So our peace fhall no troubles moleft, But Hymen incessantly sing;

AND, of Bethnal Green,

HOME Polly, if pastoral lay

Your fancy to transport does lead, Panegyrics I fing on this day,

Aflift me the portrait to spread.

'Tis Polly herself on the plain,

Her robe of the dew-fresh'ned green; She can't be averfe to my strain,

So mild and compos'd is her mien.

She fmiles, and elate with the found
Of bells from the hamlet below,
Festivity bids to abound,

And banish all heart-aching woe..

She fmiles, and each branch in the grove
Their leaves into foliage expand,
Rob'd in all the fweet luftre of love,
The flowers revive in her hand.

The prais'd revolution enjoy,
My fair, with ferenity bleft,
And let not one trouble annoy

The placid content of thy breaft.

Come, Polly, thou pride of my youth,
O come with thy dark azure eye;
How fweet to my heart is thy truth,
To the arms of thy Corydon fly.
What bleffings the shepherds await!
The feafoos they hail with a smile!
How happy's the husbandman's fate!
Content is the offspring of toil.

-Ye much envied feenes of repose,

Dear fylvan fequefter'd retreats, Where innocence thields from the woes Attendant on luxury's feats.

Does the eaft brighten wide with the dawn? The lark from her pillow of green Afcends from the fnew-enrob'd lawn Ambitiously rifing is feen.

Ye feather'd musicians of spring,

Your nefts may no dangers annoy; O may the fatigues of your wing Your nestlings mature into joy.

At night from the labours of day,

Thoa choice of my unreferv'd heart, Shall meet thy lov'd fwain on his way, The raptures of truth to impart,

Our lives a perpetual spring.

A

A VISION.

(Continued from Page 104.)

TTEND my visionary page,

And I'll difarm the tyrant's rage:
Come, let this ghastly form appear,
He's not fo terrible when near;
Diftance deludes th' unwary eye,
So clouds feem monfters in the sky:
Hold frequent converfe with him now,
He'll daily wear a milder brow.

Why is my theme with terror fraught?
Becaute you fhun the frequent thought:
Say, when the captive bard is nigh,
Whence thy pale check and frighted eye?
Say why difmay'd thy manly breaft,
When the grim lion thakes his crest?
Because these favage fights are new,
No keeper fhudders at the view;
Keepers, accustomed to the fcene,
Approach the den with looks forene;
Fearlefs their grifly charge explore,
And fmile to hear the tyrant roar.
Ay-but to die! to bid adieu!
An everlasting farewell too!
Farewell to ev'ry joy around-
Oh! the heart fickens at the f und!"
Stay, firipling, thou art poorly taught-
Joys didft thoa fay?-difcard the thought!
Joys are a rich celestial fruit,
And fron a fublunary root :
What wears the face of joy below,
Is often found but fplendid woe;
Joys here, like unsubstantial fame,
Are nothings, with a pompous name;
Drelle, like comets in the (phere,
Shine with deftruction in their rear.
Paffions, like clouds, obfcure the fight,
Hence mortals feldom judge aright;
The world's a harsh, pnfruitful fail,
Yer ftill we hope, and still we toil;
Deceive ourselves with wondrous art,
Aud difappointment wrings the heart.
Thus when a mift collects around,
And hovers o'er a barren ground,
The poor deluded trav'ler fpies
Imagin'd trees and structures rife;
But when the fhroud d fun is clear,
The defart and the rocks appear.
"Ay, but when youthful blood runs high,
Sure 'tis a dreadful thing to die!
To die! and what exalts the gloom?
I'm told that man furvives the tomb!
Dhan the learned prelate find
What future fcenes await the mind?
Where wings the foul, diflodg'd from clay?
Some courteous ang I point the way!
That unknown fomewhere in th-ikies-
Say wirere that unknown fomewhere lies?

And kindly prove, when life is o'er,
That pains and forrows are no more;
For doubtiefs dying is a curfe,

If prefent ills be chang'd for worse."
Huh, my young friend, forego the theme,
And liften to your poet's dream.
Fre while I took an evening walk,
Honorio join'd in focial talk;
Along the lawns the zephyrs fweep,
Each ruder wind was lull d afleep;
The fky, all beauteous to behold,
Was freak'd with azure, green, and gold:
But tho' ferenely foft and fair,
Fever fat brooding in the air,
Then perch'd upon Honorio's breast,
Which fhudder'd at the fatal guest.
No drugs the kindly with fulfil,
Difcafe cludes the doctor's kill;
The poison for ads thro' all the frame,
Ferments, and kindles into flame.
From fide to fide Honorio turns,
And now with thirft infatiate burns;
His eyes refign their wonted grace,
Thote friendly lamps expire apace;
The brains an useless organ grown,
And reafon tumbled from his throne.
But while the purple farges plow,
The currents thicken as they flow;
The blood in ev'ry diftant part
Stagnates, and difappoints he heart;
D-frauded of its crimson ftore,
The vital engine plays no more.
Honorio dead, the fun'ra! bell
Call'd ev'ry friend to bid farewell;
join'd the melancholy bier,
And dropp'd the unavailing tear.
The clock truck twelve, wh n nature fought
Pepo' from all the pains of thought,
And while my limbs were funk to reft,
A vifion footlid my roubled breaft.
I dreamt the spectre Death appear'd,
I dreamt his hollow voice I heard:
The monarch and his train prepare
To skim the dark and midnight air.
(To be continued.)

