Must find a colder soil and bleaker air, And trust for safety to a stranger's care; 851 What character, what turn thou wilt assume views, And, artless as thou art, whom thou wilt choose; Though much depends on what thy choice shall be, Is all chance-medley, and unknown to me. Canst thou, the tear just trembling on thy lids, Free too, and under no constraining force, Lay such a stake upon the losing side, Thou canst not! Nature, pulling at thine heart, Thou wouldst not, deaf to Nature's tend'rest plea, Turn him adrift upon a rolling sea, 870 Nor say, Go thither, conscious that there lay Health's last farewell, a staff in thine old age, Thy child shall show respect to thy gray hairs, sso And give thy life it's only cordial left? TO THE REV. MR. NEWTON, AN INVITATION INTO THE COUNTRY. THE Swallows in their torpid state Compose their useless wing, And bees in hives as idly wait The keenest frost that binds the stream, The wildest wind that blows, Are neither felt nor fear'd by them Secure of their repose. But man, all feeling and awake, The gloomy scene surveys; With present ills his heart must ake, And pant for brighter days. 10 Old Winter halting o'er the mead, Bids me and Mary mourn; But lovely Spring peeps o'er his head, Then April, with her sister May, And weave fresh garlands ev'ry day, To crown the smiling hours. And, if a tear, that speaks regret A glimpse of joy, that we have met, 20 |