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Thus, while no founds, but murmurs on the shore,
Engag'd attention, or disturb'd repofe,
A plaintive voice was heard amid the roar,
And these complainings from the voice arofe :-
"Liften, O Night! whofe all-attentive ear
"The tale of forrow ne'er refus'd to know;
"Whofe pearly dew-drops fpeak the conftant tear,
"That ftarts fpontaneous at the note of woe.
"And thou, O Hudfon! dreary scene of death,
"In mournful cadence let thy waters roll;
"Thy waters, which beheld my ftifled breath,

And faw the anguifh of my ftruggling foul.
"Ah! cruel fate! to blaft the blooming flower,
"Which juft difclos'd its beauties to the day;
"To blaft all hope in one difaft'rous hour,
"And fnatch from hov'ring joys my life away.
"All nature fmiï'd, with countenance ferene,

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Upon my days, which in glad tenor mov'd' ;
Youth, health, and beauty, painted all the scene,
"And love had promis'd bliss to me—who lov❜d.
"Waiting, with anxious hope, the flumb'ring wind,
"To waft me quickly with propitions gale,
"I gave to rapture all my ardent mind,

"And bade gay fancy o'er my fears prevail.
"Ah, joys unfolid! ah, ye fleeting charms!
"Which paint delufion in this world below!
While prefent pleafures prefs to court my arms,
"Fate fteps between, and deals the destin'd blow.
"Plung'd in the deep-all human help is vain ;
"In vain to heaven I raise a feeble cry;
"I fink, I ftruggle, rife, and fink again
"Eternal darkness shrouds my faded eye.
"There lies my corfe, to man its place unknown,
"Beneath the washing of the frequent wave;
"Nor hears my anguish, nor my nightly moan,
"But fleeps fecurely in its wat'ry grave.
"Ye fhores! be witness to my hopeless woe;
"Ye waters! tell it in your fad'ning roar;
"And, ye dread winds! in plaintive fury blow
"Your loudest notes, fuch mis'ry to deplore.
"Frequent as night returns enwrapt in fhade,
"On this fad ftream my airy form fhall float;
"My grief the diftant caverns fhall pervade,
"And echo lengthen out the dismal note.”
Thus fang the ghoft, and glided in my fight;
I knew his form, 'twas Beldewain, the young-
I faw th' unhappy, by the lunar light,

Nor could I check the effort of my tongue.
VOL. III. No. 10.

H

"My

"My friend, my Beidewain!" but inftant flew
The woful fhade, and fcap'd my eager eye-
My eye turns quick, the fpectre to purfue;
But lo! he's gone, I heard his farewell figh.
October 16th, 1792.

R

PHILON.

The OLD MAN'S FAREWELL.
EMOTE from cities, in a flow'ry vale

Of fweet contentment, have I spent my life;
Free from the noifome air which kings inhale,
An happy ftranger to the ftatefman's ftrife.

There, blefs'd with competence, (I wish'd no more)
My days and nights ferenely paft away;

A little flock fed near my humble door,

And thrushes warbled from the diftant fpray.

But time no more fuch happy days shall fend→→
Youth an ACASTO's cheek no more shall bloom;
At fetting fun fhall all my forrows end,

And I, forgotten, flumber in the tomb.

I once was young; then with the cheerful lark
I rofe, each pleasing labour to begin;
But fpring has left me, and the vital spark
Of life's dim taper scarcely glows within.
Farewell ye rural feenes, whofe loss I mourn→
Ye fweet retreats of innocence fincere→→
Where fmiling fpring proclaim'd its first return,
And blooming fummer parted with a tear.
Oft have I kifs'd thy gently-fpreading green,
And gather'd rofes from thy flow'ry mead;
Where bleating flocks and lowing herds convene,
And on the fweeteft buds of nature feed.
But, peaceful fhades, I leave you all behind;
Ye ftreams go murmur to another's woes;
No more on your sweet banks, at eve reclin'd,
Shall your foft tinklings lull me to repofe.
In youth I wander'd like the happy bird,
Wherever roving fancy bade me fly;
But youthful blifs, alas! too long defer'd-
A wretched ftranger I unpitied die!

No partner now to cheer my lonely way
Through the laft windings of this world of care;

No lifping child have I to with my stay,

Nor one kind friend to drop a parting tear.

Then youth take warning, and in feafon pay
The tribute due to Hymen's fhrine of blifs;
Select a partner for life's rugged way,

Nor truft your pleasures to a stolen kiss.

Farewell

Farewell my gen'rous dog, my only friend,
Companion of my joys and carès adieu;
Down the fteep precipice of death I bend→→→→
My days are paft-my minutes are but few.
Come, faithful TRAY, receive my last embrace;
And when I flumber in the filent grave,
In mem'ry of thy master guard the place;
"Tis all, poor dog, my dying wishes crave.
Thus fpoke the fage, while Fate awhile delay'd,
To let ACASTO make his laft requeft:
From his dim fight the well-known objects fade,
And life's pale flame forfook his troubled breast.

THE DRONE.]

MORNING: A RHAPSODY.

