Traced easily to its true source above,

To Him, whose works bespeak his nature, Love.

Thy bounties all were Christian, and I make
This record of thee for the Gospel's sake;
That the incredulous themselves may see
Its use and pow'r exemplified in Thee.

THE FOUR AGES,

(A BRIEF FRAGMENT OF AN EXTENSIVE PROJECTED

POEM.)

[May 1791.]

"I COULD be well content, allow'd the use
"Of past experience, and the wisdom glean'd
"From worn-out follies, now acknowledg'd such,
"To recommence life's trial, in the hope
"Of fewer errors, on a second proof!"

Thus, while grey evening lull'd the wind, and call'd Fresh odours from the shrubb'ry at my side, Taking my lonely winding walk, I mus'd, And held accustom'd conference with my heart; When, from within it, thus a voice replied.

"Couldst thou in truth? and art thou taught at

length

"This wisdom, and but this, from all the past? "Is not the pardon of thy long arrear,

"Time wasted, violated laws, abuse

"Of talents, judgments, mercies, better far
"Than opportunity vouchsaf'd to err
"With less excuse, and haply, worse effect?"

I heard, and acquiesc'd: then to and fro
Oft pacing, as the mariner his deck,
My gravily bounds, from self to human kind
I pass'd, and next consider'd------what is Man?

Knows he his origin? can he ascend By reminiscence to his earliest date? Slept he in Adam? and in those from him Through num'rous generations, till he found At length his destin'd moment to be born? Or was he not, till fashion'd in the womb? Deep myst'ries both! which schoolmen much have toil'd

To unriddle, and have left them myst❜ries still.

It is an evil incident to man,

And of the worst, that unexplor❜d he leaves
Truths useful and attainable with ease,

To search forbidden deeps, where myst❜ry lies

Not to be solv'd, and useless, if it might.
Myst'ries are food for angels; they digest
With ease,
and find them nutriment; but man,
While yet he dwells below, must stoop to glean
His manna from the ground, or starve, and die.

THE

JUDGMENT OF THE POETS.

[May 1791.]

Two nymphs, both nearly of an age,
Of num'rous charms possess'd,
A warm dispute once chanced to wage,
Whose temper was the best.

The worth of each had been complete,
Had both alike been mild:

But one, although her smile was sweet,
Frown'd oft'ner than she smiled.

And in her humour, when she frown'd
Would raise her voice and roar,

And shake with fury to the ground
The garland that she wore.

L

The other was of gentler cast,

From all such frenzy clear,

Her frowns were seldom known to last,
And never proved severe.

To poets of renown in song

The nymphs referr'd the cause, Who, strange to tell, all judg'd it wrong, And gave misplaced applause.

They gentle call'd, and kind and soft,
The flippant and the scold,

And though she changed her mood so oft,
That failing left untold.

No judges, sure, were e'er so mad,
Or so resolv'd to err---

In short, the charms her sister had
They lavish'd all on her.

Then thus the God whom fondly they
Their great Inspirer call,

Was heard, one genial summer's day,
To reprimand them all.

"Since thus ye have combined," he said,

My fav'rite nymph to slight,

"Adorning May, that peevish maid,

"With June's undoubted right,

"The Minx shall, for your folly's sake,

"Still prove herself a shrew,

"Shall make your scribbling fingers ache, And pinch your noses blue."