Thy fame, thy worth, thy filial love, at last,

Shall foothe his aching heart for all the past

With many a smile

my folitude repay,

And chafe the world's ungenerous fcorn away.

235

"And fay, when fummon'd from the world and thee,

I lay my head beneath the willow tree;

Wilt thou, fweet mourner! at my stone appear,

And foothe my parted spirit ling'ring near?
Oh, wilt thou come! at ev'ning hour, to shed
The tears of Memory o'er my narrow bed ;
With aching temples on thy hand reclin'd,

Muse on the last farewell I leave behind,

Breathe a deep figh to winds that murmur low,

And think on all my love, and all my woe?"

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245

How fondly looks admiring Hope the while,

At every artlefs tear, and every fmile!

How glows the joyous parent to descry
A guileless bofom, true to sympathy!

Bij

263

Where is the troubled heart confign'd to share

Tumultuous toils, or folitary care,

Unbleft by vifionary thoughts that stray

To count the joys of Fortune's better day!
Lo, nature, life, and liberty relume

The dim-ey'd tenant of the dungeon gloom,
A long lost friend, or hapless child restor❜d,
Smile at his blazing hearth and social board :
Warm from his heart the tears of rapture flow,

And virtue triumphs o'er remember'd woe.

Chide not his peace, proud Reafon! nor destroy

The fhadowy forms of uncreated joy,

That urge the lingering tide of life, and pour

Spontaneous flumber on his midnight hour.

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