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An heart that scorns a shameful thing,
If all whate'er my verse has told, Golconda's gems, and Afric's gold; If all were mine from pole to pole, How large her share who shares my
soul? But more than these may Heaven impart ; Be thine the treasures of the heart; Be calm, and glad thy future days With Virtue's peace, and Virtue's praise. Let jealous pride, and sleepless Care, And wasting Grief, and black Despair And Langour chill, and Anguish fell, For ever shun thy grove and cell ; There only may the happy train Of Love, and Joy, and Peace, remain : May Plenty, with exhaustless store, Employ thy hand to feed the poor, And ever on thy honor'd head The prayer of Gratitude be shed.
A happy mother may'st thou see Thy smiling virtuous progeny, Whose sportful tricks, and airy play, Fraternal love, and prattle gay,
Or wonderous tale, or joyful song
A YOUNG LADY,
ON HER PLAYING UPON THE HARPSICHORD,
In a Room hung with some Flower-Pieces of her own Painting.
By the Same.
When Stella strikes the tuneful string
When charms thus press on every sense,
And forming, with unerring art,
Mark, when from thousand mingled dyes, Thou seest one pleasing form arise, How active light, and thoughtful shade, In greater scenes each other aid ; Mark, when the different notes agree In friendly contrariety, How passion's well-accorded strife, Gives all the harmony of life, Thy pictures shall thy conduct frame, Consistent still, though not the same, Thy music teach the nobler art To tune the regulated heart.
BY THE RIGHT HON.
CHARLES JAMES FOX.
Where the loveliest expression to features is join’d,
without rapture on Amoret's eyes ;
wishes, which never were bounded before, Are here bounded by friendship, and ask for no more, I’st reason ? No ; that my whole life will belye, For who so at variance, as reason and I ? Is't ambition that fills up each chink of my heart, Nor allows any softer sensation a part?