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ON MRS. BLANDFORD. ON THE REVEREND MR. HUNTER, MEEK shade, farewell! go seek that quiet |

wwiet | Who reeeived a degree from the University of Oxford , shore


for his work against Lord Bolingbroke's Philosophy. Where sin shall vex, and sorrow wound no Go, happy spirit, seek that blissful land Thy lowly worth obtains that final bliss,

| Where zealous Michael leads the glorious Which pride disdains to seek, and wit may


(99, Of those who fought for truth; blest spirit, miss. That path thou'st found which science can And perfect all the good begun below: not teach,

Go, hear applauding saints, delighted, tell But faith and goodness never fail to reach : How vanquish'd Falsehood, at thy bidding, Then share the joy the words of life impart,

tell ! The Vision promis'd to the pure in heart,

Blest in that heav'n whose paths thy virtue

sought ; Blest in that God whose cause thou well hast

ON MRS. LITTLE, 10 let thy honour'd shade his care approve,

Who this memorial rears of filial love :
In Redcliff Church, England.

| A son, whose father, living, was his pride; Ocould this verse her fair example spread, A son who mourns that such a father died. And teach the living while it prais'd the dead!

[vine, Then, reader! should it speak her hope diNot to record her faith, but strengthen

ON C. DICEY, Esq. thine;

In Claybrook Church, Leicestershire. Then should her ev'ry virtue stand confest, Till ev'ry virtue kindle in thy breast.

|O) thou, or friend or stranger, who shall But, if thou slight the monitory strain, .

tread And she has liv'd, to thee at least, in vain ;

These solemn mansions of the silent dead ! Yet let her death, an awful lesson give,

Think, when this record to inquiring eyes, The dring Christian speaks to all that live.

No more shall tell the spot where Dicey Enough for her that here her ashes rest,

lies; Till God's own plaudit shall her worth at

When this frail marble, faithless to its trust, test.

Mould'ring itself, resigns its moulder'd dust;
When time shall fail, and Nature's self de-


And carth, and sun, and skies dissolve away; Hemorable for his conquests in India, and for his cle- Thy soul, this consummation shall survive, mency to the vanquished.

Defy the wreck, and but begin to live. On a Monument erected by Sir Robert Palk. This truth, long slighted, let these ashes Burn to command, to conquer, and to spare,

1 teach, As mercy mild, yet terrible as war,

Though cold, instruct you, and though silent Here Lawrence rests in death; while living

preach: fame

O pause! reflect, repent, resolve, amend !

:,lmans; Life has no length, eternity no end !
From Thames to Ganges wafts his honour'd
To him this frail memorial Friendship rears,
Whose noblest monument's a nation's tears ;
Whose deeds on fairer columns stand en-

. ON A YOUNG LADY. grar'd, la provinces preserv'd and cities sav'd. Go, peaceful shade! exchange for sin and


The glorious palm which patient suff'rers TO THE MEŇORY OF


[gains, MRS. ELIZABETH IVES, Go, take the mced victorious meekness ized Ninety-one, of Northampton.

Go, wear the crown triumphant faith oby

tains, Her pious and useful Life,

Those silent graces which the good conceal, was extended to an honourable old age,

The day of dread disclosure shall reveal; and closed by an exemplary Death, Then shall thy mild, retiring virtues rise, Her Charity had its source

And God, both judge and witness, give the
In Religion :

Her love of her neighbour
was the genuine effect
of her love of God:

Her Resignation

was the Fruit of her Faith,
and she died in Hope

because she bad lived

Ye lib’ral souls who rev’rence Friendship’s


'ON THE REVEREND Who boast her blessings, and who feel her|| flame!

