HYMN TO BENEVOLENCE.

HA

BY BLACKLOCK.

AIL! fource of transport ever new!
While I thy ftrong impulfe purfue
I tafte a joy fincere ;

Too vaft for little minds to know,
Who on themselves alone bestow
Their wishes and their care.

Daughter of God! delight of man!
From thee felicity began;

Which ftill thy hand sustains:
By thee fweet Peace her empire fpread,
Fair Science rais'd her laurell'd head,
And Discord gnash'd in chains.
Far as the pointed fun-beam flies
Through peopled earth and starry skies,
All nature owns thy nod;
We fee its energy prevail
Through being's ever-rifing fcale,
From nothing e'en to God.

By thee infpir'd, the gen'rous breast,
In bleffing others only bleft,

With goodness large and free,
Delights the widow's tears to stay,
To teach the blind their smootheft way,
And aid the feeble knee.

O come! and o'er my bofom reign,
Expand my heart, inflame each vein,
Through ev'ry action shine;
Each low, each felfish with controul;
With all thy effence warm my foul,
And make me wholly thine.

If from thy facred paths I turn,
Nor feel their griefs, while others mourn,
Nor with their pleasures glow;
Banifh'd from God, from blifs, and thee,
My own tormentor let me be,

And groan in hopeless woe.

ཧཱུྃ

SOLILOQUY upon my LAST SIX-PENCE.

Having loft a few Shillings the day before.

N the far corner of a ragged pocket,
I There fill remains a folitary Six-pence,

My laft refource-Its glitt'ring brothers,
To me, alas! are now no more! all gone,
Through the dire gap of a deceitful feam;
My honeft, faithful, gen'rous friends, farewell!
Joy of my heart, and pleasure of my eyes,
You royal ftamps of majefty divine,
Yes, you, who never yet refus'd your fervice,
Though fent on errand e'er fo vile or mean.

[Looking at the Six-pence.

Thou little twinkler, thou alone remain'st
Of all my glitt'ring ftore.-And must thou too diffolve?
Yes, time will have it fo.-There, waiter, bring me
change-

What though thou art my laft, and here thou leav'ft
Thy mafter friendless on a foreign fhore!

He fhall not droop; fure that fame Pow'r who kindly feeds
The hungry ravens, when to him they cry,

The orphan's father, and the ftranger's fhield,

Can fuccour him, though guilty, poor, and friendless.—
Go, then, and fetch the friendly cordial.
But let me charge thee, as my laft request,
O! ftill be kind and useful: ever fhun
The impious hand, that would in iron cheft,
Thy ufeful, humble fervices confine.—
Go, I difmifs thee-O! farewell! for ever!
As lightning fwift, fly to fome empty fob,
And faithful ftill, as thou haft been to me,
Affift, where'er chill penury ufurps;
For only there thy value can be known.

THE BRITISH

POETICAL MISCELLANY.

H'

THE FREEBOOTER...
From the German of BÜRGER.

IGH on a rock, embow'r'd in wood,
In ancient days à caftle flood;

Its tow'rs, when driving in the vale,
The poft-boy show'd me with his hand:
"Thofe were the terrors of the land,"
He faid, and thus began his tale:

With knowing look, he nodding faid,
"The treasure in that rock that's laid,
"To grant to me were Heaven willing,
"I'd tell the king, fir, in a trice,

46

(Pray on your kingdom fet, a price!'
"I'd not be driving for a fhilling.).

"Of many a one, as I am told,
"The mouth has water'd for his gold;

"But Chrift have mercy, Heav'n befriend'!'
"A coal-black hound, with iron jaws,
"With eyes of fire and monftrous claws,
"Has brought them to untimely end.

"Once only ev'ry seven years,
"On Christmas-eve, a flame appears.
6. With hollow groans and ruftling wind,
"The treasure rifes from the ground,
"Watch'd by black goat inftead of hound;
"And that's the time to lay the fiend.

"If from this goat, mark well the fnare,
"You do not pluck one milk-white hair;
"Ever fuch the ways of evil!

"Headlong you're tumbled down the rock,
"Your body's mangled with the shock,
"Your foul is hurry'd to the devil.

"From Old Nick's wiles deliver me!
"From Lords and Law pray keep me free!
"With neither will I have to do;
"By no agreement think to win,
"Spite of all claufe, they'll take you in,
• They'll read it X instead of Ú.

"Treasure digging, and lottery,
"Fortune-hunting, and alchymy,
"Lead only to defpair and ftrife;
"My faying is this, rife early,
"Work fteady, and live orderly,

“And Heav'n above will bless your life.

"A Baron grim, grown old in crimes,"
The poft-boy faid, “in former times,
"Within those walls conceal'd his gold;
"With horfe, and foot, and warlike car,
"Ravag'd the country near and far,
"And brought his plunder to this hold.

"To ravish, murder, rob, or burn,

"Afforded joy to him in turn;

"Threats he fear'd not, fword, or halter:

"Was aught to get, dafh in a crack,

"He had it, and as fnug was back,

"In den as ftrong as Gibraltar,

"Such fright prevail'd in neighb'ring town, "The men scarce call'd their fouls their own, "His name drove women into fits: "Juftices weigh and plan in vain,

Confult, refolve, and plan again,

66

They counsell'd till they'd lost their wits.

"A hag was ta'en, a lump of fins,

"She'd made the children fwallow pins, "Dry'd cows, and play'd fuch devil's tricks,

"Jack Catch, as valet to this witch,

"Had laid her, nicely drefs'd in pitch,

"On couch of faggot and of flicks.

"Hold," fhe cry'd," don't put the fire on:
"Down I'll fetch the grim old Baron;
"The May'r agreed, had her unbound,
"Promis'd a patent free from harm,
"To conjure, ufe her fpells, and charm,
"And fafely witch the land around.

"Such bargain feems a foolish thing,
"Such as to us no gain would bring,

"But Satan's friends ne'er act as one: "From broils of rogues, good will enfue. "This hell-hound to her word prov'd true, "What she'd agreed was fairly done.

"Chang'd to a toad, at time of rest,
"She crawl'd up to the robber's neft,
(By hocus
pocus fhe'd this knack,)
"Of his beft fteed then took the form;
"And when the cock crow'd in the morn,
"Full arm'd he vaulted on her back.

"With thund'ring courfe now flew our witch,
"O'er rocks and walls, o'er hedge and ditch:
"Your Baron pull'd till black in face,
"And curs'd and kick'd, but all in vain,
"She heeded neither fpurs nor rein,

"Nor ftopp'd till in the market-place.

"With scrapes and fneers he's handed down, "Your Lordship's welcome to our town, "Good quarters are prepar❜d for you: "Ev'ry dog, fir, has his day,

"Your courtesy we'll now repay,

"Our hangman fhall the honours do.

"Soon the rogue was brought to trial,
"Facts were prov'd beyond denial;
"In iron cage he was confin'd.
"And leaft at morn he fhould be fick,
They daily gave him an emetic,

"And then he with Duke Humphrey din'd.

"The hangman vers'd in deeds of blood,
With hellish torment, cut, for food,
"Limbs from off this famifh'd finner: