See the slow reptile groveling o'er the green, That trails through slimy paths its cumbrous load, Start in new beauty from the lowly scene,

And wing with fluttering pride the ethereal road; Burst their shell prisons see the feather'd kind, Where in dark durance pent awhile they lie, Dispread their painted plumage to the wind, Brush the brisk air, swift shooting through the sky,

Hail with their choral hymns the new-born day, Distend their joy-swoln breasts, and carol the sweet lay.

See man, through varied periods fix'd by fate,
Ascend perfection's scale by slow degree;
The plantlike foetus quit its senseless state,

And helpless hang sweet-smiling on the knee; Soon outward objects steal into the brain,

Next prattling childhood lisps with mimic air, Then memory links her fleet ideal train,

And sober reason rises to compare ;

The full grown breast some manly passion warms, It pants for glory's meed, or beats to love's alarms: Then say, since Nature's high behest appears,

That living forms should change of being prove, In which new joy the novel scene endears,

New objects rise to please, new wings to move; Since man, too, taught by sage experience, knows His frame revolving treads life's varying stage, That the man-plant first vegetating grows,

Then sense directs, then reason rules in age; Say is it strange, should death's all-dreaded hour Waft to some unknown scenes, or wake some untried power?

The wise Creator wrapp'd in fleshy veil

The ray divine, the pure ethereal mate; Though worn by age the brittle fabric fail, The smiling soul survives the frowns of fate: Each circling year, each quick revolving day Touches with mouldering tooth thy flitting frame, With furtive slight repairs the' unseen decay;

For ever changing, yet in change the same; Oft hast thou dropp'd unhurt thy mortal part, Dare the grim terror then, nor dread his guiltless

dart.

The twinkling eye, whose various humour drown'd, Takes in soft nest the inverted form behind, The listening ears that catch the waving sound, Are but mere organs of the feeling mind: External matter thus can lend its aid,

And distant shapes with foreign power supply; Thus the long tube by Galileo made

Brings home the wonders of the peopled sky: The power percipient then feels no decay, Though blind the tube, and darkness blot the visual ray.

When lock'd in short suspense by sleep's soft power In temporary death the senses lie,

When solemn silence reigns at midnight hour, Deaf the dull ear, and closed the curtain'd eye; Objects of sense, each conscious sense asleep, With lively image strike the wakeful soul, Some frowning rock that threats the foaming deep, Or wood-hung vale, where streams meandering

roll,

Some long lost friend's returning voice you hear, Clasp the life-pictured shade, and drop the pleasing tear.

Each outward organ, as ideas rise,

Gives easy entrance to the motley train; Reflection calm, with retrospective eyes

Surveys her treasures in the formful brain; Though Death relentless shed his baleful dew, In Lethe dip each form-conveying power, Unhurt Reflection may her themes pursue,

Smile at the ruin, safe amidst her store; Without one sense's aid in life's low vale, Fancy can furnish joys, and reason lift her scale:

Thus the lone lover in the pensive shade
In day-dreams rapt of soft ecstatic bliss,
Pursues in thought the visionary maid,

Feasts on the fancied smile and favour'd kiss:
Thus the young poet at the close of day,
Led by the magic of some fairy song,

Through the dun umbrage winds his heedless way, Nor hears the babbling brook that brawls along : Thus deathless Newton, deaf to nature's cries, Would measure time and space, and travel round the skies.

When just expiring hangs life's trembling light,

And fell disease strikes deep the deadly dart, Reason and memory burn with ardour bright, And generous passions warm the throbbing heart; Oft will the vigorous soul in life's last stage With keenest relish taste pure mental joys: Since the fierce efforts of distemper's rage

Nor bates her vigour, nor her power destroys, Say, shall her lustre death itself impair?

When in high noon she rides, then sets in dark despair?

VOL. I.

DD

Though through the heart no purple tide should

flow,

No quivering nerve should vibrate to the brain, The mental powers no mean dependance know;

Thought may survive and each fair passion reign: As when Lucina ends the pangful strife, [flame, Lifts her young babe, and lights her lambent Some powers new-waking hail the dawning life,

Some unsuspended live, unchanged, the same; So from our dust fresh faculties may bloom, [tomb. Some posthumous survive, and triumph o'er the This fibrous frame, by nature's kindly law,

Which gives each joy to keen sensation here, O'er purer scenes of bliss the veil may draw, And cloud reflection's more exalted sphere; When death's cold hand with all dissolving power Shall the close tie with friendly stroke unbind, Alike our mortal as our natal hour

May to new being raise the waking mind: On death's new genial day the soul may rise, Born to some higher life and hail some brighter

skies.

The moss-grown tree, that shrinks with rolling

years,

The drooping flowers that die so soon away, Let not thy heart alarm with boding fears,

Nor thy own ruin date from their decay: The blushing rose that breathes the balmy dew, No pleasing transports of perception knows, The reverend oak that circling springs renew, Thinks not, nor by long age experienced grows; Thy fate and theirs confess no kindred tie, Though their frail forms may fade, shall sense and reason die?

Nor let life's ills, that in dire circle rage, [sighs; Steal from thy heaving breast those labour'd These, the kind tutors of thy infant age,

Train the young pupil for the future skies: Unschool'd in early prime, in riper years

Wretched and scorn'd still struts the bearded The tingling rod, bedew'd with briny tears, [boy; Shoots forth in graceful fruits of manly joy: The painful cares that vex the toilsome spring Shall plenteous crops of bliss in life's last harvest bring.'

She ceased, and vanish'd into sightless windO'er my torn breast alternate passions sway, Now Doubt desponding damps the wavering mind, Now Hope reviving sheds her cheerful ray. Soon from the skies in heavenly white array'd,

Faith to my sight reveal'd, fair cherub! stood; With life replete the volume she display'd,

Seal'd with the ruddy stains of crimson blood; Each fear now starts away, as spectres fly [sky. When the sun's orient beam first gilds the purple

Meanwhile the faithful herald of the day,

The village cock, crows loud with trumpet shrill, The warbling lark soars high, and morning gray Lifts her glad forehead o'er the cloud-wrapt hill: Nature's wild music fills the vocal vale;

The bleating flocks that bite the dewy ground, The lowing herds that graze the woodland dale, And cavern'd echo swell the cheerful sound; Homeward I bend with clear unclouded mind, Mix with the busy world, and leave each care behind.

DENTON.