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5. Small slights, contempt. neglect, unmix'd with hate,
Make up in number what they want in weignt :
Corrode our comforts, and destroy our peace.
In the genuine attractions of nature array'd :
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.
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;
You'd practice from virtue, and love them from tasta. 4. The linnet enchants us the bushes among :
Tho' cheap the musician, yet sweet is the song;
And with ecstacy hang on the ravishing notes.
And our food, nor disease nor satiety brings :
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 :
And we mark by our actions the days as they fly.
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 party
That av'rice could not sigh for more.
His coffers overflow'd with gold ;
With corn his crowded gran’ries groan 3. In short, so vast his charge and gain,
That to possess them was a pain :
And much too prudent to be wise.
With all the charms of youth array'd;
Her name was Generosity.
On rich and poor, on friend and foe.
The pilgrim there might safe abide. 6. For thị hungry and the thirsty crew,
The bread she broke, the drink she drew'
And there distress could find a bed. 7. Each hour, with an all-bounteous hand,
Diffus'd the blessings round the land.
And num'rous was th' accepting throng. 8. At length pale penury seiz'd the dame,
And fortune fled, and ruin came;
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.
When io! to comfort her, came Care; 10. And cried, “ My dear, if you
will joiu 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.”-
And good the pudding and the priest.
A little maid of matchless worth :
And she was nam’d Economy.
The mistress of the golden mean.
The Slave 1. WWE over the tremulous sea,
The moon spread her mantie 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,
Ére o'er the salt waves thou wert borne ! 4. Thro' the groves of Angola I stray'd,
Love and hope made my bosoin their home; There I talk'd with my favourite maid,
Nor dreamt of the sorrow to come. 6. 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 despais
5. Flow, ye tears, down my cheeks ever flow;
• Still let sleep from my eye-lids depart;
Drink deep of the stream of my heart. 6. But hark! o'er the silence of night
My Adila's accents I hear;
I see her lov'd image appear.
mist that hangs light on the wavez 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 ;
And Adila sorrows no more.'
Her form seems to fade on my view:
She beckons,--and I must pursue. 10. To-morrow the white man, in vain,
Shall proudly account me his slave :
And rush to the realms of the brave
And gave to wintry storms the varied year,
To southern climes prepar'd their course to steer. 2., On Damon's roof a grave assembly sat,
His roof, a refuge to the featherd kind:
* 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.
4. But now,
B. “ Observe yon twitt'ring flock, my gentle maid ;
Observe, and read the wondrous ways of Hear'a !
thro'sacred prescience, well they know,
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 vigʻrous wing;
their strength in many arı airy ring. 6. They feel a pow'r, an impulse all divine !
That warns them hence; they feel it and obey:
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?
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;
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;
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 ;