SIR JAMES STONHOUSE, BART. M. D. Oh! if from early youth one friend you've In the Chapel at the Hot-Wells, Bristol.

loy'd, Whom warm affection chose, and taste ap- HERE rest awhile, in happier climes to prov'd;

shine, If you have known what anguish rends the The orator, physician, and divine: heart,

'Twas his, like Luke, the double task to fill, When such, so known, so lov'd, for ever To heal the nat’ral and the moral ill. part;

You, whose awaken'd hearts his labours Approach - For you the mourner rears this blest,

Where ev'ry truth, by ev'ry grace was stone, To sooth your sorrows, and record his own.

Oh ! let your lives evince that still you feel
Th’effective influence of his fervent zeal.
One spirit rescued from eternal wo

Were nobler fame than marble can bestow; ON THE REVEREND MR. LOVE, That lasting monument will mock decay

And stand, triumphant, at the final day.
In the Cathedral, at Bristol.
When worthless grandeur fills th' embel-
lish'd urn,

No poignant grief attends the sable bier :
But when distinguish'd excellence we ECU

je Second wife of the Red. Sir James Slonhouse,

Bart. mourn, Deep is the sorrow, genuine is the tear. Come resignation ! wipe the human tear, Stranger ! should'st thou approach this aw- Domestic anguish drops o'er Virtue's bier ; ful shrine,

| Bid selfish sorrow hush the fond complaint, The merits of the honour'd dead to seek ; Nor, from the God she lov'd, detain the The friend, the son, the christian, the divine, saint. Let those who knew him, those who lov'd Truth, meekness, patience, honour'd shade him speak.

were thine ; Oh let them in some pause of anguish say, And holy Hope, and charity divine : What zeal inflam'd, what faith enlarg'd Though these thy forfeit being could not save, his breast !

Thy faith subdu'd the terrors of the grave, How glad the unfetter'd spirit wing'd its Oh ! if thy living excellence could teach, way

Death has a loftier emphasis of speech : From earth to heav'n, from blessing to be Let death thy strongest lesson then impart; blest!

| And write prepare to die, on ev'ry heart,



THERE was a prince of high degree, He should receive a kingdom still.
As great and good as prince could be; The youth the pardon little minded,
Much pow'r and wealth were in his hand, So much his sottish soul was blinded;
With lands and lordships at command. But though he mourn'd no past transgres-
One son, a fav’rite son, he had,

sion, An idle thoughtless kind of lad;

He lik'd the future rich possession. Whom, spite of all his follies past,

He lik’d the kingdom when obtain'd, He meant to make his heir at last.

But not the terms on which 'twas gain'd; The son escap'd to foreign lands,

He hated pain and self-denial, And broke his gracious sire's commands; Chose the reward, but shunn'd the trial. Far, as he fancied, from his sight,

He knew his father's power how great, In each low joy he took delight.

How glorious too the promis'd state!
The youth, detesting peace and quiet, | At length resolves no more to roam
Indulg'd in vice, expense, and riot ;

But strait to seek his father's home.
Of each wild pleasure rashly tasted, His sire had sent a friend to say,
Till health declined, and substance wasted, He must be cautious on his way;
The tender sire, to pity prone,

Told him what road he must pursue,
Promis'd to pardon what was done ;

And always keep his home in view. And, would he certain terms fulfil

The thoughtless youth set out indeed,

But soon he slacken'& in his speed; | While beggars, foreigners, and poor,
For ev'ry trifle by the way

Enjoy'd the father's boundless store,
Seduc'd his idle heart astray.
by ev'ry casual impulse sway'd,

Oier'ry slight prétence he stay'd;
To each, to all, his passions bend,

My fable, reader, speaks to thee,
He quite forgets his journey's end.

In God this bounteous father see; For ev'ry sport, for ev'ry song,

And in his thoughtless offspring trace, He halted as he pass'd along;

The sinful, wayward, lauman race. Caught by each idle sight he saw,

The friend, the generous father sent,
He'd loiter e’en to pick a straw.

To rouse, and to reclaim him, meant;
Whate'er was present seiz'd his soul, The faithful minister you'll find,
A feast, a show, a brimming bowl;

Who call the wand'ring, warns the blind. Contented with this vulgar lot,

Reader, awake! this youth you blame, His father's house he quite forgot.

