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Was now no more. Enjoyment paft,
The savage hungerd for the feast;
But (as we find in human race,
A makk conceals the villain's face)
Justice must authorize the treat;
Till then he long'd, but durft not eat.
As forth he walk’d, in queft of prey,
The hunters met him on the way;
Fear wings-his flight; the marth he fought;
The snuffing dogs are set at fault.
His ftomach baulk'd, now hunger gnaw's,
Howling, he grinds his empty jaws ;
Food must be had, and lamb is righ;
His maw invokes the fraudfal lie.
Is this (difembling rage, he cry'd)
The gentle virtue of a bride?
'That, leagu'd with man's destroying race,
She sets her husband for the chace?
By treach'ry prompts the noisy hound
To {cent his footsteps on the ground?
Thou trait'ress vile! for this thy blood
Shall. glut my rage, and dye the wood !
So saying, on the lamb he flies,
Beneath his jaws the victim dies.

THE

THE STORY

OF L A VINI A.

By Mr. THOMSON.

SOON
OON as the morning trembles o'er the sky,

And, unperceiv'd, unfolds the spreading day :
Before the ripened field the reapers ftand,
In fair array ; each by the lass he loves,
To bear the rougher part, and mitigate
By nameless gentle offices her toil.
At once they ftoop and swell the lufty fheaves :
While thro' their chearful band the rural talk,"
The rural scandal, and the rural jest,
Fly harmless, to deceive the tedious time,
And steal unfelt the sultry hours away.
Behind the master walks, builds up the locks;
And conscious, glancing oft on every side
His fated eye, feels his heart heave with joy.
The gleaners spread around, and here and there,
Spike after spike, their scanty harvest pick.
Be not too narrow, husbandmen! but fling
From the fuli fheaf, with charitable stealth,
The liberal handful. Think, oh grateful think!
How good the God of Harvest is to you ;
Who pours abundance o’er your flowing fields ;

1

While these unhappy partners of your kind'
Wide-hover round you, like the fowls of heaven,
And as their humble dole. The various turns
Of fortune ponder ; that your sons may want
What now, with hard reluctance, faint, ye give.

The lovely young Lavinia once had friends ;
Aad fortune smild deceitful on her birth.
For, in her helpless years depriv'd of all,
Of every stay, fave innocence and Heaven,
She, with her widow'd mother, feeble, old,
And poor, liv'd in a cottage, far retir'd
Among the windings of a woody vale;
By folitude and deep surrounding shades,
But more by bashful modesty, conceaid.
Together thus they shunn'd the cruel fcorn
Which virtue, funk to poverty, would meet
From giddy passion and low-minded pride :
Almost on nature's common bounty fed ;
Like the gay birds that sung them to repose,
Content, and careless of to-morrow's fare.
Her form was fresher than the morning rose,
When the dew wets its leaves ; unitain'd, and pure,
As is the lily, or the mountain snow.
The modell virtues mingled in her eyes,
Siill on the ground dejecied, darting all
Thưi: humid beams into the blooming fowers :

Os when the mournful tale her mother cold,
Of what her faithless fortune promis'd once,
Thrill'd in her thought, they, like the dewy Aar
Of evening, lone in tears. A native grace
Sat fair-proportion'd on her polish'd limbs,
Veild in a simple robe, their best attire,
Beyond the

pomp of dress; for loveliness
Needs not the foreign aid of ornament,
But is when unadorn'd adorn'd the most.
Thoughtless of beauty, he was beauty's self.
Reclufe amid the close-embowering woods,
As in the hollow breast of Appenine,
Beneath the shelter of encircling hills,
A myrtle rises, far from human eye,
And breathes its balmy fragrance o'er the wild ;
So flourish'a blooming, and unseen by all,
The sweet Lavinia ; till, at length, compellid
By Atrong necessity's fupreme command,
With smiling patience in her looks, she went
To glean Palemon's fields. The pride of swain's
Palemon was, 'the generous, and the sich;
Who led the rural life in all its joy
And elegance, such as Arcadian song
Transmits from ancient uncorrupted times;
When tyrant custom had not shackled man,
But free to follow nature was the mode.

H:

He then, his fancy with autumnal scenes
Amuing, chanc'd befide his reaper train
To walk, when soor Lavinia drew his eye ;
Unconscious of her power, and turning quick
With unaffected blushes from his gaze:
He saw her charming, but he saw not half
The charms her down-cast modesty conceal'd.
That very moment love and chase desire
Sprung in his bosom, to himfelf unknown.
For fill the world prevail'd, and its dread laugh,
Which scarce the firm philofopher can scorn,
Should his heart own a gleaner in the field :
And thus in secret to his foul he figh'J.

What pity! that so delicate a form,
“ By beauty kindled, where enlivening sense
“ And more than vulgar goodness seem to dwell,
" Should be devoted to the rude embrace
“ Of some indecent crown! She looks, mcthinks,

Of old Acafo's line; and to my mind • Recalls that patron of my happy life, " From whom my liberal fortune took its rise ; “ Now to the dust gone down ; his houses, lands, “ And once fair-spreading family, disialvid. ri 'Tis said that in some lone.obscure retreat,

Urg'd by remembrance fad, and decent pride, 5 Far from those scenes which knew their better daye,

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