danger; for hope will warm my heart, and industry strengthen my pinion.
The ensuing epigram I wrote upon a jocular and impudent fellow, who was a manager, and complained of another manager behaving like a bear to his company:
The actors of Sidon and Tyre
May steer by a cynosure small:
My near sight, as Grecians require,
Looks up to a bear that is tall.
This person's figure was not fitly adapted for an actor, unless in the character of a bully, or some part of corporeal extravagance. In the Uncle of George Barnwell, during his dying scene, surrounded with fears of his massy weight sustaining some hurt by too precipitate a fall, and rolling his broad orbs of vision to choose the easiest spot to drop, often have his illiberal criticisms brought to my retaliating memory these lines of Pope:
"As when a dab-chick waddles thro' the copse, "On feet and wings, and flies, and wades, and hops; "So lab'ring on with shoulders, hands, and head,
"Wide as a windmill all his figure's spread."
I detest to the extreme ill nature in any shape; but an agent, who labours hard to reflect credit on his chief, might be spared ingratitude and injury.
After a short lapse of time, I wrote the following.
THE myriad host of heaven's brilliant height,
Seem'd each to typify a day-spring's light,
When darkling care no more with sullen mien,
Lends night the horrors of some hell-born scene;
When flatt'ry's amulet a treacherous spell
Appears, to point despair; and screaming tell
The withering tale of all our blasted peace
Sweet hope her grave, and not the soul's release.
The radiant spheres illumed my leaden gaze,
Faith cheer'd my breast, and grief was lost in praise.
Oh! 'twas a night, when, had not previous thought
Wearied my senses, nor refreshment sought
Upon the tranquil wing of sleep, perforce I'd gazed,
Rapt in conception, and yet still amazed
Anon and ere, till pitying twilight stole
To smooth the change, and ease the lab'ring soul.
To learning's happier sons I left this glorious theme,
Explored my couch, but found this wanton dream.
SPRING's earliest flow'r and vi’let fragrance knew
Methought, where love and childhood grew.
With new-cull'd blossoms, babes perfumed my way,
Wherever bent, and taught me ne'er to stray.
Their merry notes I heard the vales among,
Winning me homewards from the city throng,
The trusty guardian of some fav'rite toy,
My pocket burden'd only with my joy.
The glowing print eve's farewell kisses lent,
Were safe mementos of my blessing meant:
Or could these miss their supplicating end,
Their sleep-clad smiles might gain an angel-friend.
My prudent housewife shared our valued health,
Join'd my thanksgiving, but we pray'd not wealth.
"How blest!-divinely blest!' full grateful I exclaim'd→→
When on a sudden roar'd a blast untamed:
The mountain-torrents well nigh swept my vines,
My cottage totter'd, whilst pealing thunder
Threaten'd to sever ev'ry bliss asunder.
My fav'rite plants, I'd rear'd with fondest care,
And children-garden, floated in despair.
A wretched outcast fainted at my door-
Mine and myself I ceased to think of more,
But hasten'd to relieve this neighbour,
Trusting heav'n certes would bless my labour.
He warm'd him at my hearth, and I awhile
Forgot the storm, and cheer'd him to a smile.
Him did I treat, courted as a brother:
Ingratitude convinced me he was other.
My ears yet deafen'd with the recent storm,
Whose spoils lay prostrate in misshapen form;
My eye-balls, straining somewhere hope to see,
Met scarce a fragment left for mine or me.
From earth to heav'n my languid glance upraised,
I felt a comfort, and its mercy praised;
But, ah! deceptive fortune, prone to teaze,
To cheer or kill me with thy fickle breeze,
Still dost thou mock me with transporting smiles,
My flagging pulse but quickening with thy wiles.
The bleeding heart, which late thy pity bound,
Has-strange to tell!-a sharper dagger found.
The clouds, which sever'd to emit a ray,
Then join❜d in grim and horrible array,
Till frantic fancy raged on ebon wing,
Descried death's cave, yet shudder'd at its king.
The yawning earth a sick'ning sense convey'd,
And crumbling Andes were a level laid.
The boisterous ocean shifted, and its wealth
Lay bare, exposed to miserly and thrifty stealth;
But now return'd and swallow'd up the slave,
Burying his av'rice in its anger'd wave:
Yet on his sins 'twas transient thought-my own
Astounded! On either side echoed a groan
Alternate, that various crimes confess'd:
From some, whose guilt the world had never guess'd;
From most, whose voice hoarse horror quite confused,
And darkling chaos not a face perused;
Each heard of sins, whose penitent, conceal'd,
To fellow-wretches, yet unknown, reveal'd.
Such the alarm my panting spirits caught,
Attention by succeeding wonder fraught,
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