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Night 8.

Art thou dejected? Is thy mind o'ercast?
To chase thy gloom,-go, fix some weighty truth;
Chain down some passion; do some gen'rous good:
Teach Ignorance to see, or Grief to smile;
Correct thy friend; befriend thy greatest foe;
Or, with warm heart, and confidence divine,
Spring up, and lay strong hold on Him who made


Thy gloom is scatter'd, sprightly spirits flow,
Tho' withre'd is thy vine, and harp unstrung.

Night 9.

Look down-down-down,

On a poor breathing particle in dust,
Or lower-an immortal in his crimes.

His crimes forgive! Forgive his virtues, too!
Those smaller faults, half converts to the right.
Nor let me close these eyes, which never more
May see the sun (tho' night's descending scale
Now weighs up morn), unpitied and unblest!
In Thy displeasure dwells eternal pain;
Pain, our aversion; pain, which strikes me now;
And, since all pain is terrible to man,
Tho' transient, terrible; at Thy good hour,
Gently, ah gently, lay me in my bed,
My clay-cold bed! by nature, now, so near;

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By nature, near; still nearer by disease!
'Till then, be this an emblem of my grave:
Let it out-preach the preacher; every night
Let it out-cry the boy at Philip's ear;
And when (the shelter of Thy wing implor'd)
My senses, sooth'd, shall sink in soft repose,
O sink this truth still deeper in my soul,
Suggested by my pillow, sign'd by fate,
Man's sickly soul can rest on nought but THEE;
Here, in full trust; hereafter, in full joy;
Nor of that pillow shall my soul despond;
For, Love Almighty! Love Almighty ! (sing,
Exult, Creation!) Love Almighty reigns!
That death of death! That cordial of despair!
And loud Eternity's triumphant song!



NEAR Yonder copse, where once the garden smil'd, And still where many a garden flower grows wild; There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, The village preacher's modest mansion rose.

A man he was, to all the country dear,
And passing rich with forty pounds a year;
Remote from towns he ran his godly race,
Nor e'er had chang'd, nor wish'd to change his


Unskilful he to fawn, or seek for pow'r,
By doctrines fashion'd to the varying hour;
Far other aims his heart had learn'd to prize,
More bent to raise the wretched than to rise.
His house was known to all the vagrant train,
He chid their wand'rings, but reliev'd their pain.
The long remember'd beggar was his guest,
Whose beard descending swept his aged breast;
The ruin'd spendthrift, now no longer proud,
Claim'd kindred there, and had his claims allow'd;
The broken soldier, kindly bid to stay,
Sat by his fire, and talk'd the night away;
Wept o'er his wounds, or tales of sorrow done,
Shoulder'd his crutch, and shew'd how fields were


Pleas'd with his guests the good man learn'd to


And quite forgot their vices in their woe;
Careless their merits or their faults to scan,
His pity gave ere charity began.

Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride,
And even his failings lean'd to virtue's side;
But in his duty prompt at ev'ry call,

He watch'd and wept, he pray'd and felt for all.
And, as a bird each fond endearment tries,
To tempt its new-fledg'd offspring to the skies;
He tried each art, reprov'd each dull delay,
Allur'd to brighter worlds, and led the way.

Beside the bed where parting life was laid,
And sorrow, guilt, and pain, by turns dismay'd,

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The reverend champion stood. At his control,
Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul;
Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raise,
And his last falt'ring accents whispered praise.

At church, with meek and unaffected grace,
His looks adorn'd the venerable place;
Truth from his lips prevail'd with double sway,
And fools, who came to scoff, remain'd to pray.
The service past, around the pious man,
With ready zeal, each honest rustic ran;
Ev'n children follow'd with endearing wile,
And pluck'd his gown to share the good man's

His ready smile a parent's warmth exprest,
Their welfare pleas'd him, and their cares distrest;
To them his heart, his love, his griefs were giv'n,
But all his serious thoughts had rest in heav'n.

RETIREMENT.-From the Same.

O BLEST Retirement! friend to life's decline,
Retreat from care, that never must be mine,
How blest is he who crowns, in shades like these,
A youth of labour with an age of ease!
Who quits a world where strong temptations try,
And since 'tis hard to combat, learns to fly!

For him no wretches born to work and weep
Explore the mine, or tempt the dang'rous deep;
No surly porter stands in guilty state,
To spurn imploring famine from the gate;
But on he moves to meet his latter end,
Angels around befriending virtue's friend;
Sinks to the grave with unperceived decay,
While resignation gently slopes the way;
And all his prospects bright'ning to the last,
His heaven commences ere the world be past!



WHEN first the college rolls receive his name,
The young enthusiast quits his ease for fame;
Resistless burns the fever of renown,
Caught from the strong contagion of the gown:
O'er Bodley's dome his future labours spread,
And Bacon's mansion trembles o'er his head.
Are these thy views? Proceed, illustrious youth,
And Virtue guard thee to the throne of Truth!
Yet should thy soul indulge the gen'rous heat
Till captive Science yields her last retreat :

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