His cheeks, where love and beauty glow'd,

A deadly pale o'ercaft;

So fades the fresh rofe in his prime,

Before the northern blast.

The parents now, with late remorfe,
Hung o'er his dying bed,

And weary'd Heav'n with fruitless pray'rs,
And fruitless forrows fhed.

'Tis paft, he cry'd, but if your fouls

Sweet mercy yet can move,

Let thefe dim eyes once more behold
What they must ever love.

She came; his cold hand foftly touch'd,
And bath'd with many a tear ;
Faft falling o'er the pimrofe pale
So morning dews appear.

But oh! his fifter's jealous care

(A cruel fifter the !)

Forbad what EMMA came to fay,
My EDWIN, live for me.

Now

Now homeward as the hopeless went,

The church-yard path along,

The blaft blew cold, the dark owl scream'd
Her lover's funeral fong.

Amid the filent gloom of night,
Her ftarting fancy found

In every bush his hovering fhade,
His groan in every found.

Alone, appall'd, thus had fhe pafs'd

The vifionary vale,

When lo! the death-bell fmote her ear,

Sad founding in the gale.

Just then the reach'd, with trembling steps,
Her aged mother's door;

He's gone, fhe cry'd, and I fhall fee
That angel face no more.

I feel, I feel this breaking heart

Beat high against my fide:

From her white arm down funk her head;

She shiver'd, figh’d, and dy’d.

ODE TO WISDOM. *

HE folitary bird of night

ΤΗ

Thro' the thick shades now wings his flight, And quits his time-fhook tow'r :

Where, fhelter'd from the blaze of day,

In philofophic gloom he lay

Beneath his ivy bow'r.

With joy I hear the folemn found,

Which midnight echoes waft around,

And fighing gales repeat.

Fav'rite of Pallas! I attend,
And, faithful, to thy fummons bend
At Wisdom's awful feat.

She loves the cool, the filent eve,
Where no false fhews of life deceive,
Beneath the lunar ray.

Here

*

By Miss Carter.

Here folly drops each vain difguife,
Nor fport her gaily coloured dyes,
As in the beam of day.

O Pallas! Queen of ev'ry art,

That glads the fense and mends the heart,
Bleft fource of purer joys:
In ev'ry form of beauty bright,
That captivates the mental fight
With pleasure and furprize :

At thy unfpotted fhrine I bow;
Attend thy modeft fuppliant's vow,
That breathes no wild defires:
But taught by thy unerring rules,
To fhun the fruitlefs wifh of fools,
To nobler views afpires.

Not Fortune's gem, Ambition's plume,
Nor Cytherea's fading bloom,

Be objects of my pray'r:
Let Av'rice, Vanity, and Pride,
Thofe envy'd glittering toys, divide

The dull rewards of care.

To me thy better gifts impart,
Each moral beauty of the heart,
By ftudious thoughts refin'd:

For Wealth the fmiles of glad Content;
For Pow'r, its ampleft beft extent,
An empire o'er the mind.

When Fortune drops her gay parade,
When Pleasure's tranfient rofes fade,
And wither in the tomb;
Unchang'd is thy immortal prize,
Thy ever-verdant laurels rife
In undecaying bloom.

By thee protected, I defy

The coxcomb fneer, the ftupid lye

Of ignorance and spite; Alike condemn the rigid fool,

And all the pointed ridicule.

Of undifcerning wit.

From envy, hurry, noife, and ftrife,
The dull impertinence of life,

In thy retreat I rest;

Pursue