Wild his bursting eye-balls roll;
Upright stands his bristled hair;
Horror shakes his inmost soul,

Keen Remorse, and grim Despair.
Again he strives his leaden eye to close,
And care-worn nature fain wou'd seek repose;

Vengeance!" the stern Tormentor howls again,
And a new horror thrills thro' ev'ry vein.

Where then may Peace erect her stedfast throne?
Within the pure, the pious breast alone,
Whose gentle passions, harmonis'd by love,
Are link'd to Man below, to God above:
Spite of the boast of Luxury, and Pride,
Within that narrow round-

And only there-her Paradise is found,
'Tis all a waste and desert world beside.
There smiling bands of watchful angels wait
To guard her tranquil bow'rs and blissful state,
And from the hallow'd limits drive afar
The furies of the soul, and busy fiends of Care.

O blest the man! whose aims and ardors rise
On Faith's strong pinions soaring to the skies;
Yet, while conversing here with want and woe,
Acts the good minister of Heav'n below.
The poor reliev'd, the widow's wrongs redrest,
The darken'd mind illum'd with heav'nly day,
The sympathies, that sooth the burden'd breast,
And wipe Affliction's tear away,

These shall like fragrant incense rise,
Heav'n's sweet accepted sacrifice.
These on the friendly gen'rous mind
Will draw God's choicest blessings down;
He'll mercy show for mercies shown,
And still be kindest to the kind.

10.

Doth Poverty create the fears

That o'er your love their shadows fling? The silence of those falling tears

Confesses all the truth I sing.

11.

O! Mary, let not empty shew,
Let not the pride of gaudy dress,
Thus cloud thy morn of Life with woe,
And blight its future happiness.

12.

Trust the monition Baldwin gave,

Our future bliss its truth shall prove : 'Life's cares the Lovers who dare brave, • Shall find their rich reward in Love,'

13.

Baldwin, the hoary-headed Bard,
I still consult when cares annoy
He own'd for me a fond regard;
And calls me still his darling Boy.

14.

His mind is fraught with spoils of Time;
He's wise and good, though known to few:

He gave me this advice in rhyme,

And here I'll read the Song to you :—

15.

Though envious Age affects to deem thee Boy,
Lose not one day, one hour, of proffer'd bliss;

In youth grasp every unoffending joy,

' And wing'd with rapture snatch the bridal kiss.

16.

Let not this chief of blessings be deferr'd,

Till you your humble fortunes can improve; 'None's poor but he, by sordid fears deterr'd, Who dares not claim the matchless wealth of Love,

17.

* Virtue can make most rich thy little store;

• Virtue can make most bright thy lowly state:

⚫ Murmur not then that virtuous thou art poor, While prosperous Vice can make men rich and

22

great.
18. The

18.

The bad man may, his every sense to please,
Each soft indulging luxury employ:
The plenitude of elegance and ease

• He may possess ;-but never can enjoy.

19.

No-though his goods, and flocks, and herds abound;
His wide demesne to fair profusion grown;

Though proud his lofty mansion looks around,
On hills, and fields, and forests, all his own:

20.

Tho' this may tempt thee, murmuring to complain, With conscience clear, and life void of offence, "Verily, then, I've cleans'd my heart in vain; "In vain have wash'd my hands in Innocence."

21.

Yet could'st thou closely mark the envied Man,
• See how desires ungovern'd mar his peace;
Or had'st thou pow'r his inward mind to scan,
How soon in pity would thy envy cease!

22.

Envenom'd Passions all his thoughts unhinge! The Slave of Vice must thy compassion move; • If still he burns with thirst of dire Revenge, • Lawless Ambition, or unhallow'd Love.

23.

'Midst gayest scenes he wears a gloomy frown:
Vain is the splendour that his dome adorns;
While he reclines on silky heaps of down,
His tortur'd mind is weltering on thorns.

24%

To prove that man opprest with mental pain,
The goods of Fortune have no power to please,

Even Suicide has oft been known to stain
The downy couch of most luxurious ease.

26.

Repine not then, that low thy lot is cast;
• Health gives to life or high or low it's zest;
'Tis Appetite that seasons our repast,

'And Weariness still finds the softest rest.

27.

For all thy blessings thankfulness to wake,
Think of less cultur'dlands-less peaceful times
Our coarest fare, when sparingly we take,
'Tis luxury, compar'd with other climes.

28.

Think of the poor Greenlander's dismal caves, Where thro' their long, long night they buried lie; "Or the more wretched lands, where hapless slaves 'Hopelessly toil beneath the fervid sky.

29.

In Britain-blest with peace and competence, • Rich Fortune's favours could impart no more• Heaven's blessings equal happiness dispense; Believe my words, for I am old and poor.

30.

Many who drudge in Labor's roughest ways,
By whom Life's simplest, lowliest walks are trod,
Happily live, to honor'd length of days,

Blessing kind Nature, and kind Nature's God."

31.

What think you, is sage Baldwin right?
Should spring-tide love endure delay?
And shall our bliss be seal'd ere night?
Say, lovely Mary, softly say?

32.

Why starts my love?-why rise to go?
Will Mary then my suit deny?
Sweet is the smile that answers, No!
By Heaven, there's rapture in her eye!