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If strong desires thy reasoning powers controul;
If arbitrary paffions sway thy foul;
If pride, if envy, if the lust of gain,
If wild ambition in thy bosom reign,
Alas ! thou vaunt'st thy sober sense in vain.
In these poor Bedlamites thyself survey,
Thyself, less innocently mad than they.




AY ye, whose heads decline with weight of years,

Who wade thro' seas to grasp the idol ore,
And make religion centre in your store;
Will death, proud death, who's ambush'd in our frame,
Aw'd by your pond'rous bags, renounce his claim ?
Can meagre mammon's million-making tribe,
Corrupt corruption with a glitt'ring bribe?
Your God, alas ! how impotent to save,
Or gild the horrors of the gloomy grave;
Where dust confounds in dust the poor and proud,
And ermin'd honors dwindle to a shroud!


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RIGHT source of bliss! whose chearing rays in-

My tender muse, and tune the trembling lyre,
Accept, benign, this tributary lay,
The sole return the grateful muse can pay !
With thee, the boor who treads th' eternal snows
And dreary wilds of northern Lapland, glows
With rapt'rous joys; altho' the sun denies
His genial influence, and forsakes the skies,
Thy presence can his frozen bosom chear,
And make the gloom a pleasing aspect wear:
Whilst tasteless grandeur, and unbounded power,
Are void of charms to sooth the pensive hour;
Though fortune smiles, and fav’rite sons complaing
And pleasure tries her varied arts in vain,
To chase intruding cares, if thou deny
Thine heavenly aid, not Inda's stores supply
Our fansy'd wants; we're poor’midst heaps of wealthg
We starve in plenty, and repine in health.

Tho' fhunning oft the pageantry of state,
Thou seek'st with POVERTY, a calm retreat ;
And oft bencath the hermit's moss-grown cell,
Far from the busy world delight'st to dwell;
Thou canst the rugged path of greatness smooth,
Soften distress, or real anguish soothe.
With thee true bliss in every sphere we find,
Alike are blest the HERO or the HIND;

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Like joys attend the helm of state or plough,
The MONARCH's crown sits easy on his brow;
The captive slave forgets his galling pains,
Exults in bondage, and enjoys his chains :
Not so thewretch deny'd thy chearing rays,
Sullen he mourns the joyless tedious days;
Inceffant ills affault his forming eyes,
And all around imagin’d horrors rise.

As through this life's uncertain course I steer,
Celestial maid ! in every varying sphere
Vouchsafe thine aid ; or, if I swiftly glide
Down the smooth stream, or struggling stem the tide;
If prosp'rous gales shall fill my swelling fail,
Or adverse winds and raging storms affail
My little BARK, of every wave the sport,
Be then my guide, and teach me to support
With care and modesty the pomp of state,
Or meet, unmov'd, the harsh decrees of fate.



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UCH his reward! whose zeal had borne its test

Against the monarch on his harlot's breaft. Firm to his coft, he warn’d th' incestuous prince, Nor left his crimes a refuge or pretence. Anointed herald of his LORD he came; His GOD Elijah's, and his work the same. The first translated, and the last remov'd By death to banquet with the God they lov'd !



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LL men, like WATCHES, various periods thare,

year: And which more true or good, 'tis hard to say, An horologe of GOLD, or one of CLAY. False and imperfect both alike we find, In that the spring's in fault, in this the mind : In their mechanic powers both agree, Reason's a balance, wisdom a fusee: But if in either the main spring should fail Or over-act, these powers nought avail. Thus if the will be strong, the fabric weak, The constitution then of course must break : Or if the passions move or high or low, The animal machine's too fast or slow. But when its active springs are duly coild, And not an appetite or sense is spoil'd; When all life's movements mutually agree, And soul with body acts in harmony; This human trinket then may go as true, As any such like kindred trinkets do. And when at length each hath run out their chain, They silent and inactive both remain, And with this difference, revive again: An human hand shall THOSE awhile reftore, THESE one Almighty, and for evermore.





'AIL! happy pair! 'tis friendship tunes the lay,

That joys to see this kind auspicious day ; This happy morn which crowns that mutual love, Unerring wisdom first ordain'd above.

Say, what inducement taught the breast to move,
The soul to languish, and the heart to love?
What native instinct, or exterior charms,
First rais'd the tumult of love's soft alarms?

'Twas winning piety, and sense conjoin'd,
That spoke the innate beauties of the mind :
Cementing friendship also lent her aid,
And crown'd the happy choice that prudence made,

No bribing wealth, nor base designing art,
Urg'd on to flatter, or impellid the heart;
Spontaneous efforts fann'd the latent fire,
And grace inherent, fanctify'd desire.

May CANA'S LORD attend your steps below,
And smile propitious as you onward go;
May he indulgent, bless your future days,
And tune your grateful hearts, to sing his praise !

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