Yet e'en these bones from infult to protect
Some frail memorial still erected nigh,

With uncouth rhymes and fhapeless sculpture deck'd,

Implores the paffing tribute of a figh.

Their name, their years, fpelt by th' unletter'd Mufe, The place of fame and elegy fupply,

And many

a holy text around she strews,
To teach the rustic moralist to die.

For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey,
This pleafing anxious being e'er refign'd,
Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day,
Nor caft one longing, ling'ring look behind!
On fome fond breast the parting foul relies,
Some pious drop the clofing eye requires ;
Ev'n from the tomb the voice of nature cries,
Ev'n in our afhes live their wonted fires.

For thee, who, mindful of the unhonour'd dead,
Doft in these lines their artlefs tale relate,
If chance by lonely contemplation led,
Some kindred spirit fhall inquire thy fate:

Haply fome hoary-headed fwain may fay,
"Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn
"Brushing with hafty steps the dews away,
"To meet the fun upon the upland lawn.

"There at the foot of yonder nodding beech,
"That wreaths its old fantastic roots so high,
"His liftless length at noon-tide would he stretch,
"And pore upon the brook that bubbles by.
"Hard

K5

"Hard by yon wood, now fmilling as in fcorn,

Mutt'ring his wayward fancies, he would rove; "Now drooping, woeful wan, like one forlorn, "Or craz'd with care, or cross'd in hopeless love.

"One morn I mifs'd him on the custom'd hill, "Along the heath, and near his fav'rite tree; "Another came, nor yet befide the rill,

"Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he:

"The next, with dirges due, in fad array, "Slow through the church-way path we faw him borne ;

Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay Grav'd on the ftone beneath yon aged thorn. "There fcatter'd oft, the earlieft of the year,

By hands unfeen are showers of violets found; "The red-breaft loves to build and warble there, "And little footsteps lightly print the ground."

THE EPITAPH.

HERE refts his head upon the lap of earth,
A youth to fortune and to fame unknown:
Fair science frown'd not on his humble birth,
And melancholy mark'd him for her own.

Large was his bounty, and his foul fincere ;
Heav'n did a recompence as largely fend;

He gave to mis'ry (all he had) a tear;
He gain'd from Heav'n ('twas all he wish'd) a

friend.

No

No farther feek his merits to difclofe,

Or draw his frailties from their dread abode, (There they alike in trembling hope repose) The bofom of his Father and his God.

FA

THE UNIVERSAL PRAYER.

ATHER of all! in ev'ry age,
In ev'ry clime ador❜d,

By faint, by favage, and by fage,
Jehovah, Jove, or Lord.

Thou Great Firft Caufe, leaft underflood,

Who all my fense confin'd

To know but this, that thou art good,
And that myself am blind.

Yet gave me in this dark estate
To fee the good from from ill;
And binding nature faft in fate,
Left free the human will.

What confcience dictates to be done,
Or warns me not to do,

This, teach me more than hell to fhun,
That, more than heav'n pursue.

What bleffings thy free bounty gives,
Let me not caft away ;

For God is paid when man receives,
T'enjoy is to obey.

Yet not to earth's contracted span
Thy goodness let me bound,
Or think thee Lord alone of man,
When thousand worlds are round.

Let not this weak unknowing hand
Prefume thy bolts to throw,
Or deal damnation round the land,
On each I judge thy foe.

If I am right, thy grace impart
Still in the right to stay!
If I am wrong, O teach my
To find the better way.,

heart

Save me alike from foolish pride,
Or impious difcontent,

At aught thy wisdom has deny'd,
Or aught thy goodness lent..

Teach me to feel another's woe,
To hide the fault I fee;
That mercy I to others fhew,
That mercy fhew to me.

Mean tho' I am, not wholly fo,
Since quicken'd by thy breath;
O lead me wherefoc'er I go,

Thro' this day's life or death.

This day be bread and peace my lot;

All elfe beneath the fun

Thou know'ft if best bestow'd, or not,
And let thy will be done.

To

To thee whose temple is all space,
Whose altar, earth, fea, fkies,
One chorus let all beings raise !
All Nature's incenfe rife!

THE DUEL; OR, THE MAN OF TRUE COURAGE.

ELCOUR loft his parents at an age when

Mhe could not be fenfible of the greatness

of his misfortune. One of his uncles took him home, brought him up with his own fon, and paid the utmost attention to his education. Florival and Melcour, already united by the ties of kindred, were foon more fo by those of friendfhip, which, from their living constantly together, grew ftronger every day. They were both defigned for the army. When they were of a proper age, they got commiffions in the fame regiment. Florival always hated application, and the diffipation that naturally attends a military life ftill inclined him lefs to it. As for Melcour, he had not only a very good natural genius, but ftrong inclination to cultivate it. His ftudies had been properly directed; and a generous and humane difpofition, joined with a habit of thinking seriously, led him to condemn the criminal practice of fighting duels on trivial occafions, a custom too prevalent in the army.

Different