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Thine arm unseen convey'd me safe,
And led me up to man;

Through hidden dangers, toils, and death, 25 It gently clear'd my way,

And through the pleasing snares of vice,

More to be fear'd than they.

When worn with sickness, oft hast thou
With health renew'd my face;

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AN INVITATION TO

THE FEATHERED RACE.

AGAIN the balmy Zephyr blows,
Fresh verdure decks the grove;
Each bird with vernal rapture glows,
And tunes his notes to love.

Ye gentle warblers, hither fly,

And shun the noontide heat;
My shrubs a cooling shade supply,
My groves a safe retreat.

Here freely hop from spray to spray,
Or weave the mossy nest;
Here rove and sing the livelong day,
At night here sweetly rest.

Amidst this cool translucent rill,

That trickles down the glade,

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Here bathe your plumes, here drink your fill, 15 And revel in the shade.

No school-boy rude, to mischief prone,

E'er shows his ruddy face,

Or twangs his bow, or hurls a stone,

In this sequester'd place.

Hither the vocal Thrush repairs,

Secure the Linnet sings,

The Goldfinch dreads no slimy snares

To clog her painted wings.

Sad Philomel, ah, quit thy haunt

Yon distant woods among,

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And round my friendly grotto chant
Thy sweetly-plaintive song.

Let not the harmless Redbreast fear,

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For you these cherries I protect,

To you these plums belong:

Sweet is the fruit that you have peck'd,
But sweeter far your song.

Let then this league betwixt us made
Our mutual interest guard :

Mine be the gift of fruit and shade,

Your songs be my reward.

EDWIN AND ANGELINA.

A BALLAD.

"TURN, gentle Hermit of the dale,
And guide my lonely way,

To where yon taper cheers the vale
With hospitable ray.

"For here forlorn and lost I tread,
With fainting steps and slow,
Where wilds, immeasurably spread,
Seem lengthening as I go."

B

GRAVES.

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"Forbear, my son," the Hermit cries, "To tempt the dangerous gloom; For yonder faithless phantom flies

To lure thee to thy doom.

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"Here to the houseless child of want

My door is open still;

And, though my portion is but scant,
I give it with good will.

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"Then turn to-night, and freely share Whate'er my cell bestows;

My rushy couch and frugal fare,

My blessing and repose.

"No flocks that range the valley free,
To slaughter I condemn;

Taught by that Power that pities me,
I learn to pity them:

"But from the mountain's grassy side
A guiltless feast I bring;

A scrip with herbs and fruits supplied,
And water from the spring.

"Then, Pilgrim, turn, thy cares forgo;

All earth-born cares are wrong;

Man wants but little here below,

Nor wants that little long."

Soft as the dew from heaven descends,

His gentle accents fell;

The modest stranger lowly bends,

And follows to the cell.

Far in a wilderness obscure

The lonely mansion lay;

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A refuge to the neighbouring poor
And strangers led astray.

No stores beneath its humble thatch
Required a master's care;

The wicket, opening with a latch.
Received the harmless pair.

And now, when busy crowds retire
To take their evening rest,
The Hermit trimm'd his little fire,
And cheer'd his pensive guest

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To soothe the stranger's woe; For grief was heavy at his heart,

And tears began to flow.

His rising cares the Hermit spied.

With answering care opprest:

"And whence, unhappy youth," he cried,

"The sorrows of thy breast?

"From better habitations spurn'd,

Reluctant dost thou rove;

Or grieve for friendship unreturn'd,
Or unregarded love?

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