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From fleeting mirth that o'er the bottle lives,
From the false joy its inspiration gives;

And from associates pleas'd to find a friend,
With powers to lead them, gładden and defend,
In all those scenes where transient ease is found,
For minds whom sins oppress, and sorrows wound.

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Of joy now eager, as before of fame,

And screen'd by folly when assail'd by shame,
Deeply he sank, obey'd each passion's call,
And used his reason to defend them all.

Shall I proceed, and step by step relate The odious progress of a sinner's fate? No-let me rather hasten to the time

(Sure to arrive) when misery waits on crime.

With virtue prudence fled; what Shore possess'd Was sold, was spent, and he was now distress'd; And want, unwelcome stranger, pale and wan, Met with her haggard looks the hurried man : His pride felt keenly what he must expect From useless pity and from cold neglect.

Struck by new terrors from his friends he fled,
And wept his woes upon a restless bed;
Retiring late, at early hour to rise,

With shrunken features, and with bloodshot eyes;
If sleep one moment clos'd the dismal view,
Fancy her terrors built upon the true;
And night and day had their alternate woes,
That baffled pleasure and that mock'd repose;
Till to despair and anguish was consign'd,
The wreck and ruin of a noble mind.

Now seiz'd for debt, and lodg'd within a jail, He tried his friendships, and he found them fail; Then fail'd his spirits, and his thoughts were all Fix'd on his sins, his sufferings, and his fall: His ruffled mind was pictur'd in his face, Once the fair seat of dignity and grace: Great was the danger of a man so prone To think of madness, and to think alone; Yet pride still liv'd, and struggled to sustain The drooping spirit, and the roving brain; But this too fail'd: a friend his freedom gave, And sent him help the threat'ning world to brave; Gave solid counsel what to seek or flee, But still would stranger to his person be: In vain! the truth determin'd to explore,

He traced the friend whom he had wrong'd before.

This was too much; both aided and advis'd By one who shunn'd him, pitied and despis'd; He bore it not; 'twas a deciding stroke, And on his reason like a torrent broke; In dreadful stillness he appear'd awhile · With vacant horror, and a ghastly smile; Then rose at once into the frantic rage, That force controll'd not, nor could love assuage.

Then as its wrath subsided by degrees,

The mind sank slowly to infantine ease;
To playful folly, and to causeless joy,
Speech without aim, and without end, employ;
He drew fantastic figures on the wall,
And gave some wild relation of them all;
With brutal shape he join❜d the human face,
And idiot smiles approved the motley race.

That gentle maid, whom once the youth had lov'd, Is now with mild religious pity mov'd;

Kindly she chides his boyish flights, while he

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Will for a moment fixed and pensive be;
And as she trembling speaks, his lively eyes
Explore her looks, he listens to her sighs;
Charm'd by her voice, th' harmonious sounds invade
His clouded mind, and for a time persuade :
Like a pleased infant, who has newly caught
From the maternal glance a gleam of thought;
He stands enrapt, the half-known voice to hear,
And starts, half conscious, at the falling tear.

Rarely from town, nor then unwatch'd he goes, In darker mood, as if to hide his woes;

Returning soon, he with impatience seeks

His youthful friends, and shouts, and sings, and speaks;
Speaks a wild speech with action all as wild-
The children's leader, and himself a child;
He spins their top, or, at their bidding, bends
His back, while o'er it leap his laughing friends;
Simple and weak, he acts the boy once more,
And heedless children call him Silly Shore.

THE BUTTERFLY'S BIRTHDAY.

Roscoe.

THE shades of night at distance fled,
The air was calm, the wind was still;
And slow the slanting sun-beam spread
O'er wood and lawn, o'er heath and hill.

From floating clouds of pearly hue,

Fell in light drops, the recent shower, That hung like gems of morning dew, On every tree, and every flower.

And from the Blackbird's mellow throat Was poured so long and loud a swell, As echoed with responsive note

From mountain side, and shadowy dell.

When bursting forth to life and light,
The offspring of delighted May,
The Butterfly, on pinions bright,

Launched in full splendour on the day!

Unconscious of a mother's care,

No infant wretchedness she knew; But as she felt the vernal air,

At once to full perfection grew.

Her slender form, ethereal light,

Her velvet textured wings enfold,

With all the rainbow's colours bright,
And dropt with spots of burnished gold.

Trembling with joy, awhile she stood,
And felt the sun's enlivening ray,
Drank from the breeze the vital flood,
And wondered at her plumage gay.

And balanced oft her broidered wings, Through fields of air prepared to sail; Then on her vent'rous journey springs, And floats along the vernal gale,

Go! child of pleasure, range the fields, Share all the joys that Spring can give ; ́ Partake what bounteous Summer yields, And live, while yet 'tis time to live.

Go, sip the rose's fragrant dew,
The lily's hony'd cup explore;

From flower to flower, the search renew,
And rifle all the woodbine's store.

And let me trace thy vagrant flight,
Thy moments, too, of short repose;
And mark thee then, with fresh delight,
Thy golden pinions ope and close.

But hark! while thus I musing stand,
Swells on the gale an airy note,
And, breathing from a viewless band,
Soft, silvery tones around me float.

They cease; but still a voice I hear,
A whisper'd voice of hope and joy;
"Thy fated hour approaches near,
"Prepare thee, Mortal! thou must die!

"Yet start not-on thy closing eyes, “Another day shall still unfold,

"A sun of brighter radiance rise, "A happier age of joys untold.

"Shall the poor worm, that shocks thy sight,

"The humblest form in Nature's train,

"Thus rise again to life and light,

"And yet the emblem teach in vain?

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