On the DEATH of a LADY'S LINNET. TOP, gentle reader, nor disdain To drop a tear, tho' tears are vain; But then, perhaps, you ll aik for what? My name was Lin-am 1 torgot? Long did the woods my notes repeat, And cho back my warblings fweet, While all the feather'd choir would join Their voices, but 'ubmit to mine: When lo! on one untucky day, As finging near the flow ry pray I fat, nor thought of any harm, But all ferene, with ut alarm, When one of that perfidious race, Call'a mn, my heedle's footst ps trac'd, And fpread his net with erp I care. T'enllave a harmlefs linnet fair.

In vain I Autter'd to get free, The hawk lefs cruel was than he. A captive I. in wiry cage, Round which I spent my little rage; From whence one of the fofter fex Was griev'd at heart to fee me vex'd; She afk'd the price, and fet me free, Her own companion for to be. Careless I hopp'd from fide to fide, Of all her birds I was the pride; None shared her favours more than I, I knew no care, nor wifh'd to fly; 'Till death my harmless pleasure faw, And watch'd me long with privy paw ; I fell a victim to his fpite, And now no longer give delight: Yet fince I was so happy here, My fate now claims a pitying tear.

H

H

TOW dull each vernal feene appears!
How fancy wets the flow'rs with tears
Now Sylvia is away!

! While he was here cach hill and dale
Breath'd odours like Arabia's gale,

And made all nature gay.

Each morn I with the fun arofe, 1 thought it tedious to repofe

While the sweet nymph was nigh;

But now I try in vain to fleep,
My forrows nightly vigi's keep,
Nor clofe my wat'ry eye.

The fields in which I love to ftray
Are now grown dull, the vocal (pray
Has loft its charms for me;
No Sylvia there I'm bleft to find,
Her abfence has o'erwhelm'd my mind,
I nought but forrow fee.

My sheep no more I tend with care,
They wander far, they know not where,
Jaft like their keeper go:
'Tis all in vain I strive to mend,
I to the night fresh darkness lend,
Inceflant is my woe.

Lie in ambush in her smiles. Those eyes with envy might be seen By the beauteous Cyprian queen; Her fmiles would give a double grace To the bloom of Hebe's face; Hebe's felf is not fo fair, Venus wants her modeft air. Yet beneath these fmiles and charms, She conceals her pow'rful arms; Arms that Cupid's felf did give her, From the heft in all his quiver. In ev'ry place you feel her darts, In ev'ry place the takes our hearts; In the field, nay in the church, She tobs, then leaves us in the lurch; While with voice bewitching sweet, She the plunder'd youths will greet, Look with air fo mild and meek, You could ne'er fufpect a cheat. Thus the wins our hearts away, And leads our fenfes all aftray; That done, the bids us all adieu, And flies new conquests to pursue. My heart he took among the rest, Sh forc'd the flutt'rer from my breaft; I view'd her charms with rapture fir'd, I faw, I lov'd her, and admir'd: And tho' I never dare aspire To charms that thus my bofom fire, I'll proudly hug the pleafing chain, And ne'er will have my heart again.

159

Too foon, alas! the finborn monster came,
Attended by a horrid ghaftly crew,
With pining famine, and deftructive aim,
To prey on man, decreed the spectre's due.

A lovely youth, bleft with each manly grace,
Not long ago in perfect health appear'd;
His gen'rous heart was pictur'd in his face,
His bofom ev'ry noble virtue fhar'd.

Vain was his youth, his expectations vain, Death ling red not, but feized his deftin'd prize,

Swift he convey'd him to his native reign, Regardlets of a mother's and a brother's

fighs.

When

vot'ry,

And on thefe Huftings Genius has its lot'ry. All the world's a stage-old Shakespeare de clares,

And all the men and women merely play'rs; Did Shakespeare's genics light the prefent day,

All the world's a lott'ry I'm fure he'd fay. What is the law, but a deep scheme which tries

To pick your pocket of a swinging prize? Phyfic's another, of which, friends, beware, For Death and Doctor all the prizes fhare. The flate by all's a lottery allow'd,

The wheels of fate, you know-'Sdeath I'm too loud! [fay

The lott'ry wheels, good folks-I mean to The wheels of ttate go always the right way. Yonder's a poet with a difmal face,

Who would attempt to underwrite his cafe?

Naked and open to thy piercing eye'
The inmoft fecrets of my bofom le;
That piercing eye beholds in my fad breast
Sincere remorfe for ev'ry error pait,

And firm refolves to tread in virtue's way,
Nor ever from her facred paths to ftray;
Then furely 'tis a crime to think that he,
Who gave his only fon to bleed for me,

Will view unmov'd my penitence and tears,
Or ftill be deaf to my inceffant pray'rs !
Fly, black defpair, far hence. I'll fix my trust
On God, all-merciful, as well as juft.

And tho' awhile forlorn, without relief,
Loft to the world, I drag a load of grief,
A time may come, when for each anxious
care,

Kind heav'n will grant of joy a double share.

So when the fun forfakes th' ethereal p'ain
For the cool bofom of the fi rgy main,
Awhile we ceafe to view his radiant light,
Loft in the filent horrors of the night.

But foon again, in glorious pomp array'd,
With brighter beams difpels the gloomy fhade;
Again refumes his empire in the skies,
And only fes, more gloriously to rite.

FOREIGN