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"Or wilt thou Orphean hymns more facred deem,

And steep thy song in Mercy's mellow stream;
To penfive drops the radiant eye beguile—

For Beauty's tears are lovelier than her smile

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On Nature's throbbing anguish pour relief,
And teach impaffion'd fouls the Joy of Grief?

"Yes; to thy tongue fhall feraph words be giv'n, And pow'r on earth to plead the cause of Heav'n; The proud, the cold untroubled heart of stone,

That never mus'd on forrow but its own,

Unlocks a generous ftore at thy command,

Like Horeb's rocks beneath the prophet's hand.

The living lumber of his kindred earth,

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Charm'd into foul, receives a second birth;

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Feels thy dread pow'r another heart afford,

Whose paffion-touch'd harmonious ftrings accord

True as the circling spheres to Nature's plan;

And man, the brother, lives the friend of man!

"Bright as the pillar rofe at Heav'n's command, 195

When Ifrael march'd along the defert land,

Blaz'd through the night on lonely wilds afar,
And told the path-a never-fetting star:
So, heav'nly Genius, in thy course divine,
Hope is thy ftar, her light is ever thine."

Propitious Pow'r! when rankling cares annoy

The facred home of Hymenean joy ;

When doom'd to Poverty's fequefter'd dell,

The wedded pair of love and virtue dwell,

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Unpitied by the world, unknown to fame,

Their woes, their wishes, and their hearts the fame---

Oh there, prophetic Hope! thy smile bestow,

And chafe the pangs that worth should never know-
There, as the parent deals his scanty store

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To friendless babes, and weeps to give no more;

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Tell, that his manly race fhall yet affuage

Their father's wrongs, and fhield his later age.

What though for him no Hybla fweets distill,
Nor bloomy vines wave purple on the hill;
Tell, that when filent years have pass'd away,
That when his eye grows dim, his tresses gray,
These busy hands a lovelier cot fhall build,

And deck with fairer flow'rs his little field,

And call from Heav'n propitious dews to breathe

Arcadian beauty on the barren heath;

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page 19.

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Lo, at the couch where infant beauty sleeps. Her silent watch the mournful mother keeps.

Published as the Act directs by Longman& Rees, London, 1 July 1800.

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