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" Worlds should not bribe me back to tread
“Again life's dreary waste, “To see again my day o'erspread
“ With all the gloomy past.
“My home henceforth is in the skies
“ Earth, seas, and sun adieu! o All heaven unfolded to my eyes,
"I bave no sight for you."
So spoke Aspasio, firm possest
Of faith's supporting rod,
The bosom of his God.
He was a man, among the few,
Sincere on virtue's side; And all his strength from scripture drew',
To hourly use applied.
That rule he prized, by that he feared,
He hated, hoped, and loved;
But when his heart had roved.
For he was frail as thou or I,
And evil felt within ;
And loathed the thought of sin.
Such lived Aspasio; and at last ' Called up from Earth to Heaven, The gulph of death triumphant passed,
By gales of blessing driven.
His joys be mine, each Reader cries,
When my last hour arrives: . They shall be yours, my Verse replies,
Such only be your lives.
ON A SIMILAR OCCASION,
FOR THE YEAR 1790.
Ne commencntem recta sperne.
Despise not my good counsel.,
He who sits from day to day, .
Where the prisoned lark is hung.. Heedless of his loudest lay,
Hardly knows that he has sung.
Where the watchman in his round
Nightly lifts his voice on high,
Wakes the sooner for his cry.
So your verse-man I, and clerk,
Yearly in my song proclaim
And the foe's unerring aim.
Duly at my time I come,
Publishing to all aloud-
And your only suit, a shroud,
But the monitory strain, n'to
Oft repeated in your ears,
Wins no notice, wakes no fears.
Can-a truth, by all confessed
Of such magnitude and weight,
Trivial as a parrot's prate?
Pleasure's call attention wins,
Hear it.ọften as we may; :".
Though committed every daya
Death and judgment, Heaven and Hell
These alone, so often heard, No more move us than the bell
When some stranger is interred.
Oh then, ere the turf or tomb
Cover us from every eye, Spirit of instruction, come,
Make us learn that we must die,
ON A SIMILAR OCCASION,
FOR THE YEAR 1792.
Felix, qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas,
THANKLESS for favours from on high,
Man thinks he fades too soon; Though 'tis his privilege to die,
Would he improve the bobu.
But he, not wise enough to scan
His best concerns aright, Would gladly stretch life's little span 'To ages, if he might:
To ages in a world of pain,
To ages, where he goes
And hopeless of repose.
Strange fondness of the human heart,
Enamoured of its harm! Strange world, that costs it so much smart,
And still has power to charm.
Whence has the world her magic power ?
Why dcem we death a foe?
And covet longer woe? .. .
The cause is. Conscience Conscience oft
Her tale of guilt renews:,:.: Her voice is terrible though soft,
And dread of death ensucs..
Then anxious to be longer spared
Man mourns his fleeting breath: All evils then seem light, compared
Witb the approach of death. .'