And spread their mantle o'er the land : Ill Thy v.ord rebuk'd the swelling deep ; The waters rush'd from every steep ; The thunders echoed, and they fled, And sought their peaceful destin'd bed ; Jehovah's power restrain'd their force, And limited their whelming course : He bade the lucid fountains flow, Meandering thro' the vales below ; They fertilize the plains and fields, And nature all her treasure yields. Beside their banks with verdure drest. The woodland songsters form their nest ; Amidst the shade of waving trees, They pour the sweetest melodies ; The wild spontaneous hymn they raise, And sing their great Creator's praise. UC SOUTHf o- D 000 265 151 U^IVERSm OF CAUIORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles ^UbooWU DUE on the lasc date stamped below. 01 OCT 1 7 199^ 315 m » \1