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THE DECAY OF FLOWERS.

you,

Die, blooming flowers ! as if ye ne'er bad been;
Die, and relinquish this empurpled scene :
Die, and in due succession, in your stead,
Others shall bloom, and equal fragrance shed:
Like you, bereav'd of every living grace,
Like in every clime, the human race
Shall perish in succession.--"No!" I hear
Reagon announce,

in accent soft and clear, Tun'd to the warbling of those heav'nly strings With whose sweet strain the sapphire region rings When holy faith, in pity to mankind, Reveals the triumphs of th' immortal mind; I hear, with mingled music from on higli, Reason announce, “ Altho' they seem to die, “ Not like the blossoms of the woody glade, “Shall the bright flowers of human nature fade : “ Adorn'd with mercy, piety, and truth,

They still shall flourish in immortal youth.”Ye flowers of human-nature! at the time We grieve for your decay, in orient prime, Beneath the brilliancy of heavenly skies, Ye bloom; while here ye seem to fade, ye rise Gay in the embellishment of recent hues; Gales of more exquisite perfume diffuse, Than ye could breathe amid the mists below; And gilt with beams of conscious splendor glow.

PEACE.

Sweet peace, where dost thou dwell? I humbly

crave,

Let me once know.
I sought thee in a secret cave,

And ask'd if peace were there,
A hollow wind did seem to answer, no;

Go, seek elsewhere.

I did;

and going, did a rainbow note:

Surely, thought I,
This is the lace of peace's coat:

I will search out the matter.
But while I look’d, the clouds immediately

Did break and scatter.

Then went I to a garden, and did spy

A gallant flower,
The crown imperial: sure, said I,

Peace at the root must dwell.
But when I digg'd, I saw a woria devour

What shew'd so well.

At length I met a rev'rend good old man :

Whom when for peace
I did demand, he thus began;

There was a prince of old

At Salem dwelt, who liv'd with good increase

Offlock and fold.

He sweetly liv'd; yet sweetness did not save

His life from foes,
But after death out of his grave

There sprang twelve stalks of wheat : Which many wond'ring, at, got some of those

To plant and set.

It prosper'd strangely, and did soon disperse

Though all the earth :
For they that taste it do rehearse,

That virtues lie therein ;
A secret virtue, bringing peace and mirth

By flight of sin.

you:

Take of this grain, which in my garden grows,

And
grows

for
Make bread of it; and that repose

And peace, which every where
With so much earnestness you do pursue,

Is only there.

ON INDUSTRY.

Queen of all virtues! for whate'er we call
Godlike and great, 'tis thou obtain'st it all.
No task too arduous for thy strong essay,
And art and nature own thy potent sway.
Inspir'd by thee to each superior aim,
We press with ardour thro’ the paths of fame,
Up to the sacred top, and leave behind
Thi inglorious crowd, the herd of human kind;
While wisdom round us pours her heavenly ray,
And old experience guides our steady way.
No anxious care, no furious lusts controul
The free habitual vigour of the soul.
Each part, each station gracefully we fill,
And bend and shape our fortune to our will.

The hero, down thro' ev'ry age renown'd,
With triumph, praise, and glorious titles crown'd,
By thee has gain'd his honourable spoils,
And mighly fame atchiev'd by mighty toils.
The sage, whilst learning studious he pursues,
By thee the stubborn sciences subdues ;
Thro' truth's wide fields expatiates unconfin'd,
And stores for ever his capacious mind.
Nor seek the lower ranks thy aid in vain ;
The poor mechanic and the lab'ring swain :

Health, peace, and sweet content to these it brings,
More precious prizes than the wealth of kings.
When whelming round us death's sad terrors roll,
"Tis thou speak'st peace and comfort to the soul.
Then it our recollecting thoughts present
A well-planu'd life in virtuous labour spent;
If useful we have puss'd thro' ev'ry stage,
And paid vur debt of service to the age ;
If still we've made our duty our delight,
Nor hid our master's talent from our sight,
All 's well, 'tis all by our own heart approv'd,
From lience we pass, by God and man belov'd;
Cheerful we pass, to heaven's high will resign'd,
And leave a blessed memory behind.

PARAPHRASE OF THE LORD'S

PRAYER

Father, ador'd in worlds above!
Thy glorious name be hallow'd still;
Thy kingdom come with power and love,
And earth like leav'n obey thy will.

Lord ! make our daily wants thy care;
Forgive the sins which we forsake :

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