ED by the hours, the roiy Morning fprings,
Far from the balmy Eaft, on rofy wings;
While yet with plumage pearl'd with glittering dew,
The foaring larks their mattin fongs renew;
Lead the full choir which bail the rifing ray,
And pour their mufic on the fmiles of Day:
The blufh diffused boundless to the fight,
Now languishes in brighter floods of light,
Whofe genial influence makes the flowers unfold,
And gilds the mountains and the fields

For lol in majesty atray'd and crown, with gold:
With pointed glories wide encircling round,
As firft in magnitude among the spheres,
The Sun, bright fountain of the Day, appears;
Thro' tracts immenfe of world-involving fkies,
And swifter far than the wing'd lightning flies,
O'er the reflecting deep his radiance fpreads,
And far and wide the broad effulgence fheds.
Smit with his beams, Earth loud exults and fings,
Laugh all the fields, and all the forell rings;
Smile the green hills, rejoicing too the vale,
Yields all its flowery fragrance to the gale;
The rough fea fhouts beneath th' enkindling fky,
And foams its waves, and lifts its voice on high;
While smoother streams clance the quivering ray,
Murmur a fong, and cheerful glide away.
Smit with his beams, the blooming Maia fpreads
Her bofom fweets, and her ambrofia fheds;
From all the beauteous progeny of flowers
That variegate the beds, or deck the bowers,
The early ray, the incense breath inhales,
Or from the vernal fcenes, or wanton gales,
Which whispering foft, their wavy plumes difplay,
Fan round the flowers, and waft their sweets away:

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In vain the fond fufpiring wantons rove,
To waft the balmy gifts of Flora's love;
The Sun imbibes the odours on their wings,
And drinks of Nectar from a thousand springs.
On Earth's green mantle fee the pearling dew,
Prefent their minute glories to the view;
In lucid drops, depict with various dyes,
And trembling with the smallest breath that flies,
Given by the fine difparted beam, to shine

More bright than diamonds sparkling from the minę:
Hence from the glaffy blades, or flowery leaves,
His daily tribute the bright Sun receives;
Abforb'd by him, on vaprous pinions gay,
They rife and veil the fervid blaze of day;
Then wafte in breezes, or low low'ring round,
In fhowers defcend and cool the parched ground.
These are thy works, BENIGNITY IMMENSE!
Which point thy wisdom to our bounded fenfe;
Which intimate abstract of goodness thine,
And beauty borrow'd from a fource divine,
In each process of Nature's hand we fee,
Results tho' various, ftill gradate to THEE.

ROLLANDO.

SELECTED POETR Y.

ELEGY by Mrs. CHARLOTTE SMITH.
ARGUMENT.

This Elegy is written on the fuppofition, that an indigent young woman bat been addreffed by the fon of a wealthy yoeman, who refenting his attach ment, had driven him from home, and obliged him to have recourse for sub fiftence to the occupation of a pilot, in which, attempting to fave a vessel a diftrefs, he perifhed.

The father dying, a tomb is fuppofed to be erected to his memory in the churchyard of Middleton, a village on the margin of the fea in Sussex: and whil a tempel is gathering, the unfortunate young woman comes thither, and courting the fame death as had robbed her of her lover, fhe awaits its vie lence, and is at length overwhelmed by its waves.

"D

ARK gathering clouds involve the threat'ning skies,
The fea heaves conicious of th' impending gloom,

Deep hollow murmurs from the cliffs arife,

They come the fpirits of the tempeft come.

Oh! may fuch terrors mark the approaching night,
As reign'd on that thefe ftreaming eyes deplore!
Fiafh ye red fires of heaven with fatal light,
And with conflicting winds ye waters roar.

Load

Loud and more loud ye foaming billows burst!
Ye warring elements more fiercely rave!
'Till the wide waves o'erwhelm the spot accurft,
Where ruthless av'rice finds a quiet grave."

Thus, with clafp'd hands, wild looks, and ftreaming hair,
While fhrieks of horror broke her trembling fpeech,
A wretched maid—the victim of despair,

Survey'd the threat'ning ftorm and defart beach.
Then to the tomb, where now the father flept,
Whofe rugged nature bade her forrows flow,
Frantic the turn'd-and beat her breaft and wept,
Invoking vengeance on the duft below.

"Lo! rifing there above each humbler heap,
Yon cypher'd ftones his name and wealth relate,
Who gave his fon remorfelefs to the deep,

While I, his living victim, curse my fate.
Oh! my loft love! no tomb is plac'd for thee,
That may to ftrangers eyes thy worth impart;
Thou haft no grave, but in the ftormy fea,

And no memorial but this breaking heart.
Forth to the world, a widow'd wanderer driven,
I pour to winds and waves the unheeded tear,
Try with vain effort to submit to heaven,

And fruitless call on him who cannot hear.
Oh! might I fondly clafp him once again,
While o'er my head th' infuriate billows pour,
Forget in Death this agonizing pain,

And feel his father's cruelty no more.

Part raging waters, part, and fhew beneath,
In
your dread caves his pale and mangled form,
Now while the demons of despair and death,
Ride on each blaft, and urge the howling storm!

Lo by the lightning's momentary blaze,
I fee him rife the whitening waves above,
No longer fuch as when in happier days,
He gave th' enchanted hours to me and love.
Such as when daring the enchafed fea,

And courting dangerous toil he often said,
That every peril, one foft fmile from me,

One look of fpeechlefs tenderness o'er paid.
But dead, disfigured, while between the roar

Of the loud waves his accents pierce mine ear,
And feem to fay-ah! wretch, delay no more,
But come, unhappy mourner-meet me here.
Yet, powerful Fancy, bid the phantom ftay,
Still let me hear him!-'tis already past ;
Along the waves, his fhadow glides away,
I lofe his voice amid the deaf'ning blast.

Ah!

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