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The world recedes; it disappears!
With sounds seraphic ring :
O death! where is thy sting?
TO MARY IN HEAVEN.
Thou lingering star, with lessening ray,
That lov'st to greet the early morn, Again thou usherst in the day
My Mary from my soul was torn. O Mary! dear departed shade!
Where is thy place of blissful rest? See'st thou thy lover lowly laid ?
Hear’st thou the groans that rend his breast? That sacred hour can I forget,
Can I forget the ballow'd grove, Where by the winding Ayr we met,
To live one day of parting love ! Eternity will not efface
Those records dear of transports past; Thy image at our last embrace;.
Ah! little thought we 'twas our last!
Ayr gurgling kiss'd his pebbled shore,
O’erhung with wild woods, thickening, green; The fragrant birch, and hawthorn hoar,
Twin'd amorous round the raptur'd scene. The flowers sprang wanton to be prest,
The birds sang love on every spray, Till too, too soon, the glowing west
Proclaim'd the speed of winged day. Still o'er these scenes my memory wakes,
And fondly broods with miser care; Time but the' impression deeper makes,
As streams their channels deeper wear. My Mary, dear departed shade!
Where is thy blissful place of rest? See'st thou thy lover lowly laid?
Hear’st thou the groans that rend his breast?
MUTABILITY OF HUMAN LIFE,
My friend, forbear th' unmanly cry,
Nor cloud thy looks with woe,
Some luckless die should throw,
To-day th' unprison'd whirlwinds sweep,
And warring billows roar ;
And gen'ral peace restore.
The sun, that sunk with clouds opprest, To-morrow rising in the east,
In his full fame shall glow. Griefs and gay sıniles alternate rise ; Joy wipes the dew-drop from our eyes,
And transports tread on woe.
Dauger and disappointment wait,
Where hope's proud progress rolls; Thus 'uis decreed, 'till time's last day Shall sweep this phantom-world away,
And rest our tossing souls.
He, who last night his oxen drove,
A sphere supreme to fill;
The vassals of his will.
The evening star the man beheld
But, when the morning came,
And realms rever'd his name.
Should fortune, who delights to twine
Assume a diff'rent thread,
Must seek his straw-built shed.
The axes that, with laurels crown'd,
His stubborn billets rend;
Their last assistance lend.
THE VANITY OF WEALTH.
No more thus brooding o'er yon heap,
To purchase Heaven has gold the power ?
With science tread the wondrous way,
Thus taste the feast by nature spread, Ere youth and all its joys are fled ; Come taste with me the balm of life, Secure from pomp, and wealth, and strife. I boast whate'er for man was meant, In health, and Stella, and content; And scorn! Oh! let that scorn be thine; Mere things of clay, that dig the mine.