Yet wilt thou often deign,

E'en from the height of yon ethereal plain,
To cast a pitying look on earth below:

Oft doth thy breast for human sorrows glow,
Full well thou know'st our weakness to bewail,

And o'er our follies cast thy friendly veil.

Say then, O Charity!

Since such thou art, enthron'd in peerless light,

How we our grov'ling thoughts shall raise

Unto the height of thy divinity,

While we thy radiant beams admire,

Dazzling our mortal sight :

Shall we at awful distance gaze?

Or, rather, with a glorious zeal aspire

To emulate on earth thy gracious ways

Dispense thy light, and hymn thine heavenly praise.

ODE TO PENITENCE.

COME, sacred Partner of the tranquil hour,

Meek Penitence! but come not, as thou'rt feign'd, In the deep gloom of some monastic tow'r,

With terrors cloth'd, and in affliction train'd, Midst pangs, and stripes, and ceaseless tears to dwell; Nor come thou, such as, in the murderer's cell,

His doom announc'd, with horror and despair,

Thou sit'st, and brooding o'er his sleepless head,
Bid'st ghastly phantoms rise:

Nor as in din of war,

If e'er thy voice may reach the victor's ears,

Midst shrieks, and dying groans, and orphans' cries,

Thine haggard form appears,

And nightly shakes the bold oppressor's bed:

But come, thou holy Maid,

Come, in thy softest, mildest grace array'd!

Teach

Teach me to know my secret soul, to drive

Each latent evil from my chasten'd heart, The kindling sparks of virtue to revive,

And rescue truth from self-deceiving art.
While yet of life some fleeting space remains,
Come thou, my Guide, and lead the peaceful way,
While active health still beats within my veins,

And sweet contentment gilds my smiling day;
Come, ere beneath the weight of age I bow,
Or pale disease o'ercasts my faded brow-

For pain my weaker reason might control,

The dread of death with thee my thoughts might share,

Vain cares of life might rush upon my soul,

My sorrowing Friends might claim the parting tear!

Ah, not too late thine healing aid dispense,

Thou lovely sister of pure Innocence !

Tho' she, thine elder, in the realms of light

Shine with unsullied beauties bright,

Yet

Yet thou by spotless Innocence shalt stand;
To thee the same mild lustre shall be given,
Thou, not the least of yon Celestial band,

Thou too, tho' earth-born, art allied to Heaven. Thee at Heav'n's gate fair Mercy shall receive, And lead thee trembling to th' Eternal Throne; Justice to thee her wonted place shall give;

To

And Virtue, yielding her immortal crown

grace thy brow, shall blend her radiant charms With thine, and fold thee in her kindred arms!

FINIS.

London: Printed by Luke Hansard & Sons,
near Lincoln's-Inn Fields.