Virtue altogether lovely.
Virtue is amiable, mild, serene :
Without, all beauty; and all peace within.
The faults of our neighbours with freedom we blame, But tax not ourselves though we practise the same.
Candour and forgiveness.
How noble 'tis to own a fault! How gen'rous and divine to forgive it!
Troubles from ourselves. 'Tis to ourselves, indeed, we chiefly owe The multitude of poignant griefs we feel.
Nor love thy life, nor hate; but what thou liv'st
Live well; how long or short, permit to Heav'n
THE man of pure and simple heart,
Through life disdains a double part.
He never needs the screen of lies,
His inward bosom to disguise.
Best use of riches.
When wealth to virtuous hands is giv'n,
It blesses like the dews of Heav'n:
Like Heav'n it hears the orphan's cries
And wipes the tears from widows' eyes
Choice of friends.
Who friendship with a knave has made
Is judg'd a partner in the trade.
'Tis thus, that on the choice of friends
Our good or evil name depends.
Christian morality.
'Tis our part,
As Christians, to forget the wrongs we feel
To pardon trespasses; our very foes
To love and cherish; to do good to all;
Live peaceably; and be, in all our acts,
Wise as the serpent, gentle as the dove.
Hope in affliction.
-Shall we pine,
And be dishearten'd with a day of grief,
When the same hand which brought affliction on, Retains its pow'r, and can, with equal ease,
I sigh not for beauty, nor languish for wealth;
But grant me, kind Providence! virtue and health:
Then, richer than kings, and more happy than they,
My days shall pass sweetly and swiftly away.
Censoriousness reproved.
In other men we faults can spy,
And blame the mote that dims their
Each little speck and blemish find,
To our own stronger errors blind.—
Ere we remark another's sin,
Let our own conscience look within.
Ungovern'd wrath, and fell resentment fly:
They rend the soul, as tempests rend the sky.
Shun peevish humours: they corrode the breast,
And cloud the brow; are childish at the best.
Learn to control your tongue, that restless thing!
Of mischief oft and shame the fatal spring.
Inscription on a sun-dial.
Maik well my shade, and seriously attend
The silent lesson of a common friend :-
Since time and life speed hastily away,
And no one can recall the former day,
Improve each fleeting hour before 'tis past;
And know, each fleeting hour may be thy last.
Source of true happiness.
THE happiness of human kind
Consists in rectitude of mind,
A will subdu'd to reason's sway,
And passions practis'd to obey;
An open and a gen'rous heart,
Refin❜d from selfishness and art;
Patience which mocks at fortune's pow'r,
And wisdom neither sad nor sour.
Love to God produces love to men.
Let gratitude in acts of goodness flow;
Our love to God, in love to man below.
Be this our joy—to calm the troubled breast,
Support the weak, and succour the distrest;
Direct the wand'rer, dry the widow's tear;
The orphan guard, the sinking spirits cheer.
Tho' small our pow'r to act, tho' mean our skil,
God sees the heart; he judges by the will.
Men mutually helpful.
Nature expects mankind should share
The duties of the public care.
Who's born for sloth? To some we find
The ploughshare's annual toil assign'd.
Some at the sounding anvil glow;
Some the swift-sliding shuttle throw:
Some, studious of the wind and tide,
From pole to pole, our commerce guide:
While some, with genius more refin'd,
With head and tongue assist mankind.
Thus, aiming at one common end,
Each proves to all a needful friend.
To bless, is to be blest.
When young, what honest triumph flush'd my breast,
This truth once known,-To bless, is to be blest. !
I led the bending beggar on his way;
(Bare were his feet, his tresses silver-gray;)
Sooth'd the keen pangs his aged spirit felt,
And on his tale with mute attention dwelt.
As in his scrip I dropp'd my little store,
And wept to think that little was no more,
He breath'd his pray'r,-" Long may such goodness live!" 'Twas all he gave, 'twas all he had to give.
Epitaph on a young woman.
In dawn of life she wisely sought her God;
And the straight path of thorny virtue trod.
Fond to oblige, too gentle to offend;
Belov'd by all, to all the good a friend :
The bad she censur'd by her life alone;
Blind to their faults, severe upon her own:
In others' griefs a tender part she bore;
And with the needy shar'd her little store:
At distance view'd the world with pious dread;
And to God's temple for protection fled :
There sought that peace which Heav'n alone can give ;
And learn'd to die ere others learn to live.
The looking-glass; or, ill-humour corrected.
1 THERE was a little stubborn dame,
Whom no authority could tame:
Restive by long indulgence grown,
No will she minded but her own:
At trifles oft she'd scold and fret;
Then in a corner take a seat,
And sourly moping all the day,
Disdain alike to work or play.
2. Papa all softer arts had tried
And sharper remedies applied,
But both were vain; for ev'ry course
He took still made her worse and worse.
3. Mamma observ'd the rising lass,
By stealth retiring to the glass,
To practise little airs unseen,
In the true genius of thirteen:
On this a deep design she laid,
To tame the humour of the maid d;
Contriving, like a prudent mother,
To make one folly cure another.
4. Upon the wall against the seat
Which Jessy us'd for her retreat,
Whene'er by accident offended,
A looking-glass was straight suspended,
That it might show her how deform'd
She look'd, and frightful, when she storm'd;
And warn her, as she priz'd her beauty,
To bend her humour to her duty.
5. All this the looking-glass achiev'd:
Its threats were minded, and believ'd.
The maid, who spurn'd at all advice,
Grew tame and gentle in a trice:
So when all other means had fail'd,
The silent monitor prevail'd.
The Butterfly and the Snail; or, elevation renders little minds proud and insolent.
1. ALL upstarts insolent in place,
Remind us of their vulgar race.
As in the sunshine of the morn,
A Butterfly (but newly born)
Sat proudly perking on a rose;
With pert conceit his bosom glows:
His wings (all glorious to behold)
Bedropt with azure, jet, and gold,
Wide he displays; the spangled dew
Reflects his eyes, and various hue.
2. His now forgotten friend, a Snail,
Beneath his house, with slimy trail,
Crawls o'er the grass; whom when he spies,
In wrath he to the gard❜ner cries:
"What means yon peasant's daily toil,
From choking weeds to rid the soil?
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