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Appear to act from reas’ning thus absurd,
And thus entirely false; they seem led on
By sensuality, extravagance,
And taste for gaiety, to fhun thy paths,
Celestial charity! as though vice crown'd
Her followers with never-fading bliss,
And. virtue with remorse. How blind are they!
How little notice take they of the sure
Eventual certain consequence of good
And evil; they have never scrutiniz'd
The character of him who venerates
Thee, goddess, and thy laws! nor mark'd th effect
On his deportment, of thy influence;
The bosom which thy precepts govern, heaves
With ev'ry noble feeling that can grace
Man's nature; they not only teach our hearts
To pity indigent distress, and hands
To'minister relief, but eke command
Expressly ev'ry nerve to be out-stretch'd
In Toft'ning woe from other causes springing.
The charitable man, if sorrows pierce
His neighbour's breast, will haste to pour the halm
Of tender friendship on his wounds, and ease
Their agony; he mingles tears with his,
And joins his grief, and, when fit feafun, points
Th' afflicted eye beyond the grave, where grief
Shall wet the cheek no more !Yet not alone
His friends and neighbours his affection share,
Far wider than th' horizon round his view
His kindness reaches, and in one embrace
He holds all nations, ev'ry class of men;
Nor colour, tongue, nor clime, in his good-will
Distinction mark, but each, by one God made,
He owns his fellow creature, loves as such,
Rejoices in his happiness, bewails
His miscry; and when that thirsty fue
Of earthly comfort, scourging war, destroys
The human race by multitudes a day;
He shudders at the tale, and thinks he hears
The murd'rous cannons róar, the vanquilh'd cry,
The wounded Ihriek, the dying feebly groan,

And gasp for breath, and mentally beholds
“ The mangled bodies of the wretched Nain,
« Sirew in vaft hcaps the desolated plain!"
He weeps that man so oft the victim falls
To fellow-man's ambition, and deplores
The madness of those princes who to whim,
To rage for conqueft, or to passions pleas'd
With blood and Naughter, can, without regret,
Whole thousands of their subjects facrifice;
Their subjects, whom as chiefs they should protect;
Their subjects, whom as fathers, they should love
Nor less he weeps, oh Charity! nor less
Ambition execrates, when wand'ring thought
*Presents wrong'd Afric's picture to his mind;
On the long catalogue of injuries
Most infamous, which her devoted sons
Are daily suff'ring from the barb'rous hand
Of European wanton cruelty,
His heated fancy dwells; before his eyes
It paints the mis’ries of the fable race,
And shews him those enslav'd unfortunates
Writhing in all the agoniz'd excess
Of intellectual and corporeal pain,
Laden with such calamities, O'erwhelm'

d e With such accumulated wretchedness, As makes him tremble when he owns himself Of form and being like their vile tormentors : « Oh God !” exclaims he, heart-shock'd, “ can thy

"work, “ Thy greatest work, the wond'rous soul of man, “ Which from thy hands creative, perfect came, “ Be now so thoroughly deprav’d, lo lott “ In very wickedness; oh God! 'root out “ This foul degrading inhumanity, “ Infernal brutalizing vice, and plant “ Compassion, mercy, pity, in its stead!”

Thus prays he, and th' Almighty on his head
Permits, in thow'rs of blessings, to defcend,
The grand reward of his philanthropy,
A frame of disposition so serene,
So calm and temperate, a mind possess'd

Of such collected dauntless dignity,
Unshaken firmness, felf-dependant strength,
That whether moving in the tranquil scenes
Of prosp'rous ease, or forc'd the rugged steep
Of fate adverse to climb, ftill, nor seduc'd
By fortune's smiles, nor bending 'neath her frowns,
He proves that his all-comprehensive eye
Sees heaven's juftice ev'rywhere prefide!
Does glitering affluence his steps attend ?
He deems himself the favour' d inftrument
Of Providence, ordain’d to magnify
His brethren's happiness, and executes
Most faithfully the gratifying task. 'n
Does poverty attempt to cloud his brow? *
The ghastly tribe of evils in her train :
In vain opprefs him; stedfast he, unhurt, e
Unvanquish'd, unaffected, undismay'd.
What though affliction in het direft form
Terrifical, affail him with the force
Of anger'd ocean's wrath, he braves her rage
Immoveable as rock-built Eddiftone;
His unimpression'd front, like Albion's cliff,
Made whiter and more brilliant by the ftorm!
Let sickness havock, dart-arm's death approach,
Amidst the mourning of his friends, his face
With cheerful refignation fervid glows;
Depress'd by no forcbodings, unalarm'd,
His heaven-deftin'à fpirit cager burits
Its cumbrous ligature of flesh, borne on
The universal piaifes of mankind
Ascends in glory, and with joy receiv'd
By throngs angelic, near the throne of God
In blissful empyrëan takes its place!


DOOR hapless victim of oppressive power!
It In vain you raise the agonizing cry,
In vain for gentle mercy you implore,

Alas! in vain, no helping hand is nigh.
For thee, no friendly hand will bring relief,

In pangs extreme thou must resign thy breath;
Protracted torments must increase thy grief,

And add new horrors to th' approach of death.
How chang'd is now the scene, fince, when o'crjoy'd

Thou cheerful hail'dl the morn's sweet orient beam,,
When thy fond mother homeward to thee hicd,

Full laden with the rich nutritious stream.
But now, alas! from her fond side thou'rt torn,

And here within this doleful prison penn’d,
Condemn’d in ling'ring agonies to mourn,

In fruitless cries thy feeble breath to spend.
Fell luxury! such the miseries of thy reign,

Such the dire carnage of thy horrid sway,
Thy savage arts spread Naughter o'er the plain,

And cruelty and bloodshed mark thy way.
Oh! shame, disgrace to Britain's favor'd ifle,

That in her courts such luxury should reign,
How dare we hope that heav'n on us Thould smile,
While thus with cruelty our hands we stain!



* The barbarities practised in killing these poor animals by repeated bleedings, reflect disgrace on the promoters of such enormities, and cannot fail of exciting horror in every mind not totally loft to all sentiments of humanity and benevo. lence,

O H hide me from the city's tirefome strife,

O In some secluded peace-beitowing vale;
Well may he hate this span of mortal life,
Who feels like me how very false and frail,
Are all our hopes of human happiness;
The gala and the theatre, how ftale!
The song convivial--impotent to bless,
Nor wit refin’d, nor laugh-provoking tale,
Nor all the gouds of luxury and dress,
Can charm his heart whose peace of mind is filed. ,
What then can filent solitude avail,
The wood, the mountain, and the classic shade ?
Is heav'n-born hope, content, or Delia there?
Ah, no !--they can but echo my despair.


. to


AN AFFECTIONATE WIFE. LU HY from thine eyes do pearly tears diftil? - VV Why droops thy soul with sorrow's painful

load, For one who refts secure from human ill,

Whom death hath summon'd to his still abode ?
True-the was all that bounteous heav'n could give,

True--fhé deferves those heavings of thy breast ;
A chafter being did not, could not live,

A dearer confort no one e'er poffent.
But what can all thy tender grief avail?

Can it recal her long-departed breath? Restore the roses to her features pale?

Or rouse her from the awful trance of death?

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