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'Twas here a tender mother strove
To keep my happiness in view; I smil'd beneath a parent's love,
Who soft compassion ever knew; In whom the virtues all combin'd,
On whom I could with faith rely; To whom my heart and soul were join'd
By mild affection's primal tie: Who smiles in heav'n, exempt from care,
Whilft I remember--fuch things were. 'Twas here, (where calm and tranquil rest
O'erpays the peasant for his toil) That first, in blessing, I was blest
With growing friendship's open smile. My friend, far diftant, doom'd to roam,
Now braves the fury of the seas; He fled his peaceful, happy home,
His little fortune to increase : Whilst bleeds afresh the wound of care, When I remember-such things were. 'Twas here-ev'n in this blooming grove,
I fondly gaz’d on Laura's charms, Who blushing own'd a mutual love,
And melted in my youthful arms.
Yet fate, the cruel tyrant, bore
The lovely maid I did adore.
Of guileless pleasure's shining day;
Here mark'd the soft declining rayBeheld the skies, whose streaming light
Gave splendour to the parting sun;
And all their mingled glories gone !
CHILDREN GATHERING FLOWERS.
BY T. SMART.
OVELY Innocents! what pleasures
Meet you in this happy hour! Richer far than monarchs' treasures
Seems each vari'gated flowrOh! that joys supreme may ever
In each bosom find abode ! And no villain's base endeavour
Lead your steps to sorrow's road! Should some monster, iron-hearted,
From their home you parents tear; Heedless of each wound that smarted,
Wounds which wives and children bear :
Rapidly your tears would flow;
Smiles, insulting, on your woe.
THE RETROSPECT OF LIFE.
's a cheat, and pleasure flies. Is there nothing worth our care?
Time, and chance, and death our foes; If our joys so fleeting are,
Are we only ty'd to woes ? Let bright Virtue answer, Ino;
Her eternal pow'rs prevail ? on to When honours
, riches, cease to flow, come And beauty, mirth, and pleasure fail auton
WRITTEN ON THE SEA SHORE:
BY CHARLOTTE SMITH.
O , , break,
N some rude fragment of the rocky shore,
The screaming sea-bird quits the troubled sea:
But the wild gloomy scene has charms for me, And suits the mournful
soul. Already shipwreck'd by the storms of fate,
Like the poor mariner methinks I stand,
Cast on a rock; who sees the distant land,
From secret snares the struggling bird to free,
And stop the hand uprais'd to give the blow. And when the air with heat meridian glows,
And nature droops beneath the conqu’ring gleam, Let us, flow wand'ring where the current flows,
Save finking flies that float along the stream.
To me thy sympathetic gifts impart;
And justly boast the gen'rous feeling heart.
With timely aid the widow's woes assuage, To mis’ry's moving cries to yield relief,
And be the fure resource of drooping age. So when the genial spring of life shall fade,
And sinking nature own the dread decay, Some soul congenial then may lend its aid,
And gild the close of life's eventful day.
The cup was all fill'd, and the leaves were all wet,
And it seem'd, to a fanciful view, Το weep
for the buds it had left, with regret, On the flourishing bush where it grew. I hastily seiz'd it, unfit as it was
For a nosegay, so dripping and drown'd; And swinging it rudely-too rudely—alas !
I snapp'd it-it fell to the ground. And such, I exclaim'd, is the pitiless part
Some act by the delicate mind,
Already to forrow resign'd.
Might have bloom’d with its owner awhileAnd the tear that is wip'd, with a little address,
May be follow'd perhaps with a smile.
The DOG and the WATER-LILY.
BY THE SAME.
"HE noon was shady, and soft airs
When 'scap'd from literary cares,
I wander'd on its side.
And high in pedigree;
That spaniel found for me ;)
Now starting into fight,
With scarce a flower flight.
His lilies newly blown;
And one I wish'd my own.