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Well rewarded, if I spy
Pleasure in thy glancing eye;
See thee, when thou'st eat thy fill, .
Plume thy breast and wipe thy bill.
Conie, my feather'd friend, again!
Well thou know'st the broken pane;
Ask of me thy daily store;
Ever welcome to my



To a child five years old. a: FAIREST flower all flowers excelling,

Which in Milton's page we see :
Flowers of Eve's embower'd dwelling,

Are, my fair one, types of thee.
Mark, my Polly, how the roses

Emulate thy damask cheek;
How the bud its sweets discloses-

Buds thy op’ning bloom bespeak.
Lilies are by plain direction

Emblems of a double kind;
Emblems of thy fair complexion,

Emblems of thy fairer mind.
But, dear girl, both flowers and beauty

Blossom, fade, and die away:
Then pursue good sense and duty,

Evergreens, which ne'er decay.




The Rose.
How fair is the rose ! what a beautiful flow'r!

In summer so fragrant and gay!
But the leaves are beginning to fade in an hour,

.And they wither and die in a day. 2 Yet the rose has one powerful virtue to boast,

·Above all the flowers of the field : When its leaves are all dead, and fine colours lost

Still how sweet a perfume it will yield'


3. So frail is the youth and the beauty of men,

Though they bloom and look gay like the rose :
For all our fond care to preserve them is vain

Time kills them as fast as he goes. 4. Then I'll not be proud of my youth or my beauty,

Since both of them wither and fade :
But gain a good name by performing my duty
This will scent like a rose, when I'm dead.



The Ant.
1. THESE emmets, how little they are in our eyes !
We tread them to dust, and a troop of them diés,

Without our regard or concern:
Yet as wise as we are, if we went to their school,
There's many a sluggard, and many a fool,

Some lessons of wisdom might learn.
2. They don't wear their time out in sleeping or play,
But gather in a sun-shiny day,

And for winter they lay up their stores : They manage their work in such regular forms, One would think they foresaw all the frosts and the


And so brought their food within doors.
3. But I have less sense than a poor creeping antgy
If I take not due care for the things I shall want;

Nor provide against dangers in time.
When death or old age shall stare in my face,
What a wretch shall I be in the end of my days,

If I trifle away all their prime ! 4. Now, now, while my strength and my youth are in bloom, Let me think what will serve me when sickness shall come,


sins be forgivn: Let me read in good books, and believe and obey;? That, when death turns me out of this cottage of clay,


dwell in a palace in Heav'n...

And pray



A murning hymn. 1. My God, who makes the sun to know

His proper hour to rise, And to give light to all below,

Does send him round the skies

2. When from the chambers of the east

His morning race begins,

never tires, nor stops to rest;

But round the world he shines. 3. So, like the sun, would I fulfil

The bus'ness of the day:
Begin my work betimes, and still

March on my heav'nly way.
4. Give me, O Lord, thy early grace;

Nor let my soạl complain,
That the young morning of my days

Has all been spent in vain.



An evening hymn. 1. And now another day is gone,

I'll sing my Maker's praise :
My comforts ev'ry hour make known

His providence and grace.
2. But how my childhood runs to waste !

My sins, how great their sum!
Lord! give me pardon for the past,

And strength for days to come. 8. I lay my b.dy down to sleep;

Let angels guard my head,
And through the hours of darkness keep

Their watch around my bed.
4. With cheerful heart I close my eyes,

Since God will not remove;
And in the morning let me rise,



The winter's day. 1. WHEN raging storms deform the air,

And clouds of snow descend; And the wide landscape, bright and fair,

No deepen'd colours blend; 2. When biting frost rides on the wind,

Bleak from the north and east, And wealth is at its ease reclin'd,

Prepard to laugh and feast'; :. When the poor trav’ller treads the plain,

All dubious of his way.
And crawls with night-increasing painy

And dreads the parting day ; 4. When poverty in vile attire,

Shrinks from the biting blast, Or hovers o'er the pigmy fire,

And fears it will not last; 8. When the fond mother hugs her child

Still closer to her breast;
And the poor infant, frost-beguild,

Scarce feels that it is prest;
0. Then let your bounteous hand extend

Its blessings to the poor;
Nor spurn the wretched, while they bend
All suppliant at your door.


Compassion and forgiveness. 1. I HEAR the voice of wo;

A brother mortal mourns :
My eyes with tears, for tears o'erflow;

My heart his sighs returns. 2. I hear the thirsty cry;

The famish'd beg for brend:
O let my spring its streams supply:

My hand its bounty shedo

3. And shall not wrath relent,

Touch'd by that humble strain, My brother crying, "I repent,

Nor will offend again ?"
4. How else, on sprightly wing,

Can hope bear high ny pray'r,
Up to thy throne, my God, my King,

To plead for pardon there?



The ignorance of man. 1. BEHold yon new-born infant griev'd

With hunger, thirst, and pain; That asks to have the wants reliev'd

It knows not to complain.
2. Aloud the speechless suppliant crien,

And utters, as it can,
The woes that in its bosom rise,

And speak its nature-inan.
3. That infant, whose advancing hour

Life's various sorrows try, (Sad proof of sin's transmissive pow'r ?)

That infant, Lord, am I. 4. A childhood yet my thoughts confess,

Though long in years mature ; Unknowing whence I feel distress,

And where, or what, its cure. 6. Author of good! to thee I turn ;

Thy ever-wakeful eye
Alone can all my wants discern;

Thy hand alone supply.
6. O let thy fear within me dwell

Thy love my footsteps guide :
That love shall all vain loves expel;

That fear all fears beside.
7. And oh! by error's force subdu'd,

Since oft my stubborn will
Prepostrous shuns the latent goods

And grasps the specious ill

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