In yon empyreal realms her gentle foul
Dwells amidst myriads of cherubic choirs,
Where years of blifs for endless ages roll,
"And hymning feraphs found their golden lyres." Then bid those forrows from thy breast depart, They ferve but to impair thy mortal frameServe but to break the moft ingenuous heart, That ever glow'd with love's pure vestal flame. Lynn, May, 1799. W. CASE, JUN.
HEN friendship's facred fympathies infpire,
Who can refift the mufes kindling fire?
Friendship! thou dearest bleffing heav'n bestows,
Balm of all care and foftner of our woes;
I at thy fhrine my willing tribute pay,
And to thine honour confecrate my lay;
Thy form is lovely and thy fruit divine,
For love, and peace, and joy, and truth are thine;
And kindred fouls, who feel this gen'rous flame,
Enjoy a fund of blifs that wants a name :
Ye fons of wine! who o'er your cups pretend
Eternal fervice to your jovial friend,
When the warm fumes forfake your reeking brains,
Say, of your boafted friendship what remains?
How oft, alas! what bitter hate fucceeds,
What broken vows, and what atrocious deeds!
How oft in smoke your vain profeffions end,
And the smooth flatterer fupplants the friend:
Ye fons of int'reft! whofe benighted fouls
Are cold and dark as winter at the poles;
Say, when your fav'rite point is once obtain❜d,
Your purfe replenish'd and your neighbour's drain'd;
When pinching poverty diftracts the breaft,
Will then your friendship firmly stand the test?
Will friendship then the needful aid supply,
And wipe the bursting tear from forrow's eye?
Friendship's a pure, a heav'n-descended flame,
Worthy the happy regions whence it came;
The facred tie that virtuous fpirits binds,
The golden chain that links immortal minds!
Not the obfequious fop, whofe words beguile,
Who lives or dies, as you or frown or fmile,
Can feel the joys true amity imparts
To gentle bofoms and to honeft hearts;
To vice and fhame, the charmer's all unknown,
He LIVES and REIGNS in virtuous hearts alone!
And guiltless as th' unfpotted breast
His days were peace and gaiety,
And ev'ry clofing night was reft.
Perch'd on the dew-befpangled spray,
His varied note the woodland cheer'd ;
From morn to eve his jocund lay
Around the peasant's cot was heard.
But ah! in vain he rais'd his fong,
With callous heart and jaundic'd eye
A tyrant plann'd the mighty wrong,
And robb'd him of his liberty.
Snatch'd from that dear delightful state,
Where pleasure fmil'd the live-long day;
Torn from his fond, his faithful mate,
And borne to unknown scenes away.
No tender partner fhar'd his woes,
Nor cheer'd his bondage with a smile;
Day after day fucceffive rofe,
But nought his anguifh to beguile.
Within a gilded cage immur'd,
The blaze of fplendour woo'd his fenfe;
But his indignant mind abjur'd
The poor, the paltry recompenfe.
The fenfe of joy no more to know,
His much lov'd haunts no more to fee:
His trembling twitter thrill'd with woe,
His outrag'd heart with agony.
Yet think not, whofoe'er thou art,
That pity beam'd on ne'er a breaft;
One beauteous maid, with feeling heart,
His daily wants each day redrefs'd.
Oh! had the lefs, fweet trembler, fear'd
The fruit of bondage* to relieve,
Then had this dirge been yet unheard,
And the her lofs had fail'd to grieve.
By danger rous'd, yet half afraid
Her fofter lily hand to trust,
She fought another's bolder aid!-
That aid confign'd him to the duft.
With rude and inexperienc'd grasp,
The tuneful warbler as it prefs'd,
Inftant a short and breathless grasp,
The agony of death confefs'd.
Now foaring far away-the mind
No more its wonted anguifh knows,
And here the dust to duft refign'd,
In flumbers fweet forgets its woes.
In the ftate of nature the talons of the feathered tribe are worn down by constantly treading upon the earth. The increafed length which they acquire in the cage, and which it is frequently neceffary to fhorten, to prevent the bird's being hung up by the heels, is the effect of the unnatural ftate in which they are placed.
And can't thou, reader, then bewail
The broken bond, the captive free?
And can't thou cease the hour to hail,
Which gave him back his liberty?
And thou, fweet maid, whofe rending figh
The anguish of thy foul befpeaks;
Learn hence to wipe thy weeping eye,
And footh thy bofom ere is breaks.
ONOUR's fought by human kind,
And reigns triumphant in the mind;
But, ah! how many lose the prize
Because true honour they defpife;
They feek for honour, deep imbru'd
In widow's tears or human blood,
Forget that warlike honour must
"Eat-in their bloody fword like ruft:"
Such honour ne'er fhall gain applaufe
By God's divine and righteous laws;
Where VIRTUE, that celeftial maid,
To honour lends her cheerful aid,
There BRIGHTEST honour may be gain'd,
And LASTING GLORY be obtain'd,
́NHEEDED emblem of the mind!
When weeping twilight's fhadows close,
I wander where thy mazes wind,
And watch thy current as it flows:
Now dimpling, filent, calm, and even;
Now brawling as in anger driven
Now ruffl'd, foaming, madly wild,
Like the vex'd fenfe of SORROW's hopeless child!
Befide thy furface now I fee,
Reflected in thy placid breast,
Flush'd fummer's painted progeny-
In fmiles and fweets redundant dreft;
They flaunt their forms of varying dye,
To greet thee, as thou passest by--
And bending fip thy ample wave,
And in its lucid lapse their bosoms lave,
While on thy tranquil breast appears
No freezing gale, no paffing storm,
The fun-beam's vivid luftre cheers,
And feems thy filv'ry bed to warm:
The thronging birds, with am'rous play,
Sweep with their wings thy glitt'ring way;
And o'er thy banks fond zephyr blows,
To dress with sweets the fmalleft flow'r that grow3.
But when destroying blasts arise,
And clouds o'erfhade thy with'ring bounds, When fwift the eddying foliage flies,
And loud the ruthless torrent founds;
Thy dimpling charms are feen no more,
Thy minstrel's caroll'd praife is o'er-
While not a flowret, funny-dreft,
Courts the chill'd current of thy alter'd breast.
Such is the HUMAN MIND! ferene
When FORTUNE's glowing hour appears!
And lovely, as thy margin green,
Are buds of HOPE-which FANCY rears:
Then ADULATION, like the flow'r,
Bends, as it greets us on our way;
But, in the dark and ftormy hour,
Leaves us, unmark'd, to trace our TROUBLED WAY!
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