ERRAT A.

Page 21. 1. 20. for even, r. eve. 25. 1. 22. for incites, r. incite. 26. line the laft. for that, r. what. 27. 1. 3. for breath, r. breathe. 30. 1. 14. for quick, r. quite. 17. 1. 8. for her, r. its. 73. 1. 10, for turtle, r. turtles.

ΟΝ Α

FLOWER-GARDEN.

PART I.

N

OW from his orient throne the golden fun

Had pour'd his morning beam, and shed a light,

To beautify the world's reviving scenes.

Soft was the dewy air, the breathing gale

Refreshing nature's face, rich, beauteous, gay.

Scarce yet awake the poring eye of

care

Unfeals its lid, while riot's giddy head
Was juft reclin'd upon its couch of down.

Still and ferene creation's ample round,

While each fair object opening with the morn,
Joins to beget tranquility of mind,

The heart-felt joy and serious thought inspires.

Now tow'ring on the wing, fublime in air,
The lark, melodious fongfter, mounted high,
Breaths her foft mattins, and falutes the day
That lifts her from her bed.----Her early notes
Call the tir'd labourer to renew his toil,

And all the feather'd choir to join her fong.
How fweet each breath of air! to roam abroad
In this delicious fragrant hour of prime?
To tread the dewy flowering lawns, and taste
The various bleffings, with a bounteous hand
Pour'd out by heaven, each ravish'd sense to charm.
Ye fons of indolence and floth, arife,

Start from your drowsy pillows, and partake
More folid blifs, reach'd out each blissful morn
By heaven's indulgent fmile, than what you share
From guilty pleasures, killing while they please.

Gently the greyness of the dawn decays,
And ruddy streaks of gold begin to tinge
The fleeces of the clouds; till now the east
Varies her afpect, loft her quiv'ring light
In a bright, ardent, glowing flood of day.
Say, is it fancy's power infpires the dream,
Suggests the thought; or, do the blushing skies

Redden

Redden with conscious fhame, fuch crowds to view
Preffing their pillows, while the morn awakes,
Inviting every eye to hail its beams?

Shall man be loft, ftretch'd on his bed of down,
Waste all his folemn hours in thoughtless ease,
While, mounted on his golden car, the fun
Travels from world to world in hafte to bear
His Maker's dread commands, and all the choir
Of feather'd minstrels join their grateful fongs
To celebrate their great creator's praise.
Oh! heighten the sweet harmony, proud man,
Of these melodious tribes, and add the strains
Of warm devotion to their tuneful lays;
Improve the gifts of heaven, and, ah! refine
Its balmy odours with a breath of praise.
What floods of light are thofe, which pain the eye,
And brighten the red atmosphere?----Dread fcene!
See! there the light'nings dart their ruddy flames,
The sky above all vaulted o'er with fire

Shot from the bursting cloud! There thunders roll,
Uttering a dreadful voice; loud tempests spend
Their madding fury through the ample space