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TO.

ON HER BIRTH-DAY, JAN.

1808.

Amid each

WHILE Hope half sunk beneath successive fears
Scarce mark'd the colour of approaching years;
While chill Suspense, and varying Cares represt
The dawning visions of this anxious breast;
pang of absence and delay
Still was I wont to hail thy natal day;
Still for thy peace I pour'd the fervent prayer,
And on that wish suspended half my care
-And shall I now, when fears no more annoy
Lost in the sweet reality of joy;

When blest beyond the lot of man I see

My every

Say, shall I brood indifferent o'er that fate, wish at length obtain'd-in thee; From which alone my bliss must take its date?

Behold

unmov'd thy natal morn appear,

Nor bless the hour that owns a birth so dear?
No-'till the vital spark shall cease to glow,
For thee th' unvary'd, heartfelt prayer shall flow-
O dearest wish of this unchanging heart,
O more than power or riches could impart,
Source of each pleasure fav'ring heaven can give,
"For whom, and whom alone I ask to live!"

Long, very long, may this auspicious morn
Rich in accumulated joys return;

Rich in the purest joys that life bestows,
That love awakens, or that friendship knows.
May rosy health with cheering hand diffuse
Warm o'er thy cheek her animating hues,
Encreasing years thy sum of bliss encrease,
And crown thy latest age with smiles of hope and
peace!

Yet should just Heaven a different lot ordain,
(For life has often some alloys of pain!)
Should hast'ning age, or malady oppress,
And mar our dreams of social happiness:-
-In every worldly ill, in every care,
This breast shall ever feel an equal share;
Shall make its greatest bliss, its highest pride,
Thy joys to heighten, and thy griefs divide.

W. P.

TO MRS. T....

ON READING HER BEAUTIFUL POEM OF PAYCHE OR THE LEGEND OF LOVE.

WH

HEN feeling, taste, and genius all conspire
To claim the undisputed meed of praise,
In vain, where all must envy or admire,
The feeble tribute of applause we raise.

For who shall paint her worth, whose matchless mind,
Warm with the elegance of classic lore,
By reason strengthen'd, and by love refin'd,
Divides the palm which Spenser own'd before?

Blest page! where, whilst the varied graces shine,
Fair Virtue wears her most attractive hues,
Where glowing Wisdom stamps th' impressive line,
And Truth entwines the flowers which Fancy strews.

'Tis thine to bid incautious virtue fly

The paths, where fell deceits in ambush move, Ambition's lure, Suspicion's venom'd eye;— -And prize the calmer sweets of social love.

For thee, sweet muse, whose artless strains display
Each chaste affection of the female heart,
Thine are the joys which never can decay,

The joys which virtue, science, truth impart.

These, while the lighter pleasures of the hour
A sickly gleam of dubious rapture cast,
Shall yield their soft, consolatory power
To bless the future, and endear the past.

EPIGRAM.

FROM OWEN. LIB. V. EP. VI.

ORPHEUS, his wife to snatch from Hell,

Its utmost horrors brav'd;

But never yet did Poet tell
Of Man by Woman sav'd.

E*

W. P.

EPIGRAM.

To lady Sarah's t'other night

I went an hour to spend;
When, seizing by my button tight,
Thus spoke a country friend.

"Who is that man, round whom appears

Such an admiring crowd,

Who catch his tale with eager ears,

And often laugh aloud?

"How ready every mortal looks

With bows and smiles to greet him!

By all the good and holy books

They seem as if they'd eat him!

"He has some charm! What's his condition}

Come tell me, if you know it.

Say, is he traveller, politician,

Wit, orator, or poet ?"

"No, he is more, far more, than these,
For they would vainly try

With all their powers combin'd to please,
If he were standing by!

"His praises many a tongue shall swell,
His merit so abounds!

He is!" "What is he? quickly tell!"
"_Worth five score thousand pounds!"

R. A. D.

FAITH AND AFFECTION *.

FAST by the shores of England lay
The ship securely moor'd;
Nor fear'd the seamen, night or day,
The loudest winds that roar'd:
Carousing, and from care all free,
For all their native land might see.

But far across the ocean borne,
With seamen from his home,
Ceas'd not the African to mourn
His idle wish to roam;

For well, no friend nor home, he knew,
That he on England's shores might view.

He, thoughtless once of future time,
And woes he ne'er had known,
With strangers for a distant clime-
-A boy-forsook his own;
And in his floating new abode
Over the seas delighted rode.

*The circumstances of these lines were stated in the newspapers and magazines about a year ago. The boy came from the Cape of Good Hope in one of his Majesty's ships the Zealand, then lying at the Nore, as servant to an Officer on board, and was known to be possessed with the faith of his country.

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