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For love, which scarce collective man can fill;
THE FALLING LEAF.
See the leaves around us falling,
Dry and withered to the ground !
With a sad and sulemn sound
" Sons of Adam-once in Eden,
Blighted when like us you fell,
'Tis, alas ! the truth we tell;
Virgins! much, too much presuming,
in your boasted white and red, View us late in beauty blouming.
Number'd now among the dead :
Griping Misers! nightly waking,
See the end or all your care, Fled on wings of our own making,
We have left our owners bare;
Sons of Honor! fed on praises,
Flutt'ring high on fancied worth, Lo! the ficklc air that raises
Brings us down to parent Earth;
Learned Sophs ! in systems jaded,
Who for new ones daily call, Cease at length by us persuaded,
Every leaf must have a fall;
Youths ! tho' yet no losses grieve you,
Gay in healih and manly grace, Let not cloudless skies deceive you
Summer gives to Autunun place;
Venerable Sires! grown hoary,
Hither turn th' unwilling eye, Think amidst your falling glory,
Autumin tells a Winter nigh;
Yearly in our course returning,
Messengers of shortest stay, Thus we preach this truth unerring,
Heav'n and Earth shall pass away!
On the Tree of Life Eternal
Man! let all thy hopes be staid, Which alone, for ever vernal,
Bears a leaf which ne'er shall fade !
The Rose, the sweet blooming Rose,
Ere from the trees its torn,
In Life's exulting morn!
But oh! how soon its sweets are gone,
How soon it withering lies,
Sweet beauty fades and dies :
Then since the fairest form that's made,
Soon withering we shall find,
The beauties of the Mind !
CHARITY AND RELIGION.
All hail ! benignant name, sweet Charity !
And thou, Religion! soul transformning flame, (Let earth thy power-let heav'n thy praise pro.
claim) Whoe'er 's possessed of thee could wish no more, And without thee a Cræsus must be poor. Come then, Religion! and the toiling hind Shall more than bread in thine embraces find; Thy precious balm distill'd upon his heart, His wants subside-his sorrows all depart; He sees his storm-beat cultage proudly rise, More than a palace-half a paradise!
Lo! he who erst repos`d his weary head,
SUN STAND THOU STILL!
· Stand still--refulgent orb of day !"
A Jewish hero cries
And tear it from the skies!
A flame intenser than the Sun,
Shall melt his golden urn,
Nor human years return!
Then with immortal splendor briglii,
That glorious orb shall rise,
The new created skies !
Thou Sun of Nature roll along
And bear our years away
Of everlasting Day!