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This mental beam dilates the heart,
And fparkles in the face;

It harmonizes every thought,

And heightens every grace.

One glimpfe can footh the troubled breast,
The heaving figh reftrain!

Can make the bed of ficknefs please,
And stop the fense of pain.

Its power can charm the favage heart,
The tyrant's pity move:

To fmiles convert the wildeft rage,
And melt the foul to love.

When fweetness beams upon the throne,
In majefty benign,

The awful fplendors of a crown

With milder luftre fhine.

In fcenes of poverty and woe,
Where melancholy dwells,
The influence of this living ray
The dreary gloom difpels:

Thus, when the blooming spring returns
To cheer the mournful plains,
Through earth and air, with genial warmth,
Ethereal mildness reigns.

Beneath its bright, aufpicious beams,
No boisterous paffions rife;
Morofenefs quits the peaceful fcene,
And baleful difcord flies.

A thousand nameless beauties fpring,
A thoufand virtues glow;
A fmiling train of joys appear,
And endless bleflings flow.
Unbounded charity difplays
Her fympathizing charms;
And friendfhip's pure feraphic flame,
The gen'rous bofom warms.


Almighty love exerts his power,
And fpreads with fecret art
A foft fenfation through the frame,
A tranfport through the heart.

Nor fhall the ftorms of age, which cloud
Each gleam of fenfual joy,

And blaft the gaudy flower's pride,
Thefe bleft effects deftroy.

When that fair form fhall fink in years,
And all thofe graces fly,
The beauty of thy heavenly mind
Shall length of days defy.


AS I wove with wanton care,
Fillets for a virgin's hair,

Culling for my fond defign,

What the fields had fresh and fine:
CUPID, and I mark'd him well,
Hid him in a cowflip bell;
While he plumb'd a pointed dart,
Fated to inflame the heart.
Glowing with malicious joy,
Sudden I fecur'd the boy;
And, regardless of his cries,
Bore the little frighted prize
Where the mighty goblet flood,
Teeming with a rofy flood.

Urchin, in my rage, I cry'd,
What avails thy faucy pride?
From thy bufy vengeance free,
Triumph now belongs to me!
Thus I drown thee in my cup;
Thus-in wine I drink thee up.

Fatal was the nectar'd draught,
That to murder love I quaff'd,
O'er my bofom's fond domains,
Now the cruel tyrant reigns:
On my heart's most tender ftrings,
Striking with his wanton wings,
I'm for ever doom'd to prove
All the infolence of LOVE.


OLD CARE with induftry and art

At length fo well had play'd his part, He heap'd up fuch an ample ftore, That av'rice could not figh for more: Ten thousand flocks his thepherd told, His coffers overflow'd with gold; The land all round him was his own, With corn his crowded granaries groan. In short, fo vaft his charge and gain, That to poffefs them was a pain : With happinefs opprefs'd he lies, And much too prudent to be wife. Near him there liv'd a beauteous maid, With all the charms of youth array'd; Good, amiable, fincere, and free; Her name was GENEROSITY. '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 fafe abide : For th' hungry and the thirfty crew, The bread the broke, the drink fhe drew; There fickness laid her aching head, And there diftrefs could find a bed.

Each hour, with an all-bounteous hand,
Diffus'd the bleffings round the land :
Her gifts and glory lafted long,

And numerous was th' accepting throng.
At length pale penury feiz'd the dame,
And fortune fled, and ruin came;
She found her riches at an end,

And that she had not made one friend.
All curs'd her for not giving more,
Nor thought on what he'd done before:
She wept, the rav'd, she tore her hair,
When, lo! to comfort her came CARE;
And cry'd, my dear, if you will join
Your hand in nuptial bonds with mine,
All will be well-you fhall have store,
And I be plagu'd with wealth no more.
Though I reftrain your bounteous heart,
You fill fhall act the generous part.
The bridal came-great was the feaft,
And good the pudding and the priest.
The bride in nine moons brought him forth
A little maid of matchlefs worth:

Her face was mix'd of care and glee;
They chriften'd her acONOMY,
And ftyl'd her fair difcretion's queen,
The miftrefs of the golden mean
Now GENEROSITY confin'd,
Perfectly eafy in her mind,

Still loves to give, yet knows to fpare,
Nor wishes to be free from CARE.



TURN, gentle hermit of the dale, "And guide my lonely way, "To where yon taper cheers the vale "With hofpitable ray,

"For here forlorn and loft I tread, "With fainting fteps and flow; "Where wilds, immeafurably spread, "Seem lengthening as I go."

Forbear, my fon,' the hermit cries, To tempt the dangerous gloom; For yonder faithlefs phantom flies To lure thee to thy doom.

. Here, to the house-lefs child of want, My door is open ftill;

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And though my portion is but scant,
I give it with good-will.

Then turn to-night, and freely share
Whate'er my cell beftows;
My ruthy couch and frugal fare,
My bleffing and repofe.

No flocks that range the valley free,
To flaughter I condemn :

Taught by that power that pities me,
I learn to pity them:

But from the mountain's graffy fide
A guiltlefs feaft I bring;

A ferip with herbs and fruits fupply'd,
And water from the fpring.

Then, pilgrim, turn, thy cares forego;
All earth-born cares are wrong:
Man wants but little here below,
Nor wants that little long.'

Soft as the dew from heav'n defcends,
His gentle accents fell!

The modeft ftranger lowly bends,

And follows to the cell.

Far in a wilderness obfcure

The lonely manfion lay;

refuge to the neighb'ring poor,

And firangers led attray.

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