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Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride,
And ev’n his failings lean’d to VIRTUE's fide ;
But in his duty prompt at every call,
He watch'd and wept, he pray'd and felt for all.
And, as a bird each fond endearment tries,
To tempt its new-fledg'd offspring to the skies,
He try'd each art, reprov'd each dull delay,
Allur'd to brighter worlds, and led the way.

Beside the bed where parting life was laid,
And sorrow, guilt, and pain by turns dismay’d,
The rev'rend champion stood. At his controul
Despair and anguish fled the firuggling foul;
Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raise,
And his lafi fault'ring accents whilper'd praise.

At church, with meek and unaffected grace, His looks adorn’d the venerable place; Truth from his lips prevail'd with double sway, And fools, who came to scoff, remain’d to pray. The service past, around the pious man, With ready zeal, each honeft rufiic ran; Ev’n children follow'd with endearing wile, And pluck'd his gown, to share the good man's smile, His ready smile a parent's warmth expreft, Their welfare pleas’d him, and their cares diftreft; To them his heart, his love, his griefs were giv’n, But all his serious thoughts had rest in Heaven. As fome tall clit that liits its awful form, Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm, Though round its breati the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head.



THE vital vigor of the human frame,

Meits down in death, in women and in wine ; Or life and death the sources are the same,

in these they rise, and in the same decline.


THE BEAUTY which the gods befiow,

Did they but give it for a show?
No--'twas lent thee from above,
To Mhed its lustre o'er thy face,
And with its pure and native grace

To charm the soul to LOVE.
The flaunting fun, whose western beams,
This evening drink of ocean's streams,

To-morrow springs to light;
But when thy Beauty sets, my fair,
No morrow shall its beam repair,

'Tis all eternal night.
See too, my love, the virgin rose,
How sweet, how bashfully it blows

Beneath the vernal skies!
How soon it blooms in full display,
Its bofom opening to the day,

Then withers, lhrinks, and dies.
Of mortal life's declining hour,
Such is the leaf, the bud, the flow'r;

Then crop the rose in time.
Be blest and bless, and kind impart
The just return of heart for heart,

Ere love becomes a crime.
To pleasure then, my charmer, haftes
And ere thy youth begins to waste,

Ere BEAUTY dims its ray,
The proffer'd gift of love employ,
Improve each moment into joy,

Be happy whilst you may.


THY fpirit, INDEPENDENCE, let me share,

Lord of the lion-heart and eagle-eye, Thy steps I follow with my bosom bare,

Nor heed the storm that howls along the sky. Deep in the frozen regions of the north, A goddess violated brought thee forth, Immortal LIBERTY, whose looks sublime Hath bleach'd the tyrant's cheek in every varying

clime. What time the iron-hearted Gaul

With frantic fuperftition for his guide, Arm’d with the dagger and the pall,

The sons of Woden to the field defy’d: The ruthless hag, by Weser's flood,

In heaven's name urg'd the infernal blow;

And red the stream began to flow :
The vanquish'd were baptiz'd with blood!
The Saxon prince in horror fled

From altars stain'd with human gore ;
And LIBERTY his routed legions led

In safety to the bleak Norwegian fhore. There in a cave a-leep The lay,

Lulled by the hoarse-refounding main; When a bold savage past that way,

Impell’d by destiny, his name DISDAIN. Of ample front the portly chief appear’d:

The hunted bear supply'd a shaggy vest; The drifted snow hung on his yellow beard ;

And his broad shoulders brav'd the furious blaft. He stopt :-He gaz'd;—his bofom glow'd,

And deeply felt the impression of her charms : He reiz'd the advantage fate allow'd :

And straight compress'd her in his vigorous The curlew scream'd, the tritons blew


Their shells to celebrate the ravith'd rite;
Old Time exulted as he flew;
And INDEPENDENCE saw the light.
The light he saw in Albion's happy plains,

Where under cover of a flowering thorn, While Philomel renew'd her warbled firains, The auspicious fruit of stol'n embrace was born The mountain dryads seized with joy,

The smiling intant to their charge consign'd; The Doric muse caress’d the favourite bov;

The hermit WISDOM ftor’d his opening minda As rolling years matured his age,

He flourish'd bold and finewy as his fire;
While the mild passions in his breast assuage

The fiercer flames of his maternal fire.
Accomplished thus, he winged his way,

And zealous roved from pole to pole,
The rolls of right eternal to display,
And warm with patriot thoughts the aspiring

foul, On defert isles 'twas he that rais'd

Those spires that gild the Adriatic wave, Where tyranny beheld, amaz’d, Fair FREEDOM's temple, where he mark'd her

grave. He steel'd the blunt Batavian's arms

To burst the Iberian's double chain; And cities rear’d, and planted farms,

Won from the skirts of Neptune's wide domain. He, with the generous ruftics, sate,

On Uri's rocks in close divan; . And winged that arrow, sure as fate,

Which ascertain’d the sacred RIGHTS OF MAN. Arabia's scorching fands he cross’d,

Where blasted nature pants supine,
Conductor of her tribes a-duft,
TO FREEDOM's adamantine shrine;


And many a Tartar horde forlorn, aghaft!

He snaich'd from under fell opprellion's wing;. And taught, amidit the dreary waste,

The all-cheering hymns of LIBERTY to fing. He VIRTUE finds, like precious ore,

Diffus'd through every baser mould, Even now he stands on Calvi's rocky shore,

And turns the dross of Corsica to gold; He, guardian genius, taught my youth

Pomp's tintel livery to defpite : My lips by him chattised to TRUTH,

Ne'er paid that homage which my heart denies. Those sculptur'd halls my feet shall never tread,

Where varninh'd vice and VANITY combin'd, To dazzle and feduce, their banners spread;

And forge vile shackles for the free-born mind. While INSOLENCE his wrinkled front uprears,

And all the flowers of spurious fancy blow; Aud TITLE his ill-woven chaplet wears, Full often wreathed around the miscreant's

brow; Where ever-dimpling FALSEHOOD, pert and

vain, Presents her cup of state profession's froth; And pale DISEASE, with all his bloated train,

Torments the fons of GLUTTONY and SLOTH. In furtune's car, behold that minion ride, With either India's glittering spoils opprest

, So moves the sumpter-mule, in harness'd pride,

That bears the treasure which he cannot tafie. For him let venal bards disgrace the bay,

And hireling minfirels wake the tinkling firing; Her fenfual snares let faithlets pleasure lay;

And jingling heils fantastic folly ring;
Disquiet, doubt, and dread shall intervene;

And nature, ftill to all her feelings just,
In vengeance hang a damp on every scene,

Shook from the baleful pinions of disgust.

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