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For these he mourns ; for these his racking heart,
Tho'nurs'd in troubles, and inur'd to smart,
Melting to softness, joins the weeping train,
And seeks Religion's aid to ease his pain ;
Her heav'n-taught precepts calmly he pursues,
Faithful in hope, to Providence he sues,
Humbly resolvid with patience to endure,
And trusts, that He who gave the wound will cure:
Nor trusts in vain ; for see, at Heav'n's command,
As Him of yore, with healing in his hand,
An angel-minister of peace appears,
With downy pinions wipes the falling tears,
Puts fell Despair to flight, dispels the gloom,
And Health and Competence their reign refume!

Nor yet confin'd to private acts alone,
Is mild Philanthropy's bless'd influence known ;
Kingdoms and states her kind protection share,
And ev'ry human ill demands her care.

When civil broils distract the commonweal,
'Tis her's to soften, and 'tis her's to heal ;
To bend the rigid patriot's haughty soul,
To teach the fierce republican controul ;
And bid the frantick demagogues contend,
Who most shall be, not seem, his country's friend,

But should Rebellion dare, with lawless aim,
In arms to vindicate some groundless claim ;
With wild presumption king and fenate awe,
And madly spurn at loyalty and law;
Then shall Philanthropy, with steady view,
Unchang'd, unmovid, her gen'rous plans pursue ;
With necessary force her arm extend,
And check with pow'r diyine th' insulting fiend :
Nor spares she then her deareft son to yield
To all the dangers of th'embattled field ;
But bids him, zealous in the righteous cause
Of injar'd faith and violated laws,


Go forth his country's champion, lead her bands
O'er feas Atlantick, to those hostile lands
Where clam'rous faction rules the wide domains,
And holds Allegiance bound in galling chains;
Where Loyalty and Virtue, doom'd to fly,
Unhallow'd Tumult lifts his banner high ;
Where loud Confusion and fell Discord roar,
And Peace and Order quit the hated shore,

The heats of party-fury to assuage,
To ftem the torrent of misguided rage ;
To bid mistaken zealots rancour cease,
And call them back to reason and to peace ;
Inspir'd by thee, the noble youth essays,
And points the sacred branch a thousand ways*:
But deaf to Wisdom's, as to Virtue's call,
And still resolv'd to urge their desp'rate fall,
When led by Folly to Destruction's brink,
From proffer'd terms the wretched victims shrink,
Parental love, with savage hate requite,
And turn from mercy with contemptuous flight;
The Christian hero, from resentment free,
Tempers strict justice with humanity,
And whilft his arms immortal trophies raise,
Efteems THE FRIEND OF MAN his better praise.

All hail, Philanthropy! whose lib'ral mind,
Fix'd to no climate, to no state confin'd,
Pervading Nature's universal soul,
Irradiates, actuates, and informs the whole !

The humble peafant, who with guiltless breast,
Flush'd by no hopes, and by no fears possess’d,
Unnotic'd strays the road of life along,
And chears his labours with an artless song;
Touch'd by Philanthropy, with pleasure eyes
The neighb’ring crops in promis’d plenty rise ;
Conducts the wand'rer to his master's fold,
Or helps the harvest home of future gold,


The cunning artist, whose mechanick hand
Proportion, form, and beauty can command,
The mass unthap'd, to order can reduce,
And call it forth to elegance and use,
Her influence feels-with honeit pride imparts
The wond'rous progress of his mimick arts ;
Free to commend, and only Now to blame,
· He joys to lead the docile youth to fame;
His pupil's merit with regard surveys,
And fcarcely claims his due, the master's praise.

The man of science lives not for himself,
Nor hoards his treasures up like fordid pelf ;
Pleas’d to communicate, ftill more to find
His labour prove a blessing to mankind;
Ambitious only of that noble praise,
Which honest fame in grateful tribute pays ;
Founds on Philanthropy his gen’ral plan,
And makes his sole pursuit, THE GOOD OF MAN.

Where Windsor's turrets, tow'ring to the skies,
In proud pre-eminence majestick rise;
Where George and Charlotte, born to reign and bless,
From toils of state enjoy their lov'd recess;
Philanthropy, their welcome guest, attends,
From publick cares the royal breast unbends,
And leaves the monarch happy to dispense
The milder virtues of beneficence.

The turf-crown'd cottage, undifturb'd retreat,
Upon whose roof no ftorms of fortune beat,
Within whose walls no gusts of passion blow,
Too mean for envy, and for hate too low,
From Pride, Ambition, base intruders ! free,
With humble grace receives Philanthropy.

Upon the barren mountain's hoary top,
In the low vale where oozing waters drop ;
Along the stream that trickles thro' the wood,
Upon the wild beach of the briny food;


In busy cities, and sequester'd dells,
In princes palaces, and hermits cells ;
Where pamper'd Wealth on bed of down reclines,
Where meagre Want on humble pallet pines,
Philanthropy refides : and low, and high,
Noble, and mean, riches, and penury,
With equal eye regards; not more she loves,
Or Shenstone's bow'rs, or Lyttelton's alcoves ;
But dwells with Virtue, in whate'er degree,
And, good and great Northumberland, with thee.

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AR in a wild, unknown to publick view,
From youth to age a reverend Hermit

The moss his bed, the cave his humble cell,
His food the fruits, his drink the chryftal well:
Remote from men, with God he pass’d the days,
Pray'r all his business, all his pleasure praise.

A ffe so facred, such serene repose,
Seem'd heaven itself, till one suggestion rose;
That vice should triumph, virtue vice obey;
This sprung some doubt of Providence's sway.
His hopes no more a certain prospect boast,
And all the tenour of his soul is loft.
So, when a smooth expanse receives impress'd
Calm nature's image on it's wat’ry breast,
Down bend the banks, the trees depending grow,
And skies beneath with answering colours glow :
But if a stone the gentle sea divide,
Swift ruffling circles curl on ev'ry fide,
And glimmering fragments of a broken sun,
Banks, trees, and skies, in thick disorder run.


To clear this doubt, to know the world by sight,
To find if books, or swains, report it right,
(For yet by swains alone the world he knew,
Whose feet came wand'ring o'er the nightly dew}
He quits his cell; the Pilgrim-staff he bore,
And fix'd the scallop in his hat before ;
Then with the fun a rifing journey went,
Sedate to think, and watching each event.

The morn was wasted in the pathlefs grafs,
And long and lonesome was the wild to pass ;
But when the southern sun had warm'd the day,
A youth came posting o'er a crossing way!
His raiment decent, his complexion fair,
And soft in graceful ringlets wav'd his hair.
Then near approaching, Father, hail !' he cry'd.
• And hail, my son !' the rev'rend fire reply'd.
Words follow'd words, from question answer flow'd,
And talk of various kind deceiv'd the road;
Till each, with other pleas'd, and loth to part,
While in their age they differ, join in heart.
Thus stands an aged elm in ivy bound,
Thus youthful ivy clasps an elm around.

Now funk the fun; the closing hour of day
Came onward, mantled o'er with sober grey;
Nature in silence bid the world repose;
When near the road a stately palace rose ::
There, by the moon, through ranks of trees they pafs,
Whose verdure crown'd their sloping sides of grass.
It chanc'd, the noble mafter of the dome
Still made his house the wand'ring stranger's home.
Yet still the kindness from a thirst of praise,
Prov'd the vain flourish of expensive ease.
The pair arrive; the livery'd servants wait;
Their lord receives them at the pompous gate :
The table groans with coftly piles of food,
And all is more than hospitably good.


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