3. The horrors of the grave and hell,
Those sorrows which the wicked feel,
In vain their gloom display;
For he who bids yon comet burn,
Or makes the night descend, can turn
Their darkness into day.
4. No sorrow drowns his lifted eyes;
No horror wrests the struggling sighs;
As from the sinner's breast:
His God, the God of peace and love,
Pours sweetest comforts from above,
And sooths his heart to rest!
A kind and gentle temper of great importanee to the happiness of life.
1. SINCE trifles make the sum of human things,
And half our nis'ry from our foibles springs;
Since life's best joys consist in peace and ease,
And few can save or serve, but all can please;
Oh! let th' ungentle spirit learn from hence
A small unkindness is a great offence.
2. Large bounties to bestow, we wish in vain :
But all may shun the guilt of giving pain.
To bless mankind with tides of flowing wealth,
With pow'r to grace them, or to crown with health,
Our little lot denies; but Heav'n decrees
To all the gift of minist'ring to ease.
8. The gentle offices of patient love, Beyond all flatt'ry, and all price above;
The mild forbearance of another's fault;
The taunting word suppress'd as soon as thought:
On these Heav'n bade the sweets of life depend;
And crush'd ill fortune when it made a friend.
4. A solitary blessing few can find;
Our joys with those we love are intertwin'd:
And he whose wakeful tenderness removes
Th' obstructing thorn which wounds the friend he loves,
Smooths not another's rugged path alone,
But scatters roses to adorn his own.
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.
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. 7. Since such are the joys that simplicity yieids, 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
SECTION XXX.
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 the 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 'hought on what she'd done before. She wept, she rav'd, she tore her hair, When lo! 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.
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,
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
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 !#55
SECTION XXXII.
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.
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