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For thee, who, mindful of the unhonored dead,
Dost in these lines their artless tale relate, If, chance, by lonely Contemplation led,
Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate; Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, 7
“Oft have we seen him, at the peep of dawn, Brushing with hasty steps the dews away,
To meet the sun upon the upland lawn.
“ There, at the foot of yonder nodding beech,
That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch,
And pore upon the brook that babbles by. “ Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn,
Muttering his wayward fancies, he would rove; Now drooping, woful-wan, like one forlorn, . Or crazed with care, or crossed in hopeless love.
“One morn I missed him on the 'customed hill,
Along the heath and near his favorite tree; Another came; nor yet beside the rill,
Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood, was he;
“The next, with dirges due, in sad array,
Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne; Approach and read — for thou canst read — the lay,
Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn."
A youth, to fortune and to fame unknown;
And Melancholy marked him for her own.
Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere,
Heaven did a recompense as largely send; He gave to misery all he had — a tear,
He gained from Heaven - 't was all he wished - a friend. No further seek his merits to disclose,
Or draw his frailties from their dread abode;
The bosom of his Father and his God.
NATHANIEL COTTON. 1721-1788.
Cotxon was a physician by profession, and was particularly distinguished for his treatment of insanity. The poet Cowper was, for a time, under his care, for this malady, and speaks in commendatory terms of his humanity and sweetness of temper. Cotton wrote Visions in Verse, for children, and a volume of poetical Miscellanies.
In folly's maze advance,
Nor join the giddy dance.
From the gay world we 'll oft retire,
Where love our hours employs;
To spoil our heartfelt joys.
If solid happiness we prize,
And they are fools who roam ;
And that dear hut-our home.
Of rest was Noah's dove bereft,
Giving her vain excursion o'er,
Explored the sacred bark.
Though fools spurn Hymen's gentle powers,
By sweet experience know,
A Paradise below.
Our babes shall richest comforts bring;
Whence pleasures ever rise.
And train them for the skies.
While they our wisest hours engage,
And crown our hoary hairs.
And recompense our cares.
No borrowed joys, – they 're all our own,
Or by the world forgot:
And bless our humbler lot.
Our portion is not large, indeed;
For Nature's calls are few;
And make that little do.
We'll therefore relish, with content,
Nor aim beyond our power ;
Nor lose the present hour.
To be resigned when ills betide,
And pleased with favors given;
Whose fragrance smells to heaven.
But when our feast is o'er,
The relics of our store.
With cautious step we'll tread;
And mingle with the dead.
While conscience, like a faithful friend,
And cheer our dying breath ;
And smooth the bed of death.
DR. THOMAS PERCY. 1728-1811. Percy is chiefly known as the compiler of Reliques of English Poetry, in which he has revived many old songs and ballads, and which have had an extensive influence in awakening a love of nature
. kindly, washed his feet, provided supper, and asked ima down; but observing that the old man ate and prayer. 109 begged for a blessing on his meat, asked him why he di worship the God of heaven? The old man told him worshipped the fire only, and acknowledged no other Gore which answer Abraham' grew so zealously angry, that he the old man out of his tent, and exposed him to all the the night and an unguarded condition.
When the old man was gone, God called to Abraham, ita him where the stranger was? He replied, “I thrust his because he did not worship thee.” God answered him, suffered him these hundred years, although he dishono. and couldst thou not endure him one night, when he gave trouble ?" Upon this, saith the story, Abraham fetched h again, and gave him hospitable entertainment and wise tion. Go thou and do likewise, and thy charity will be reby the God of Abraham.
COMFORTING THE AFFLICTED. · CERTAIN it is, that, as nothing can better do it, so there : ing greater, for which God made our tongues, next to r his praises, than to minister comfort to a weary soul. what greater measure can we have, than that we shoul joy to our brother, who, with his dreary eyes, looks to and round about, and cannot find so much rest as to lay } } lids close together, than that thy tongue should be tun. heavenly accents, and make the weary soul to listen fi. and ease; and when he perceives that there is such a thing world, and in the order of things, as comfort and joy, to b, . break out from the prison of his sorrows, at the door of sig. tears, and by little and little melt into showers and refresh: This is glory to thy voice, and employment fit for the brir angel. But so have I seen the sun kiss the frozen earth, 1: was bound up with the images of death, and the colder i of the north ; and then the waters break from their enclo: and melt with joy, and run in useful channels; and the fli rise again from their little graves in walls, and dance a wh'