While some perhaps their endless union date,
In the dim morning of this embryo state.
Oh! May we meet upon those happy plains!
And there unite in never ceasing strains.

To ALVIRA.

FRIEND of my soul, thou nearest to my heart,
Part of myself—almost my dearest part;

What can I write? what language can I use?
To soften grief, or one sweet smile diffuse,
On that dear face, where melancholy's gloom,
Has cropt the roses in their vernal bloom?
I see, I feel, I count thy numerous wrongs,
Thou hapless victim of malicious tongues:
Not virgin innocence secures thy fame;

Tho' unprotected youth might some indulgence claim.

Look up, my friend, to heaven direct thine eyes; A brighter prospect opens in the skies!

Secure a place in that divine abode,

And tread the path our blessed Saviour trode.

*

Patient in suffering, ready to forgive,

Resign'd to heaven, in meek complacence live;
And look to God for those divine supplies
Of comfort, which an envious world denies.
Trust not to man in all his flower and pride;
Tho' truth and honour in his breast reside:
His breath is in his nostrils; now he's thine;
And now perhaps thou must to death resign
Him who so lately all thy soul possess'd,
And took the place of God within thy breast.
Oh! Junius, noble, generous, and sincere,
At thought of thee I can't restrain the tear!
To think how many circumstances join,
To rend a heart so great and good as thine;
A heart that's fraught with duty to thy sire,
Warm'd by love's gentlest and most fervent fire:
Love, duty, interest, hold continual strife;
It bleeds to wound the parent, or the wife.
What but religion's soul-sustaining power,
Could comfort thee in this distressful hour!

But thou hast felt its influence, thou hast known

A present God, and claim'd him for thy own. Be stedfast still, thy constancy maintain;

Thus thou advis'dst, and I return again

The same advice; 'tis friendship's best employ,
T'encourage in the way to endless joy.
And thou, Alvira, partner of his life,
His earthly treasure, his elected wife,
From the same source thy consolation bring ;
Drink deeply at the same eternal spring;
In his best pursuits with thy Junius join,
And make his noblest entertainment thine.

J

SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF MRS. S. M-.-.

WHILE true benevolence has power to raise Grateful emotions in the human mind;

How many hearts must vibrate at her praise, Who knew, by sweet experience, she was kind!

Unto the poor the muses may appeal, Who in her substance did so largely share; Her kind attentions these must ever feel,

Must own her bounty, and her tender care :

Their nurse in sickness, and in doubts their

guide,

In all extremities a certain friend;

For unrestrain❜d by indolence or pride,

To rich and poor her goodness did extend.

Her time, her health, her talents, were em ploy'd

In active services to human kind.

She's gone, alas! and what a dreary void," A mournful vacuum, has she left behind!

But, through the bounty of indulgent heaven, Her spirit is transfus'd into her race;

To whom a more enlarged sphere is given; A larger heart no frame did e'er embrace.

ON THE DEATH OF MRS. S. T.

'TIS the sigh of parting nature: Gently she resigns her breath'!*

How compos'd is every feature, Placed in the arms of death!

Now the mourner is released

From a world of sin and woes,
Where her tender heart was pierced
By many deep and bitter throes.

Fair and cloudless rose her morning;
Love and joy their influence spread;
But her noon was spent in mourning
O'er the dying and the dead.

First she wept a separation

From her kind and faithful mate;
But derived consolation,
In her lonely widow'd state,

From the duty and affection

Of a fair and virtuous race:

To give their minds a right direction, And improve each native grace,

Furnish'd laudable employment To engage the passing hours:

'Twas both duty and enjoyment

To draw forth their latent powers.

Now she sees them flourish round her, Lovely, innocent, and gay;

Think what cruel pangs must wound her To behold their breathless clay !