то The Rev. Mr. MURDOCH, RECTOR OF STRADDISHALL IN SUFFOLK. MDCC XXXVIII. THUS fafely low, my friend, thou can't not fall: Here reigns a deep tranquillity o'er all; No noife, no care, no vanity, no ftrife; Men, woods and fields, all breathe untroubled life. A PARAPHRASE ΟΝ THE LATTER PART OF THE SIXTH CHAPTER OF ST. MATTHEW. WHE HEN my breast labours with oppreffive care, While all my warring paffions are at strife, Raptures deep-felt his doctrine did impart, Behold! and look away your low defpair See the light tenants of the barren air: Yet, your kind heavenly Father bends his eye } They neither toil, nor fpin, but careless grow, If, ceafelefs, thus the fowls of heaven he feeds, ON SONG. NE day the God of fond defire, The fhepherd mark'd his treacherous art, The flave in private only bears Your bondage, who his love conceals; But when his paffion he declares, You drag him at your chariot-wheels. SONG. HARD is the fate of him who loves, Yet dares not tell his trembling pain, But to the fympathetic groves, But to the lonely liftening plain. Oh! when she blesses next your shade, Oh! when her footsteps next are seen In flowery tracks along the mead, VOL. I. Ye gentle fpirits of the vale, To whom the tears of love are dear, From dying lilies waft a gale, And figh my forrows in her ear. Oh tell her what fhe cannot blame, Not her own guardian angel eyes Not holier her own fighs in prayer. But if, at firft, her virgin fear Should ftart at love's fufpected name, With that of friendship footh her earTrue love and friendship are the fame. SON G. UNLESS with my Amanda bleft, In vain I twine the woodbine bower; Unlefs to deck her fweeter breast, Awaken'd by the genial year, In vain the birds around me fing; In vain the freshening fields appear: love there is no spring. Without my |