« ПредыдущаяПродолжить »
FROM THE ANNUAL BILL OF MOR
--Placidaque: ibi demum morte quievit. Virg. There calm at length he breathed his soul away.
“O most delightful hour by man
Experienced here below;
“ His folly and his woe.
“ Worlds should not bribe me back to tread
Again life's dreary waste; “ To see again my day o'erspread
“ With all the gloomy past.
My home, henceforth, is in the skies,
Thus spake Aspasio, firm possest
Of faith's supporting rod,
The bosom of his God.
He was a man among the few
Sincere on virtue's side ; And all his strength from scripture drew,
To hourly use applied.
That rule he prized, by that he feared,
He hated, hoped, and loved, Nor ever frowned or sad appeared,
But wlien his heart had roved.
For he was frail as thou or I,
And evil felt within,
And loathed the thought of sin.
Such lived Aspasio, and at last
Called up from earth to heaven, The of death triumphant passed
By gales of blessing driven.
His joys be mine, each reader cries,
When my last hour arrives ;
Such only be you lives.
The bandit whom the laws pursue,
The soldier, and the gipsy crew
Whate'er their place of shelter be,
A tent, a cave, or hollow tree,
There if a doxy, or a wife,
Receive the wretch escap'd from strife;
His features catch a brightning smile,
He rests him from his sordid toil,
While thus the poor and wretched find
Th’ asylum for a wounded mind Distemper’d men there are, estrang’d from home,
Cold to an angel's kind embrace,
Cheerless amid a blooming race,
Men in the lap of fortune nurst,
With all her froward humours curst, And teaz'd by wishes ever on the wing;
Who, wand'ring still through folly's maze,
In search of bliss consume their days, Nor taste her genuine draught at nature's spring.
Ye such the men who lead the gay,
The pride and patterns of the day. Whose high-prized friendship fools and strangers
boastBlush, thou ! to court their barren fame;
Let home, sweet home, thy presence claim, And those enjoy thy smiles who love thee most!
A FAREWELL TO THE VANITIES OF
Farewell, ye gilded follies, pleasing troubles;
Fame, honour, beauty, state, train, blood and
birth, Are but the fading blossoms of the earth.
I would be great, but that the sun doth still
I have wish'd all; but now I wish for neither; Great, high, rich, wise nor fair; poor I'll be
Would the world now adopt me for her heir, Would beauty's queen entitle me “ the fair,” Fame speak me fortune's minion, could I vie Angels with India; with a speaking eye Command hare heads, bow'd knees, strike justice
dumb, As well as blind and lame, or give a tongue