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Jerningham. What tho' their youth imbib’d an early stain,

A second innocence is now their claim;
While in the precincts of this bless d domain,
They bask beneath the rays of rising Fame.

So the young myrtles in Misfortune's day,
Nipt by the blast that swept their vernal bed,
In 1 helrring walls their tender leaves display,
And wak'ning into life new fragrance fhed.

Tho' white-wing'd Peace protect this calm abode,
Tho' each tumultuous paflion be fuppress'd,
Still Recollection wears a sting to goad,
Still Confcience wakes to rob their soul of rest.

See one the tort'ring hour of mem'ry prove
Who wrapt in pensive secrecy forlorn,
Sits muling on the pledges of her love,
Who fell the victims of paternal scorn.

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Forgot, deserted in th' extremest need,
By him who shou'd have rear'd their tender age:

Was this, Seducer, this the promis'd meed?"
She cries then firks beneath Amiaion's rage.

Her busy mind recalls the fatal plain,
Which with flow lab’ring steps she journey'd o'er,
Haif-yielding to the fierce impetuous rain,
While in her arms two helpless babes 1 he bore.

Her mind recalls how at that, awful hour
The dismal owlet scream'd her shiv'ring note,
How fliriek’d the spirit from the haunted tow'r,
While other sounds of woe were heard remote.

How to the covert of a tott'ring shed,
As Night advanc’d, she fearfully retir’d,
And as around the dark’ning horror spread
Her famish'd infants on her breast expir’d.

How

Jerningham.

How keenest Anguish bad her bosom bleed,
As there she brooded o'er her hapless state:
Was this, Seducer, this the promis'd meed?"
She cries -- then sinks beneath Amictions weight.

Another mourns her fall with grief fincere,
Whom tranquil Reason tells She's Thun'd, disdain'd,
Repuls'd as vile, by those who held her dear,
Who call d her once Companion, Sister, Friend..

That recollects the day when lost to shame,
She fondly facrific'd her vestal charms,
Resign'd the virgin's for an harlot's name,
And left a parent's for spolier's arms.

Imagination pictures to her mind
The father's rage, the mother's softer woe:
Unhappy pair! to that distress consign'd,
A child can give, a parent only know.

At this deep scene, by Fancy drawn, impress’d,
The filial passions in her heart revive:
Reproach vindictive rushes on her breast,
To Nature's pangs too feelingly slive.

If this, or similar tormenting thought, Cling to their foul, when pensively alone, For youth's offence, for Love's alluring fault, Say, do they not fufficiently atone?

Oh, mock not then their penitential woes,
Thou who may'st deign to mark this humble the-

me!
Nor seek with foul derision to expole,
And give to Infamy their tainted name.

Nor deem me one of Melancholy's train,
If anxious for the sorrow-wedded fair,
Tho' little skillful of that heav'nly strain
Whofe melting numbers to the heart repair,

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I steal

Jerningham. I steal impatient from the idle throng,

J The roving gay companious of my age,

To temper with their praise my artless long,
And soft-ey'd Pity in their cause engage.

'Tis Virtue's task to soothe Affli&tion's smart,
To join in sadness with the fair distreft:
Wake to another's pain the tender heart,
And move to clemency the gen'rous breaste

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Be a t t i e.

Beattie.

James Beartie, dieser durch die Grindlichkeit und den Scharfsinn seiner, großtentheils übersetzten, philosophis schen und åsthetischen Schriften auch unter uns råhnlich bei kannte, noch lebende, Schottlander , gehört zu den besten heutigen englischen Dichtern. Sein grdßeres und sehr schis nes Gedicht, The Minstrel, würde ich im vorigen Bande als Beispiel der beschreibenden Poesie mitgetheilt haben, wenn mich nicht die Linge desselben, und der neuerliche Abdruck in Hrn. Benzler's Poetical Library anders bestimmt hatten. Von den unter seinen Gedichten befindlichen Elegieen ist die folgende, auf den Tod eines jungen Frauenzimmers, eine Der schånsten.

ELEGY.

Still shall unthinking man substantial deem
The forms that fleet through life's deceitful dream?
On clouds, where Fancy's beam amusive plays,
Shall heedless hope the towering fabric raise ?
Till at Death's touch the fairy visions fly,
And real Scenes rush dismal on the eye;
And from Elyfium's balmy flumber torn
The startled soul awakes to think and mourn!

Oye, whofe hours in jocund train advance,
Whole Spirits to the song of gladness dance,
Who flowery vales in endless view survey
Glittering in beams of visionary day;
O yet, while Fate delays th' impending woe
Be roused to thought, anticipate the blow;
Lest, like the lightning's glance, the sudden ill
Flash to confound, and penetrate to kill;
Lest, thus encompass d with funereal gloom,
Like me, ye bend o'er some untimely tomb,

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Beattie. Pour your wild ravings in Night's frighted ear,

And half pronounce Heaven's facred doom severe.

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Wise, Beauteous, Good! O every grace combi

ned,
That charms the eye, or captivates the mind!
Fair as the floweret opening on the morn,
Whose leaves bright drops of liquid pearl adorn!
Sweet, as the downy - pinion'd gale, that roves
To gather fragrance in Arabian groves!
Mild as the strains, that, at the close of day,
Warbling remote, along the vales decay!
Yet why with these compared ? What tints fo fine,
What sweetness, mildness, can be matched with

thine ?
Why roam abroad? since still, to Fancy's eyes,
I see, I see thy lovely forms arise.
Still let me gaze, and every care beguile,
Gaze on that cheek, where all the Graces sinile;
That soul-expressing eye, benignly bright,
Where meekness beams ineffable delight;
That brow, where Wisdom fits enthron'd ferene,
Each feature forms, and dignifies the mien:
Still let me listen, while her words impart
The sweer effufions of the blameless heart,
Till all my soul, each tumult charm'd away,
Yields, gently led, to Virtue's eafy sway,

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By thee inspired, o Virtue, Age is young,
And mufick warbles from the faltering tongue:
Thy ray creative chears the clouded brow,
And decks the faded cheek with rofy glow,
Brightens the joyless aspect, and fupplies
Pure heavenly lustre to the languid eyes:
But when youth's living bloom reflects thy

beams,
Refiftless on the view the glory streams,
Love, Wonder, Joy, alternately alarm,
And Beauty dazzles with angelic charm.

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Ah!

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