LINES FOR A PRIVATE THEATRICAL.

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If to our host one small return is made,

For ev'ry kindness in each shape display'd;

If from our hostess, we a tear arrest,

(Warm as the feelings that inspire her breast,)
Tho' as poor culprits, at the bar arraign'd,
Our scenes, our Drama, and our Art disdain'd;
With gen'rous pity, grant us your applause,
Forget our failings, and protect our cause.

UPON

THE DEATH OF A FRIEND;

AS A WANDERER WAS LEANING OVER THE GRAVE.

"Alas! the moral brings a tear,

""Tis all a transient hour below,

"And we, that would detain thee here,

"Ourselves-as fleetly go."

Campbell.

"Yet in his cheek, there was that sickliness,

"Which thought and feeling leave; wearing away

"The bloom of youth."

IN Manhood's prime, see

Southey.

resign his life,

Lost to its pleasure, and beyond its strife;

LINES UPON THE DEATH OF A FRIEND.

Nor youth, nor friends, nor opulence could save,

Their envied owner from the silent grave.

No Sybarite, in silken harems born,

Caress'd and pamper'd from his earliest morn,
Who no desire ungratified could bear,

Or felt from infancy, a single care;

No travell❜d coxcomb play'd his frothy part,

But sense and judgment veil'd an upright heart;
From public life he shrunk with mild disdain,
And early quitted its ambitious train;

Tho' seeking in sequester'd scenes to find,
The gen❜rous impulse, and the feeling mind:
No cloister'd hypocrite's ascetic scowl,

Confin'd each duty to a bigot's cowl;

With Hydra tongue, and more than Argus eye,
No base detraction o'er his roof would pry;
One steady course he modestly upheld,

In the "Belles Lettres" as in Taste excell'd;
Nor from one being ever drew a tear,

'Till Death consign'd him to an early bier.
Most grateful then, for each enjoyment past,
With all that Providence permits to last;

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LINES UPON THE DEATH OF A FRIEND.

One awful lesson from his early fate,

Let our brief moments not defer too late;

Soon we, each object, most endear'd may leave,
Or some kind bosom o'er our ashes grieve;
Soon we, like him, may yield our latest breath,
And hear the summons, of unsparing death;
Life's gilded meteors, like a dream be o'er,

And youth and beauty fascinate no more.

From these sad thoughts, and mournful views refrain, Observe yon wand'rer in the wint❜ry plain :

O'erjoy'd, some father hail'd his humble birth,

(Their cottage echoing to each sound of mirth ;)
Some mother lov'd his infant form to trace,
Some sister wooed him to her fond embrace;
Shar'd in his sports, dispell'd his youthful tears,
And blest that home which Mem❜ry still endears.
Now thro' misfortune, or thro' folly lost,

A friendless being, on Life's ocean tost;
Shunn'd by the rich, neglected by the poor,
No cheerful cabin opes a willing door;
No bosom beats respondent to his own,
No voice replies with sympathetic tone,

LINES UPON THE DEATH OF A FRIEND.

Yet may kind Heaven arrest each mournful tear,

Bestow that happiness-denied him here;

And prove beyond unerring Euclid's rule,

Beyond the cheerless metaphysic school;

When all must sink, in one convulsion hurl'd, "There is another-and a better world."

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