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But when their temples long have wore
ODE TO MELANCHOLY.
Spirit of Love and Sorrow hail!
Thy solemn voice from far I hear, Mingling with Erening's dying gale :
Hail with thy sadly pleasing tear! 0! at this still, this lonely hour,
Thine own sweet hour of closing day, Awake thy lute, whose charming power
Shall call up Fancy to obey : To paint the wild romantic dream
That meets the Poet's musing eye, As on the bank of shadowy stream
He breathes to her the fervid sigh.
Lead where the pine woods wave on bigh,
Whose pathless sod is darkly seen, As the cold moon with trembling eye
Darts her long beams the leaves between ; Lead to the mountain's dusky head,
Where far below, in shade profound, Wide forests, plains, and hamlets spread,
And sad the chimes of vesper sound. Or guide me where the dashing oar
Just breaks the stillness of the vale, As slow it tracks the winding shore,
To meet the Ocean's distant sail ; To pebbly banks, that Neptune laves
With measurid surges loud and decp,' Where the dark cliff bends o'er the waves,
And wild the winds of Autumn sweep.
THE FAMISHED MOTHER.
Loud, loud blows the wind on the moor,
Hush, hush, my sweet babe! for thy cry
At the door of the rich man I knock'd,
But the rich man my poverty mock’d,
Cold, cold is thy bosom, 0 clay!
The passenger witness'd my grief,
My steps by a banquet-house pass'd,
Thro' the night, and the storm, and the cold,
Cease, baby, thy sere aming so wild,
AGAINST THE FEAR OF DEATH.
Tremble at death ?-for shame! a christian too!
When Socrates, the humble, wise, and good, Basely condemn'd, resign'd his guiltless blood, “O countrymen 1" he cried, “my heart is calın; * For death, and all its horrors, here's “ Am I all mortal, I unpain'd shall rest; ** Am I imn.ortal, I shall sure be blest. “ The hour is come-Idie :- you live :—'tis well! “ Whose lot is happiest, God o'er all can tell."
Thus dy'd an heathen, as an lieathen ought. What! christian thou, and own a meaner thought? A christian thou, to whom the gospel-day
Discovers bliss, and animates the way? Forbid it, honour !_nobly dare be free! And shew, that death retains no ng for thee!
ADDRESS TO THE DEITY.
God of my life! and author of my days