With louder plaints the Mother spoke her woes,
And blefs'd the cot where every pleasure rose;
And kiss'd her thoughtless babes with many a tear,
And clafp'd them close, in forrow doubly dear;
While her fond husband strove to lend relief,
In all the decent manliness of grief.

O LUXURY! thou curft by Heav'n's decree,
How ill exchang'd are things like these for thee!
How do thy potions, with infidious joy,
Diffuse their pleasures only to deftroy!
Kingdoms by thee to fickly greatnefs grown,
Boast of a florid vigour not their own.

At every draught more large and large they grow,
A bloated mass of rank, unweildy woe:

Till fapp'd their strength, and every part unfound,
Down, down they fink, and spread a ruin round!
Ev'n now the devastation is begun,

And half the bufinefs of destruction done:

Ev'n now, methinks, as pondering here I ftand,
I fee the rural virtues leave the land:

Down where yon anchoring veffel fpreads the fail,
That idly waiting flaps with every gale,
Downward they move, a mélancholy band,
Pafs from the fhore, and darken all the firand.
Contented Toil, and hospitable Care,

And kind connubial Tenderness, are there;

And

THE DESERTED VILLAGE.

And Piety, with wishes plac'd above,

And steady Loyalty, and faithful Love.

And thou, fweet POETRY! thou, lovelieft maid,
Still firft to fly where fenfual joys invade;
Unfit, in these degenerate times of fhame,
To catch the heart, or strike for honeft fame
Dear, charming nymph, neglected and decry'd,..
My fhame in crowds, in folitude my pride:
Thou fource of all my blifs, and all my woe,
That found me poor at firft, and kept me fo;
Thou guide, by which the nobler arts excel,
Thou nurfe of every virtue, fare thee well!
Farewel! and, oh! where'er thy voice be try'd,
On Torno's cliffs, or Pambamarca's fide;
Whether, where equinoctial fervours glow,
Or winter wraps the polar world in fnow
Still let thy voice, prevailing over time,
Redress the rigours of th' inclement clime;
Aid flighted Truth, with thy perfuafive ftrain,
Teach erring man to fpurn the rage of gain!
Teach him, that states, of native strength poffeft,
Though very poor, may still be very blest :
That trade's proud empire haftes to fwift decay,
As ocean fweeps the labour'd mole away;
While felf-dependent power can time defy,
As rocks refift the billows and the sky.
C/2

EDWIN

VIN AND ANGELINA.

A BALLAD.

URN, gentle Hermit of the dale,
"And guide my lonely way,

where yon taper cheers the vale
With hofpitable ray!

here, forlorn and loft, I tread, With fainting fteps and flow; ere wilds, immeafurably spread, eem length'ning as I go.”

Dear, my fon," the Hermit cries,
o tempt the dang'rous gloom;"
yonder faithless phantom flies
o lure thee to thy doom.

"Here, to the houseless child of want, "My door is open till;

"And, though my portion be but fcant,

"I give it with good-will.

Then turn to-night, and freely fhare

"Whate'er my cell bestows; "My rufhy couch and frugal fare, My bleffing and repofe.

"No flocks, that range the valley free, "To flaughter I condemn;

46 Taught by the Power that pities me, "I learn to pity them :

"But from the mountain's graffy fide
"A guiltless feast I bring;
"A fcrip with herbs and fruit fupply'd,
"And water from the spring.

Then, Pilgrim, turn-thy cares forego; All earth-born cares are wrong: "Man wants but little here below,

"Nor wants that little long."

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