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Feels thy dread pow'r another heart afford,

Whofe 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 fmile bestow,

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And chafe the pangs that worth fhould never knowThere, as the parent deals his fcanty store

To friendlefs babes, and weeps to give no more;

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Tell that his manly race fhall yet affuage

Their father's wrongs, and shield his later age.
What though for him no Hybla fweets diftil,
Nor bloomy vines wave purple on the hill;
Tell, that when filent years have pass'd away,
That when his eye grows dim, his treffes gray,

Thefe bufy hands a lovelier cot shall build,

And deck with fairer flowers his little field;

And call from Heav'n propitious dews to breathe

Arcadian beauty on the barren heath:

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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.

Tell, that while Love's fpontaneous smile endears

The days of peace, the fabbath of his years,

Health fhall prolong to many a festive hour

The focial pleasures of his humble bower.

Lo! at the couch where infant beauty fleeps, 225

Her filent watch the mournful mother keeps;

She, while the lovely babe unconfcious lies,

Smiles on her flumb'ring child with penfive eyes,

And weaves a fong of melancholy joy

"Sleep, image of thy father, fleep, my boy:

No ling'ring hour of forrow shall be thine;

No figh that rends thy father's heart and mine;
Bright as his manly fire, the fon fhall be

In form and foul; but, ah! more bleft than he!

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