ARGUMENT.

Poet's Address to the State and Church of England-The Pastor not inferior to the ancient Worthies of the Church-He begins his Narratives with an instance of unrequited Love-Anguish of mind subdued, and how-The lonely Miner-An instance of perseveranceWhich leads by contrast to an example of abused talents, irresolu tion, and weakness-Solitary, applying this covertly to his own case, asks for an instance of some Stranger, whose dispositions may have led him to end his days here-Pastor, in answer, gives an account of the harmonising influence of Solitude upon two men of opposite principles, who had encountered agitations in public life-The rule by which Peace may be obtained expressed, and where-Solitary hints at an overpowering Fatality-Answer of the Pastor-What subjects he will exclude from his Narratives-Conversation upon this-Instance of an unamiable character, a Female, and why given-Contrasted with this, a meek sufferer, from unguarded and betrayed loveInstance of heavier guilt, and its consequences to the OffenderWith this instance of a Marriage Contract broken is contrasted one of a Widower, evidencing his faithful affection towards his deceased wife by his care of their female Children.

HAIL to the crown by Freedom shaped-to gird
An English Sovereign's brow! and to the throne
Whereon he sits! Whose deep foundations lie
In veneration and the people's love;
Whose steps are equity, whose seat is law.
-Hail to the State of England! And conjoin
With this a salutation as devout,
Made to the spiritual fabric of her Church;
Founded in truth; by blood of Martyrdom
Cemented; by the hands of Wisdom reared
In beauty of holiness, with ordered pomp,

Decent and unreproved. The voice, that greets
The majesty of both, shall pray for both;
That, mutually protected and sustained,
They may endure long as the sea surrounds
This favoured Land, or sunshine warms her soil.

And O, ye swelling hills, and spacious plains! Besprent from shore to shore with steeple-towers, And spires whose 'silent finger points to heaven;" Nor wanting, at wide intervals, the bulk Of ancient minster lifted above the cloud Of the dense air, which town or city breeds To intercept the sun's glad beams—may ne'er That true succession fail of English hearts, Who, with ancestral feeling, can perceive What in those holy structures ye possess Of ornamental interest, and the charm Of pious sentiment diffused afar, And human charity, and social love. -Thus never shall the indignities of time Approach their reverend graces, unopposed; Nor shall the elements be free to hurt Their fair proportions; nor the blinder rage Of bigot zeal madly to overturn; And, if the desolating hand of war Spare them, they shall continue to bestow, Upon the thronged abodes of busy men (Depraved, and ever prone to fill the mind Exclusively with transitory things) An air and mien of dignified pursuit ; Of sweet civility, on rustic wilds.

The Poet, fostering for his native land

Such hope, entreats that servants may abound
Of those pure altars worthy; ministers
Detached from pleasure, to the love of gain
Superior, insusceptible of pride,

And by ambitious longings undisturbed;
Men, whose delight is where their duty leads
Or fixes them; whose least distinguished day
Shines with some portion of that heavenly lustre
Which makes the sabbath lovely in the sight
Of blessed angels, pitying human cares.
-And, as on earth it is the doom of truth
To be perpetually attacked by foes
Open or covert, be that priesthood still,
For her defence, replenished with a band
Of strenuous champions, in scholastic arts
Thoroughly disciplined; nor (if in course
Of the revolving world's disturbances
Cause should recur, which righteous Heaven avert!
To meet such trial) from their spiritual sires
Degenerate; who, constrained to wield the sword
Of disputation, shrunk not, though assailed
With hostile din, and combating in sight
Of angry umpires, partial and unjust;
And did, thereafter, bathe their hands in fire,
So to declare the conscience satisfied:

Nor for their bodies would accept release;

But, blessing God and praising him, bequeathed
With their last breath, from out the smouldering flame,
The faith which they by diligence had earned,
Or, through illuminating grace, received,
For their dear countrymen, and all mankind.
O high example, constancy divine!

Even such a Man (inheriting the zeal And from the sanctity of elder times Not deviating,-a priest, the like of whom If multiplied, and in their stations set, Would o'er the bosom of a joyful land Spread true religion and her genuine fruits) Before me stood that day; on holy ground Fraught with the relics of mortality, Exalting tender themes, by just degrees To lofty raised; and to the highest, last; The head and mighty paramount of truths,— Immortal life, in never-fading worlds, For mortal creatures, conquered and secured.

That basis laid, those principles of faith
Announced, as a preparatory act
Of reverence done to the spirit of the place,
The Pastor cast his eyes upon the ground;
Not, as before, like one oppressed with awe
But with a mild and social cheerfulness ;
Then to the Solitary turned, and spake.

in your retired domain,

"At morn or eve, Perchance you not unfrequently have marked A Visitor-in quest of herbs and flowers; Too delicate employ, as would appear, For one, who, though of drooping mien, had yet From nature's kindliness received a frame Robust as ever rural labour bred."

The Solitary answered: "Such a Form Full well I recollect. We often crossed Each other's path; but, as the Intruder seemed

Fondly to prize the silence which he kept,
And I as willingly did cherish mine,

We met, and passed, like shadows. I have heard,
From my good Host, that being crazed in brain
By unrequited love, he scaled the rocks,
Dived into caves, and pierced the matted woods,
In hope to find some virtuous herb of power
To cure his malady!"

The Vicar smiled,"Alas! before to-morrow's sun goes down His habitation will be here: for him

That open grave is destined."

"Died he then Of pain and grief?" the Solitary asked, "Do not believe it; never could that be!"

"He loved," the Vicar answered, "deeply loved,
Loved fondly, truly, fervently; and dared
At length to tell his love, but sued in vain;
Rejected, yea repelled; and, if with scorn
Upon the haughty maiden's brow, 'tis but
A high-prized plume which female Beauty wears
In wantonness of conquest, or puts on

To cheat the world, or from herself to hide
Humiliation, when no longer free.

That he could brook, and glory in ;-but when
The tidings came that she whom he had wooed
Was wedded to another, and his heart
Was forced to rend away its only hope;

Then, Pity could have scarcely found on earth
An object worthier of regard than he,
In the transition of that bitter hour!
Lost was she, lost; nor could the Sufferer say