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5. Small slights, contempt. neglect, unmix'd with hate,
Make up in number what they want in weignt:
These, and a thousand griefs, minute as these,
Corrode our comforts, and destroy our peace. MORE



1. HALL, artless Simplicity, beautiful maid,
In the genuine attractions of nature array'd:
Let the rich and the proud, and the gay and the vain,
Still laugh at the graces that move in thy train.
2. No charm in thy modest allurements they find;
The pleasures they follow a sting leave behind.
Can criminal passion enrapture the breast,
Like virtue, with peace and serenity blest?

3. O would you Simplicity's precepts attend,
Like us, with delight at her altar you'd bend;
The pleasures she yields would with joy be embrac'd
You'd practice from virtue, and love them from taste.

4. The linnet enchants us the bushes among :
Tho' cheap the musician, yet sweet is the song;
We catch the soft warbling in air as it floats,
And with ecstacy hang on the ravishing notes.
5. Our water is drawn from the clearest of springs,
And our food, nor disease nor satiety brings:

Our mornings are cheerful, our labours are blest,
Our ev'nings are pleasant, our nights crown'd with rest
6. From our culture yon garden its ornament finds;
And we catch at the hint of improving our minds :
To live to some purpose we constantly try;
And we mark by our actions the days as they fly.

. Since such are the joys that simplicity yields,
We may well be content with our woods and our fields
How useless to us then, ye great, were your wealth,
When without it we purchase both pleasure and health



Care and Generosity.

1. OLD Care, with industry and art, At length so well had play'd his part, He heap'd up such an ample store, That av'rice could not sigh for more. 2. Ten thousand flocks his shepherd told, His coffers overflow'd with gold;

The land all round him was his own, With corn his crowded gran'ries groan. 3. In short, so vast his charge and gain, That to possess them was a pain : With happiness oppress'd he lies, And much too prudent to be wise. 4. Near him there liv'd a beauteous maid, With all the charms of youth array'd; Good, amiable, sincere, and free; Her name was Generosity.

5. 'Twas her's the largess to bestow On rich and poor, on friend and foe. Her doors to all were open'd wide; The pilgrim there might safe abide. 6. For th' hungry and the thirsty crew, The bread she broke, the drink she drew There sickness laid her aching head, And there distress could find a bed. 7. Each hour, with an all-bounteous hand, Diffus'd the blessings round the land. Her gifts and glory lasted long,

And num'rous was th' accepting throng. 8. At length pale penury seiz'd the dame, And fortune fled, and ruin came;

She found her riches at an end, And that she had not made one friend. 9. All blam'd her for not giving more, Nor thought on what she'd done before. She wept, she rav'd, she tore her hair, When io! to comfort her, came Care; 10. And cried, "My dear, if you will join Your hand in nuptial bonds with mine,

All will be well-you shall have store,
And I be plagu'd with wealth no more.
11. Tho' I restrain your bounteous heart,
You shall act the gen'rous part.”—
The bridal came, great was the feast,
And good the pudding and the priest.
12. The bride in nine moons brought him forth
A little maid of matchless worth:

Her face was mix'd with care and glee;
And she was nam'd Economy.

18. They styl'd her fair discretion's queen,
The mistress of the golden mean.
Now Generosity confin'd,
Perfectly easy in her mind,

Still loves to give, yet knows to spare,
Nor wishes to be free from Care.


The Slave

1. WIDE over the tremulous sea,

The moon spread her mantle of light;
And the gale, gently dying away,
Breath'd soft on the bosom of night.

2. On the forecastle Maratan stood,
And pour'd forth his sorrowful tale;
His tears fell unseen in the flood';
His sighs pass'd unheard in the gale.
3. "Ah, wretch!" in wild anguish, he cried,
"From country and liberty torn!
Ah, Maratan, would thou hadst died,

Ere o'er the salt waves thou wert borne !

4. Thro' the groves of Angola I stray'd,

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Love and hope made my bosom their home; There I talk'd with my favourite maid,

Nor dreamt of the sorrow to come.

5. From the thicket the man-hunter sprung;
My cries echoed loud through the air:
There were fury and wrath on his tongue
He was deaf to the voice of despair.


5. Flow, ye tears, down my cheeks ever flow; Still let sleep from my eye-lids depart; And still may the sorrows of wo,

Drink deep of the stream of my heart.
6. But hark! o'er the silence of night
My Adila's accents I hear;

And mournful beneath the wan light,
I see her lov'd image appear.

7. Slow o'er the smooth ocean she glides,
As the mist that hangs light on the wave;
And fondly her partner she chides,


Who lingers so long from his grave.

8 Oh, Maratan! haste thee,' she cries, Here the reign of oppression is o'er; The tyrant is robb'd of his prize,

And Adila sorrows no more.'

9. Now sinking amidst the dim ray,
Her form seems to fade on my view:
O! stay thee, my Adila stay !—

She beckons, and I must pursue.
10. To-morrow the white man, in vain,
Shall proudly account me his slave:
My shackles I plunge in the main,
And rush to the realms of the brave !*"


The Swallows.

1. ERE yellow autumn from our plains retir'd,
And gave to wint'ry storms the varied year, *
The swallow race, with foresight clear inspir'd,
To southern climes prepar'd their course to steer.
2. On Damon's roof a grave assembly sat,
His roof, a refuge to the feather'd kind :
With serious look he mark'd the nice debate,
And to his Delia thus address'd his mind.

*It may not be improper to remind the young reader, that the anguish of the unhappy negroes, on being separated for ever from their country and dearest connexions, with the dreadful prospect of perpetual slavery, frequently becomes so exqui site, as to produce derangement of mind, and suicide.

3. “Observe yon twitt'ring flock, my gentle maid ;
Observe, and read the wondrous ways of Heav'n !
With us, thro' summer's genial reign they stay'd,
And food and lodgings to their wants were giv'n.
4. But now, thro' sacred prescience, well they know,
The near approach of elemental strife ;

The blust'ring tempest and the chilly snow,
With ev'ry want and scourge of tender life.

5. Thus taught, they meditate a speedy flight;
For this, e'en now they prune their vig'rous wing;
For this, consult, advise, prepare, excite;
And prove their strength in many an airy ring.

6. They feel a pow'r, an impulse all divine!
That warns them hence; they feel it and obey:
To this direction all their cares resign,

Unknown their destin'd stage, unmark'd their way.
7. And does no pow'r its friendly aid dispense,
Nor give us tidings of some happier clime?
Find we no guide in gracious providence,
Beyond the stroke of death, the verge of time?
8. Yes, yes, the sacred oracles we hear,

That point the path to realms of endless day;
That bid our hearts nor death, nor anguish fear:
This, future transport; that, to life the way.
9. Then let us timely for our flight prepare,
And form the soul for her divine abode;
Obey the call, and trust the leader's care,
To bring us safe, through virtue's paths to God.
10. Let no fond love for earth exact a sigh;
No doubts divert our steady steps aside;
Nor let us long to live, nor dread to die:
Heav'n is our hope, and Providence our guide.”



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