HUMAN FRAILTY. Weak and irresolute is man; The bow well bent, and smart the spring, Vice seems already slain; But Passion rudely snaps the string, And it revives again. Some foe to his upright intent Finds out his weaker part; Virtue engages his assent, But Pleasure wins his heart. "Tis here the folly of the wise, Bound on a voyage of awful length A stranger to superior strength, But oars alone can ne'er prevail, The breath of heaven must swell the sail, RETIREMENT. Far from the world, O Lord! I flee, The calm retreat, the silent shade, There if thy spirit touch the soul, And grace her mean abode; Oh! with what peace, and joy, and love, She communes with her God! There like the nightingale, she pours Her solitary lays; Nor asks a witness of her song, Nor thirsts for human praise. Author and guardian of my life, What thanks I owe thee, and what love, A boundless, endless store, Shall echo through the realms above, When time shall be no more. PROVILENCE. God moves in a mysterious way, He plants his footsteps in the sea, Deep in unfathomable mines He treasures up his bright designs, Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take, Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, His purposes will ripen fast, The bud may have a bitter taste, Blind unbelief is sure to err, CRABBE. THE MOURNER. YES! there are real mourners,-1 have seen A fair sad girl, mild, suffering, and serene; Attention (through the day) her duties claimed, And to be useful as resigned she aimed; Neatly she drest, nor vainly seemed t' expect Pity for grief, or pardon for neglect ; But when her wearied parents sunk to sleep, She sought her place to meditate and weep; Then to her mind was all the past displayed, That faithful memory brings to sorrow's aid: For then she thought on one regretted youth, TT er tender trust, and his unquestioned truth; every place she wandered, where they'd been, And sadly-sacred held the parting scene, Where last for sea he took his leave; that place With double interest would she nightly trace! Happy he sailed, and great the cares he took, His messmates smiled at flushings on his cheek, And he too smiled, but seldom would he speak; For now he found the danger, felt the pain, With grievous symptoms he could not explain. He called his friend, and prefaced with a sigh A lover's message.- -Thomas, I must die: Would I could see my Sally, and could rest My throbbing temples on her faithful breast, And gazing go!—if not, this trifle take, And say, till death I wore it for her sake: Yes! I must die-blow on, sweet breeze, blow on, Give me one look before my life be gone, Oh! give me that, and let me not despair, One last fond look!-and now repeat the prayer.' He had his wish, had more: I will not paint The lovers' meeting; she beheld him faint,With tender fears, she took a nearer view, Her terrors doubling as her hopes withdrew: He tried to smile; and, half succeeding, said, "Yes! I must die"—and hope forever fled. Still long she nursed him; tender thoughts meantime Were interchanged, and hopes and views sublime. |