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" His aged widow and his daughter live,
Whom yet my fruitless search could never find. “ Romantic wish! would this the daughter were com
When, frie enquiring, from herself he found She was the same, the daughter of his friend, Of bountiful Acasto; who can speak The mingled passions that surpriz'd his heart, And thro' his nerves in fhivering transport ran? Then blaz'd his smother'd flame, avowd, and bold;' And as he view'd her, ardent, o'er and o'er, Love, gratitude, and pity wept at once. Confus'd, and frightened at his sudden tears, Her rising beauties Aluth'd a higher bloom, As thus Palemon, pallionate, and just, Pour'd out the pious rapture of his soul.
“ And art thou then Acaito's dear remains ? *si She, whom my refless gratitude has fought
So long in vain ? O heavens! the very fame, “ The softened image of my noble friend.; “: Alive his every look, his every feature, “ More elegantly touch'd. Sweeter than spring? « Thou sole surviving blossom from the root « That nourilh'd up my fortune! Say, ah where, ". In what requester'd desart, haft thou drawn "The kindest aspect of delighted Heaven? “ Into fach beauty spread, and blown so fair:;
“ Tho' poverty's cold wind, and crushing rain, “ Beat keen, and heavy, on thy tender year3 ? “ O let me now, into a richer foil, “ Transplant thee safe! where vernal funs, and thowers, “ Difuse their warmest, largest influence; ." And of my garden be the pride, and joy! “ Ill it befits thee, oh it ill befits “ Acafto's daughter, his whose open flores, " Tho' vaft, were little to his ampler heart, “. The father of a country, thus to pick “ The very refuse of those harvelt-fields, " Which from his bountcous friend hip I enjoy. “ Then throw that ihainiful pittance from thy hand, “ But ill apply'd to such a rugged talk ; " The fields, the master, all, my fair, are thine ; “ If to the various blessings which thy house “ Has on ine lavish'd, thou wilt add that bliss, 6. That dearest bliss, the power of blessing thee!",
Here ceas'd the youth: yer Aill his speaking eye Express'd the sacred triumph of his foul, With conscious virtue, gratitude, ar.d love, Above the vulgar joy divinely rais'J. Nor waited he reply. Won by the charm Of goodness irresistible, and all In sweet disorder loit, she bluh'd consent, The nesvs immediate to her mother brought,
While, pierc'd with anxious thought, she pind away
ADVICE TO A LA D Y.
By the Honourable Mr. N.
HE counsels of a friend, Belinda, hear,
Too roughly kind to please a lady's ear;
Hard is the fortune that your sex attends ;
What is your sex's earliest, latest care,
And yet how few have learnt, when this is giv'n,
Nor make to dang’rous wit a vain pretence,
Be fill superior to your sex's arts,
Be good yourself, nor think another's shame