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NCE, I remember well the day,
'Twas ere the blooming sweets of May
Of sunshine and of dews.
In short, 'twas that sweet season's prime,
To Summer's glowing hand,
Which fan the smiling land.
'Twas then, beside a green-wood shade,
I urg'd my devious way,
So wond'rous bright the day.
And now my eyes with transport rove
Unbroken by a cloud!
And now beneath delighted pass,
A full-brimm'd river flow'd.
I stop, I gaze ; in accents rude,
Burst forth th' unbidden lay :
• And pity e'en the gay.
« These, these are joys alone,' I cry; < 'Tis here, divine Philosophy,
• Thou deign't to fix thy throne ! • Here Contemplation points the road,
Thro' Nature's charms, to Nature's God! · These, these are joys alone!
• Adieu, ye vain low-thoughted cares,
Ye human hopes, and human fears,
• Ye pleasures and ye pains !! While thus I fpake, o'er all my soul A philosophick calmness stole,
A stoick ftillness reigns.
The tyrant' paffions all subfide,
No more my bosom move ;
Of universal love.
When, lo! a voice, a voice I hear! 'Twas Reason whisper'd in my ear
These monitory strains :
• What mean'st thou, man would'ft thou unbind • The ties which constitute thy kind,
• The pleasures and the pains ?
• Shall light and shade, and warmth and air, • With those exalted joys compare
s Which active Virtue feels ! • When on the drags, as lawful prize,
Contempt, and Indolence, and Vice, • At her triumphant wheels.
• As reft to labour still succeeds
• Employ his toilsome day;
« This fair variety of things,
• To soothe him on his way.
• Enthufiaft, go! unstring thy lyre,
• How sweet foe'er the strain.
Unless thou mixeft with thy kind,
• Enthufiaft, go! try every sense;
haft learn'd to scan;
. That man was made for man.'
THE CURE OF
BY DR. BROWN.
TENGEANCE, arise from thy infernal bed,
pour thy tempest on his guilty head!!
By sleepless terror Saul possess'd,