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'Tis thus, withdrawn in ftate from human eye, • The Power exerts his attributes on high;

• Your actions uses, nor controuls your will,

And bids the doubting fons of men be ftill.

• What ftrange events can flrike with more furprize, Than those which lately ftruck thy wondering eyes? • Yet, taught by these, confefs th' Almighty juft, And where you can't unriddle, learn to trust!

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The great, vain man, who far'd on coftly food, • Whofe life was too luxurious to be good;

Who made his ivory ftands with goblet's fhine, • And fort'd his guests to morning draughts of wine; Has, with the cup, the graceless custom loft, And still he welcomes, but with less of coft. The mean, fufpicious wretch, whofe bolted door Ne'er mov'd in duty to the wandering poor; • With him I left the cup, to teach his mind

That Heaven can blefs, if mortals will be kind : • Confcious of wanting worth, he views the bowl, And feels compaffion touch his grateful foul. Thus artifts melt the fullen ore of lead,

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With heaping coals of fire upon it's head;
In the kind warmth the metal learns to glow,

And loofe from drofs the filver runs below.

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Long had our pious friend in virtue trod,

But now the child half-wean'd his heart from God;

⚫ (Child of his age) for him he liv'd in pain,
And meafur'd back his fteps to earth again.
To what exceffes had his dotage run?
But God, to fave the father, took the fon.
To all but thee, in fits he feem'd to go,
(And 'twas my miniftry to deal the blow.)
The poor fond parent, humbled in the duft,
Now owns in tears the punishment was just.
But now had all his fortune felt a wrack,
Had that falfe fervant fped in fafety back;

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This night his treasur'd heaps he meant to steal,
And what a fund of charity would fail!

Thus Heaven inftructs thy mind: this trial o'er,
• Départ in peace, resign, and fin no more.'
On founding pinions here the youth withdrews
The fage ftood wondering as the feraph flew.
Thus look'd Elisha when, to mount on high,
His master took the chariot of the sky;
The fiery pomp afcending left to view;
The prophet gaz'd, and wish'd to follow too.
The bending Hermit here a prayer begun,
• Lord! as in heaven, on earth thy will be done!"
Then, gladly turning, fought his ancient place,
And pafs'd a life of piety and peace.

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But not o'er bright Aönian plains,
Enraptur'd as we us'd to roam :
The Mufe each joyous thought restrains,

And calls her wing'd ideas home.

* Tradition holds, that the catastrophe alluded to in this elegy happened about two centuries ago; of which the fculpture was yet to be feen at the above-mentioned bridge, near South Petherton, Somerset.

The

The wedded pair for children pray;

They come fair bleflings from the skies;
What raptures gild the halcyon day!
What joys in diftant azure rife!

But, ah! enamour'd as they view.
The smiling, hopeful, infant-train,
Unfeen, Misfortune marks his due,
Unheard, he threats the heart with pain.

Had fad difafter, ne'er enfnar'd

The foft, the innocent, and young, The tender Mufe had gladly fpar'd The little heroes of her fong.

See'ft thou the limpid current glide

Beneath yon bridge, my hapless theme, Where brambles fringe it's verdant fide, And willows tremble o'er the ftream?

From Petherton it takes it's name,

From whence two fmiling infants ftray'd:
Led by the ftream, they hither came,
And on the flowery margin play'd.

Sweet victims! muft your fhort-liv'd day
So foon extinguish in the wave;

And point the fetting fun his way,
That glimmer'd o'er your wat'ry grave!

As each, by childish fancy led,

Cropp'd the broad daifies as they sprung; Lay ftretch'd along the verdant bed,

And sweetly ply'd the lifping tongue;

Lo!

Lo! from the fpray-deferted fteep,

Where either way the twigs divide, The one roli'd headlong to the deep, And plung'd beneath the clofing tide:

The other faw; and, from the land,
(While nature imag'd strange distress)
Stretch'd o'er the brink his little hand,
The fruitlefs fignal of redress!

The offer'd pledge, without delay,
The struggling victim rofe and caught;
But, ah! in vain-their fatal way,
They both defcended fwift as thought.

Short was the wave-oppreffing space;
Convuls'd with pains too fharp to bear,
Their lives diffolv'd in one embrace,
Their mingled fouls flew up in air.

Lo! there yon time-worn sculpture fhews
The fad, the melancholy truth;
What pangs the tortur'd parent knows,
What fnares await defenceless youth.

Here, not to fympathy unknown,

Full oft the fad Mufe wand'ring near,
Bends filent o'er the moffy ftone,
And wets it with a willing tear.

MELPO.

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