It cannot thaw death's icy chill,
It cannot wake the flumbers pale.
Still penfive mourner let it flow,
Spread forrow's langour o'er thy face;
Thy charms thus foft'ned, fweeter glow,
And from affliction borrow grace.
Lamented shade! tho' pleasure's hour
To thee, yet fcarce begun, was o'er,
Tho' on thy cheek youth's vernal flower
Juft bloom'd-and bloom'd to close no more.
Still does thy fate my envy move,
Thy fortune friendly ftill appears,
Alive, bleft with thy Fanny's love,
And dead, lamented with her tears.
* To Mrs C, on her defiring to fee some of my
RGE, urge no more the vain request,
Refolv'd to fhun the alarming teft;
I'll prudent to thy fight refufe,
The weak productions of my mufe;
Soon wou'd thy penetrating eye,
Defects unnumber'd there defcry;
No beauties note, my feeble lays
Wou'd claim thy pity, not thy praise.
For fhou'd'ft thou fee that there I aim
To catch imagination's flame;
Triumphantly to move along,
With all the pomp of lofty fong;
Alas! with fuch fuperior fway,
Thy happier genius wings its way;
So bright thy Fancy's given to fhine,
Thou'lt pity fure a mufe like mine.
Or humbler fhou'd I ftrive to gain,
Applause from humour's fportive ftrain,
In playful style attempt to please,
And aim at elegance and ease;
Alas! what can I thus fubmit?
Such vigour points thy livelier wit;
Such native graces still refine,
Thou'lt pity fure a wit like mine.
But should my penfive lays disclose
Some mournful lover's hidden woes;
The troubled mind, the bleeding heart,
Transfix'd with paffions keenest dart;
While, curft, he views his fair one's charms,
With rapture crown another's arms,
Alas! with hopeless grief he'd pine,
Thou would'st not pity woes like mine.
Slave to Celia's charms, I faw
My fond affection fruitless prove;
No more fhall Venus give me law,
No more O Cupid! will I love.
Gg
Yet I was born to feel thy dart,
But now the dear delufion's o'er,
Thy reign is gone, my foolish heart
Would love too much-l'll love no more;
The godhead cried "what fervile fear!
"Weak mortal fee thy foul to move,
"Three graces joined in one appear"
-Child 'tis in vain-I will not love.
When lo! my Sylvia's radiant form
Sudden my dazzled eyes explore;
She comes with beauty's every charm,
But comes too late-I'll love no more.
Yes, there refides each power to please,
There graces o'er each feature rove,
There wit and temper, fenfe and ease,
But all are vain-I will not love.
What? fhall my rivals own their fire,
And proftrate at her feet adore,
Whilft I-why ftill I'll but admire,
I'll furely, furely-love no more.
When Cupid thus his purpose prest,
"Thy fenfe and reas'ning I approve;
"Admire then, and in fafety rest;
"For admiration-is not love.
"What tho' ten thoufand graces glow,
"Such as ne'er met thy eyes before;
"Tho' beauty, fenfe-all these you know,
"Are nothing, when-one loves no more.
"Then fee the nymph, devoid of fear,
"Myfelf all danger will remove;
"Each moment whifpering in your ear,
"At least remember not to love."
How cou'd I truft fuch hidden guile,
Wou'd Cupid leffen Cupid's power?
Malicious imp! I faw him fmile,
Whene'er I faid-I'll love no more.
E'en from that day to danger blind,
Heedlefs to meet
fate I move,›
I fee the charmer, but I find
To fee thee is-Alas to love. -
ADDRESSED to MR G. PICKERING.
O me when life's alluring fcenes were new,' And hope her magic glafs upheld to youth, The sweet perspective; how it charmed my view, It promis'd blifs in love—in friendship truth. To each fond scheme it promis'd fure fuccefs, Health to purfue, and patience to attain; I deem'd each hour beyond the laft would blefs, And pleasure still extend her fmiling reign. Experience foon was nigh; -th' illufion's o'er, And all my darling aims abortive prove: Early my heart is deftin'd to deplore, Friendship betray'd, and unrequited love. My wearied fpirits fink, and palid care Has fix'd his refidence upon my cheek; Calling on comfort, answer'd by despair, Through life's drear wildernefs my way I feek.
I've feen a flower which at Aurora's, call,
Burft into bloom and gaily rear'd its head ;
Its rife all nature seem'd to hail, and all
The youthful grace of spring around was spread.
But foon came on the fultry hour of day,
Blafting whate'er was promis'd by the morn;
Th' unhappy plant foon felt the parching ray,
And loft its early bloom and droop'd forlorn.
When lo! their genial fuccour to impart,
I faw the dews of night propitious come;
Thus far'd it with the flower; my drooping heart
Pants for the night eternal of the tomb.
LINCOLN'S INN,
JULY 25, 1786.
A LETTER, from a CLERGYMAN of the Church ef England, to a FEMALE QUAKER. With her ANSWER. (By defire)
ARK, how the facred thunder rends they
"Repent, and be baptiz'd,"-Chrift's herald "Repent, and be baptiz'd,-confenting Heaven replies.
And can Lavania, unaffected, hear
This awful meffage echoing in her ear?
Will my Lavania, unconverted, prove
Rebel to God, and faithlefs unto love?
Say, fhall a parent's abfolute command
The mighty voice of God himself withstand?
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