Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride,
And ev'n his failings lean'd to VIRTUE's fide;
But in his duty prompt at every call,

He watch'd and wept, he pray'd and felt for all.
And, as a bird each fond endearment tries,
To tempt its new-fledg'd offspring to the skies,
He try'd each art, reprov'd each dull delay,
Allur'd to brighter worlds, and led the way.
Befide the bed where parting life was laid,
And forrow, guilt, and pain by turns difmay'd,
The rev'rend champion flood. At his controul
Defpair and anguish fled the firuggling foul;
Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raife,
And his laft fault'ring accents whisper'd praife.
At church, with meek and unaffected grace,
His looks adorn'd the venerable place;
Truth from his lips prevail'd with double fway,
And fools, who came to fcoff, remain'd to pray.
The fervice paft, around the pious man,
With ready zeal, each honeft ruftic ran;
Ev'n children follow'd with endearing wile,
And pluck'd his gown, to fhare the good man's fmile,
His ready fmile a parent's warmth expreft,
Their welfare pleas'd him, and their cares diftreft;
To them his heart, his love, his griefs were giv'n,
But all his ferious thoughts had reft in Heaven.
As fome tall cliff that lifts its awful form,

Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the ftorm,
Though round its breaft the rolling clouds are spread,
Eternal funfhine fettles on its head.

SOURCES OF LIFE AND DEATH.

AN EPIGRAM.

THE vital vigor of the human frame,

Melts down in death, in women and in wine;

Of life and death the fources are the fame,
In these they rife, and in the fame decline.

BEAUTY.

THE BEAUTY which the gods beflow,
Did they but give it for a fhow?
No-'twas lent thee from above,
To fhed its luftre o'er thy face,
And with its pure and native grace
To charm the foul to LOVE.

The flaunting fun, whofe western beams,
This evening drink of ocean's streams,
To-morrow fprings to light;

But when thy BEAUTY fets, my fair,
No morrow hall its beam repair,
'Tis all eternal night.

See too, my love, the virgin rose,
How fweet, how bashfully it blows
Beneath the vernal skies!
How foon it blooms in full difplay,
Its bofom opening to the day,
Then withers, hrinks, and dies.
Of mortal life's declining hour,
Such is the leaf, the bud, the flow'r;
Then crop the rofe in time.

Be bleft and blefs, and kind impart
The juft return of heart for heart,
Ere love becomes a crime.

To pleasure then, my charmer, hafie,
And ere thy youth begins to waste,
Ere BEAUTY dims its ray,
The proffer'd gift of love employ,
Improve each moment into joy,
Be happy whilft you may.

INDEPENDENCE.

THY fpirit, INDEPENDENCE, let me share,
Lord of the lion-heart and eagle-eye,
Thy fteps I follow with my bofom bare,
Nor heed the ftorm that howls along the sky.
Deep in the frozen regions of the north,
A goddefs violated brought thee forth,
Immortal LIBERTY, whofe looks fublime
Hath bleach'd the tyrant's cheek in every varying

clime.

What time the iron-hearted Gaul

With frantic fuperftition for his guide,
Arm'd with the dagger and the pall,
The fons of Woden to the field defy'd:
The ruthless hag, by Wefer's flood,

In heaven's name urg'd the infernal blow;
And red the ftream began to flow:
The vanquish'd were baptiz'd with blood!
The Saxon prince in horror fled

From altars ftain'd with human gore;
And LIBERTY his routed legions led
In fafety to the bleak Norwegian fhore.
There in a cave a-fleep fhe lay,

Lulled by the hoarfe-refounding main;
When a bold favage past that way,

Impell'd by deftiny, his name DISDAIN. Of ample front the portly chief appear'd: The hunted bear fupply'd a fhaggy veft; The drifted fnow hung on his yellow beard; And his broad fhoulders brav'd the furious blaft. He ftopt:-He gaz'd;-his bofom glow'd, And deeply felt the impreffion of her charms: He feiz'd the advantage fate allow'd:

And ftraight comprefs'd her in his vigorous

arms.

The curlew fcream'd, the tritons blew
Their fhells to celebrate the ravish'd rite;
Old Time exulted as he flew;

And INDEPENDENCE faw the light. The light he faw in Albion's happy plains, Where under cover of a flowering thorn, While Philomel renew'd her warbled ftrains, The aufpicious fruit of ftol'n embrace was bornThe mountain dryads feized with joy,

The fmiling infant to their charge confign'd; The Doric mufe carefs'd the favourite boy; The hermit WISDOM ftor'd his opening mind. As rolling years matured his age,

;

He flourish'd bold and finewy as his fire While the mild paffions in his breast affuage The fiercer flames of his maternal fire. Accomplished thus, he winged his way, And zealous roved from pole to pole, The rolls of right eternal to difplay,

And warm with patriot thoughts the afpiring foul,

On defert ifles 'twas he that rais'd

Thofe fpires that gild the Adriatic wave, Where tyranny beheld, amaz'd,

Fair FREEDOM's temple, where he mark'd her grave.

He fteel'd the blunt Batavian's arms

To burft the Iberian's double chain; And cities rear'd, and planted farms,

Won from the fkirts of Neptune's wide domain. He, with the generous ruftics, fate,

On Uri's rocks in clofe divan;

And winged that arrow, fure as fate,

Which afcertain'd the facred RIGHTS OF MAN.

Arabia's fcorching fands he crofs'd,

Where blafted nature pants fupine,

Conductor of her tribes a-duft,

TO FREEDOM's adamantine shrine;

F

And many a Tartar horde forlorn, aghaft!

He fnatch'd from under fell oppreflion's wing; . And taught, amidst the dreary waste,

The all-cheering hymns of LIBERTY to fing.
He VIRTUE finds, like precious ore,

Diffus'd through every baser mould,
Even now he stands on Calvi's rocky shore,
And turns the drofs of Corfica to gold;
He, guardian genius, taught my youth
Pomp's tinfel livery to defpife:
My lips by him chaftifed to TRUTH,

Ne'er paid that homage which my heart denies.
Thofe fculptur'd halls my feet fhall never tread,
Where varnish'd VICE and VANITY combin'd,
To dazzle and feduce, their banners fpread;

And forge vile fhackles for the free-born mind. While INSOLENCE his wrinkled front uprears, And all the flowers of fpurious fancy blow; And TITLE his ill-woven chaplet wears,

Full often wreathed around the mifcreant's brow;

Where ever-dimpling FALSEHOOD, pert and vain,

Prefents her cup of flate profeffion's froth; And pale DISEASE, with all his bloated train, Torments the fons of GLUTTONY and SLOTH. In fortune's car, behold that minion ride,

With either India's glittering fpoils oppreft, So moves the fumpter-mule, in harnefs'd pride, That bears the treafure which he cannot tafie. For him let venal bards difgrace the bay,

And hireling minstrels wake the tinkling firing; Her fenfual fnares let faithlefs pleasure lay; And jingling bells fantaftic folly ring; Difquiet, doubt, and dread shall intervene ; And nature, ftill to all her feelings juft, In vengeance hang a damp on every fcene, Shook from the baleful pinions of disgust.