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Thou shalt be made to answer at the bar
Then stay the present instant, dear Horatio; Imprint the marks of wisdom on its wings. 'Tis of more worth than kingdoms! far more pre
cious Than all the crimson treasures of life's fountain !Oh! let it not elude thy grasp; but, like The good old patriarch upon record, Hold the fleet angel fast until he bless thee.
SOME HASTY RHYMES ON SLEEP.
All nations of the air and land
The slave, that's destined to the oar,
The purple tenant of the crown Implores thy aid on beds of down: While Lubin and his healthy bride Obtain what monarchs are denied.
The garter'd statesman thou wouldst own, But rebel conscience spurns thy throne; Braves all the poppies of the fields, And the famed gum' that Turkey yields.
While the good man, oppress'd with pain, Shall court thy smiles, nor sue in vain : Propitious thou'lt his prayer attend, And
prove his guardian and his friend. Thy faithful hands shall make his bed, And thy soft arm support his head.
Tell me, my Cælia, why so coy;
Of men so much afraid; Cælia, 'tis better far to die
A mother than a maid.
The rose, when past its damask hue,
Is always out of favour;
Its loses too its flavour.
To vernal flowers the rolling years
Returning beauty bring;
Nor know a second spring.
ADDRESSED TO A YOUNG LADY,
WHOSE FAVOURITE BIRD WAS ALMOST KILLED BY A
FALL FROM HER FINGER.
As Tiney, in a wanton mood,
Ambitious to be free;
tries By flight to reach the distant skies,
And gain his liberty.
Ah! luckless bird, what though caress'd,
Taught e'en by her to sing;
Thy mistress cut thy wing.
The feather'd tribe who cleave the air,
And quick escape our power;
And threw him on the floor.
Stunn’d with the fall, he seem'd to die,
Scarce heaved his pretty breast;
And is at heart distress'd.
The stoic soul, in gravest strain,
Which thus from fondness flow;
That purest joys bestow.
So, should it be fair Lucy's fate,
To boast a mother's name;
And praise uncensured claim."
TO THE REV. JAMES HERVEY,
ON HIS MEDITATIONS.
To form the taste, and raise the nobler part,
the God of Nature friend of all; Hervey for this his mental landscape drew, And sketch'd the whole creation out to view.
The' enamel'd bloom, and variegated flower, Whose crimson changes with the changing hour; The humble shrub, whose fragrance scents the
morn, With buds disclosing to the early dawn; The oaks that grace Britannia's mountains' side, And spicy Lebanon's superior pride';
I The Cedar.
All loudly sovereign excellence proclaim,
The azure fields that form the extended sky,
winter's venerable guise, Its shrouded glories, and instructive skies 2; His the snow's plumes, that brood the sickening
blade: His the bright pendant that impearls the glade; The waving forest, or the whispering brake; The surging billow, or the sleeping lake. The same who pours the beauties of the spring, Or mounts the whirlwind's desolating wing. The same who smiles in Nature's peaceful form, Frowns in the tempest, and directs the storm.
"Tis thine, bright teacher, to improve the age; "Tis thine, whose life's a comment on thy page; Thy happy page! whose periods sweetly flow, Whose figures charm us, and whose colours glow: Where artless piety pervades the whole, Refines the genius, and exalts the soul. For let the witling argue all he can, It is Religion still that makes the man: "Tis this,my friend, that streaks our morning bright; 'Tis this that gilds the horrors of the night. When wealth forsakes us, and when friends are few; When friends are faithless, or when foes pursue; 'Tis this that wards the blow, or stills the smart, Disarms affliction, or repels its dart;
Referring to the Winter Piece.