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And yet be bold, O man, divine thou art, And of the gods celeftial effence part. Nor facred nature is from thee conceal'd, But to thy race her myftick rules reveal'd. These if to know thou happily attain, Soon fhalt thou perfect be in all that I ordain. Thy wounded foul to health thou shalt reftore,

And free from ev'ry pain fhe felt before.

Abftain, I warn, from meats unclean and

So keep thy body pure, fo free thy foul;
So rightly judge; thy reafon fo maintain;
Reafon which heav'n did for thy guide or-


Let that beft reafon ever hold the rein.

Then if this mortal body thou forfake, And thy glad flight to the pure æther take, Among the gods exalted fhalt thou fhine, Immortal, incorruptible, divine:

The tyrant Death, fecurely fhalt thou brave, And fcorn the dark dominion of the grave.



ATHER of all! in ev'ry age,
In ev'ry clime ador'd,

By faint, by favage, and by fage,
Jehovah, Jove, or Lord!

Thou great firft Cause, leaft understood:
Who all my fenfe confin'd



To know but this, that thou art good,
And that myfelf am blind;
Yet gave me, in this dark eftate,
To. fee the good from ill;
And binding nature faft in fate,
Left free the human will.
What confcience dictates to be done,
Or warns me not to do,

This teach me more than hell to fhun,
That, more than heav'n pursue.
What bleffings thy free bounty gives,
Let me not caft away;

For God is pay'd when man receives:
T' enjoy is to obey.

Yet not to earth's contracted span
Thy goodnefs let me bound,
Or think thee Lord alone of man,

When thoufand worlds are round:
Let not this weak unknowing hand
Prefume thy bolts to throw,
And deal damnation round the land,
On each I judge thy foe:
If I am right, oh teach my heart
Still in the right to stay;
If I am wrong, thy grace impart
To find that better way.
Save me alike from foolish pride,
Or impious difcontent,
At ought thy wifdom has deny'd,
Or ought thy goodness lent.
Teach me to feel another's woe;
To hide the fault I fee;
That mercy I to others fhow,
That mercy fhow to me.
Mean tho' I am, not wholly fo,
Since quicken'd by thy breath,


Oh lead me wherefoe'er I go,
Thro' this day's life or death:
This day be bread and peace my lot:
All elfe beneath the fun

Thou know'ft if best bestow'd or not;
And let thy will be done.

To thee whofe temple is all space,
Whofe altar, earth, fea, fkies,
One chorus let all being raife!
All nature's incenfe rife!


APPY the man, whose wish and care

acres bound,

Content to breathe his native air,
In his own ground.
Whofe herds with milk, whofe fields with

Whose flocks fupply him with attire,
Whose trees in fummer yield him shade,
In winter fire.
Bleft, who can unconcern'dly find,

Hours, days, and years flide foft away,.
In health of body, peace of mind,
Quiet by day,
Sound fleep by night; ftudy and eafe,
Together mixt; fweet recreation ;
And innocence which moft does pleafe,
With meditation.

Thus let me live, unfeen, unknown,
Thus unlamented let me die,
Steal from the world, and not a ftone
Tell where I lie..
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A lady's laft farewel to her husband. Wrote a few days before her death.

Hou who doft all my worldly thoughts employ,


Thou pleafing fource of all my earthly joy, Thou tendereft husband, and thou dearest friend,

To thee this laft, this fond adieu I send.
At length the conqu'ror Death afferts his

And will for ever vail me from thy fight.
He woos me to him with a cheerful grace,
And not one terror clouds his awful face.
He promifes a lafting reft from pain,
And fhews that all life's fleeting joys are vain,
Th' eternal fcenes of heav'n he fets in view,
And tells me that no other joys are true.
But love, fond love, would yet refift his power,
Would fain a while defer the parting hour.
He brings thy weeping image to my fight,
And ftays my paffage to the realms of light.
But fay thou dearest, thou unwearied friend,
Say, shouldst thou grieve to fee my forrows

Thou know'ft a painful pilgrimage I've past, And can thou mourn that reft is come at laft?

Rather rejoice to fee me shake off life,
And die, as I have liv'd, your faithful wife."


Daughter to the celebrated Dr. Welwood,

A memorable fong on the unhappy hunting of Chevy-chace, between Earl Douglas of Scotland, and Earl Piercy of England.


OD profper long our noble king,
Our lives and fafeties all,
A woful hunting once there did
In Chevy-chace befal.

To drive the deer with hound and horn,
Earl Piercy took his way,
The child may rue that was unborn,
The hunting of that day.
The ftout Earl of Northumberland
A vow to God did make,
His pleasure in the Scottish woods.
Three fummer days to take;
The choiceft harts of Chevy-chace
To kill and bear away..
Thefe tidings to Earl Douglas came,
In Scotland where he lay;
Who fent Earl Piercy prefent word,.
He would prevent the fport.
The English Earl not fearing him,
Did to the woods refort,

With twenty hundred bow-men bold,
All chofen men of might,
Who knew full well, in time of need,
To aim their shafts aright.
The gallant gray-hounds swiftly ran,
To chace the fallow-deer.
On Monday they began to hunt,
When day-light did appear;
And long before high noon they had
An hundred fat bucks flain.
Then having din'd, the drovers went
To roufe them up again..

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