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Friend, says the wolf, the matter weigh:
Nature design'd us beasts of prey;
As such, when hunger finds a treat,
'Tis necessary wolves should eat.
If, mindful of the bleating weal,
Thy bosom burn with real zeal.
Hence, and thy tyrant lord beseech;
To him repeat the moving speech.
A wolf eats sheep but now and then;
Ten thousands are devour'd by men!
An open foe may prove a curse,
But a pretended friend is worse.

The Butterfly and the Snail.

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.
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 gardener cries:
What means yon peasant's daily toil,
From choking weeds to rid the soil?
Why wake you to the morning's care?
Why with new arts correct the year?
Why glows the peach with crimson hue?
And why the plum's inviting blue?
Were they to feast his taste design'd,
That vermin of voracious kind?

GAY.

Crush then the slow, the pilfering race,
So purge thy garden from disgrace.
What arrogance! the snail reply'd;
How insolent is upstart pride!
Hadst thou not thus, with insult vain,
Provok'd my patience to complain;
I had conceal'd thy meaner birth,
Nor trac'd thee to the scum of earth.
For scarce nine suns have wak'd the hours,
To swell the fruit, and paint the flow'rs,
Since I thy humbler life survey'd,
In base and sordid guise array'd;
A hideous insect, vile, unclean,
You dragg'd a slow and noisome train,
And from your spider bowels drew
Foul film, and spun the dirty clue.
I own my humble life, good friend:
Snail was I born, and snail shall end.
And what's a butterfly? At best,
He's but a caterpillar drest;
And all thy race (a numerous seed)
Shall prove of caterpillar breed.

Providence.

THE Lord my pasture shall prepare,
And feed me with a shepherd's care!
His presence shall my wants supply
And guard me with a watchful eye;
My noon-day walks He shall attend,
And all my midnight hours defend.
When in the sultry glebe I faint,
Or on the thirsty mountains pant,
To fertile vales and dewy meads,
My weary wand'ring steps He leads,
Where peaceful rivers, soft and slow,
Amid the verdant landscape flow.

GAY.

1

Though in the paths of death I tread
With gloomy horrors overspread,
My steadfast heart shall fear no ill;
For thou, O Lord, art with me still:
Thy friendly crook shall give me aid,
And guide me through the dreadful shade.
Though in a bare and rugged way,
Through devious lonely wilds I stray,
Thy bounty shall my pains beguile;
The barren wilderness shall smile,
With sudden greens and herbage crown'd,
And streams shall murmur all around.

Gratitude.

WHEN all thy mercies, O my God!
My rising soul surveys;
Transported with the view, I'm lost
In wonder, love, and praise!

O! how shall words with equal warmth
The gratitude declare,

That glows within my ravish'd heart!
But thou canst read it there.

Thy providence my life sustain'd,
And all my wants redrest,
When in the silent womb I lay,
And hung upon the breast.

To all my weak complaints and cries
Thy mercy lent an ear,

Ere yet my feeble thoughts had learnt
To form themselves in pray'r.

Unnumber'd comforts to my

Thy tender care bestow'd,

soul

Before my infant heart conceiv'd

From whom those comforts flow'd.

ADDISON.

When in the slipp'ry paths of youth
With heedless steps I ran,

Thine arm, unseen, convey'd me safe,
And led me up to man.

Through hidden dangers, toils, and deaths,
It gently clear'd my way,

And through the pleasing snares of vice,
More to be fear'd than they.

When worn with sickness, oft hast thou
With health renew'd my face,
And when in sins and sorrow sunk,
Reviv'd my soul with grace.

Thy bounteous hand with worldly bliss
Has made my cup run o'er,
And in a kind and faithful friend
Has doubled all my store.

Ten thousand thousand precious gifts
My daily thanks employ,
Nor is the least a cheerful heart,
That tastes those gifts with joy.

Through every period of my life
Thy goodness I'll pursue;
And, after death, in distant worlds

The glorious theme renew.

When nature fails, and day and night
Divide thy works no more,

My ever-grateful heart, O Lord!
Thy mercy shall adore.

Through all eternity to thee,
A joyful song I'll raise,
But, oh! eternity's too short
To utter all thy praise.

ADDISON.

Remembrances.

I REMEMBER, I remember,
The house where I was born,
The little window, where the sun
Came peeping in at morn;
He never came a week too soon,
Nor brought too long a day;-
But now I often wish the night
Had borne my breath away!

I remember, I remember,
The roses red and white,
The violets and the lily-cups-
Those flowers made of light;
The lilacs where the robins built,
And where my brother set
The laburnum, on his birth-day-
The tree is living yet!

I remember, I remember,

The fir-trees dark and high;
I used to think their slender spires,
Were close against the sky!

It was a childish ignorance,

But now 'tis little joy

To know I'm further off from heaven,

Than when I was a boy.

The Beggar's Petition.

PITY the sorrows of a poor old man!

HOOD.

Whose trembling limbs have borne him to your door, Whose days are dwindled to the shortest span;

Oh! give relief-and Heaven will bless your store.

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