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Let rich and poor, on whom are now
Such bounteous crops bestow'd, Raise many a pure and holy vow
Of gratitude to God!
For bread so kindly given;
To give the bread of heaven.
Of all our prayers the guide, We ask that * Hallow'd be his name,”
And then our wants supplied.
Next, that we may be fed ;
our daily bread.”
IN A BEAUTIFUL RETREAT, CALLED FAIRY BOWER.
AIRY spirits, you who love
love a noontide shade,
Where the largest acorn lies,
the prize! Come, and watch the hallow'd bow'r, Chase the insect from the flow'r ; Little offices like these, Gentle souls and fairies please.
Mortals ! form' of grosser clay, From our haunts keep far away; Or, if you should dare appear, See that you from vice are clear. Folly's minion, fashion's fool, Mad ambition's restless tool ! Slave of passion, slave of pow'r, Fly, ah, fly! this tranquil bow'r ! Son of av'rice, soul of frost, Wretch ! of heav'n abhorr'd the most, Learn to pity others' wants, Or avoid these hallow'd haunts.
Eye unconscious of a tear,