Are not you doing just the same? Those slight refreshments by the way, Mindless your comforts are but given Which were but meant his strength to stay, To help you on your way to heav'n. So sunk his soul in sloth and sin,

The pleasures which beguile the road, He look'd no farther than his inn.

The flow’rs with which your path is strew'd; His father's friend would oft appear

To these your whole desires you bend And sound the promise in his ear;

And quite forget your journey's end, Oft would he rouse him, “Sluggard come! The nieanest toys your soul entice, This is thy inn, and not thy home.'

A feast, a song, a game at dice; Displeas'd he answers, 'Come what will, Charm’d with your present paltry lot, Of present bliss I'll take my fill;

Eternity is quite forgot. In vain you plead, in vain l'hear,

Then listen to a warning friend, Those jovs are distant, these are near.' Who bids you mind your journey's end; Thus perish'd, lost to worth and truth, A wand'ring pilgrim here you roam ; In sight of home this hapless youth;

| This world's your inn, the next your home,





Loves he his neighbour like his fame?

Such lazy, or such soaring elves 1. Each man who lives the Scriptures prove, Can't love their neighbour as themselves. Must as himself his neighbour love;

VI, He, whose gross appetites enslave him, Bot though the precept's full of beauty, Who spends or feasts the wealth God gave Tis an impracticable duty :

him; I'll prove how hard it is to find

Full, pamper'd, gorg'd at ev'ry meal, A lover of this wond'rous kind.

He cannot for the empty feel, II. Who loves himself to great excess,

How can such gormandizing elves You'll grant must love his neighbour less; | E’er love their neighbour as themselves ? When selfengrosses all the heart

VII. Then since the man who lusts for gold, How can another have a part ?

Since he who is to pleasure sold; Then if self-love most men enthral, Who soars in pride, or sinks it ease, A neighbour's share is none at all.

His neighbour will not serve or please; III. Say, can the man who hoards up pelf Where shall we hope the man to find E'er love his neighbour as himself?

To fill this great command inclin'd ? For if he did, would he not labour

VIII. I dare not blame God's holy word, To heard a little for his neighbour?

Nor censure Scripture as absurd ; Then tell me, friend, can hoarding elves But sure the rule's of no avail

E’er love their neighbour as themselves? If plac'd so high that all must fail ;
IV. The man whose heart is bent on plea- And 'tis impossible to prove

That any can his neighbour love.
Small love will to his neighbour measure:
Who solely studies his own good,

Can't love another if he would.

|IX. Yes, such there are of heav'nly mould, Then how can pleasure-hunting elyes | Unwarp'd by pleasure, ease, or gold;

E'er love their neighbour as themselves! | He who fulfils the nobler part
V. Can he whom sloth and loitering please By loving God with all his heart;
E'er love his neighbour like his ease?

"He, only he, the Scriptures prove, Or he who feels ambition's flame

I Can, as himself, his neighbour love, VOL. I.

X. Then join, to make a perfect plan, Turn Christian, and you'll find it easy.
The love of God to love of man;

Still, 'tis impossible, you'll cry,
Your heart in union both must bring,

In vain shall feeble nature try.' This is the stream, and that the spring; 'Tis true ; but know a Christian is a crea

This done, no more in vain you'll labour, ture,

A Christian can't but love his neighbour. | Why does things quite impossible to naXI. If then the rule's too hard to please ye, l ture.


Airy spirits, you who love Cooling bow'r, or shady grove : Streams that murmur as they flow, Zephyrs bland that softly blow;

Babbling echo, or the tale Of the love-lorn nightingale; Hither, airy spirits, come. This is your peculiar home,

If you love a verdant glade,
If you love a noon-tide shade,
Híther, sylpbs and fairies fly,
Unobserv'd of earthly eye.

Come, and wander ev'ry night,
By the moon-beam's glimm'ring light;
And again at early day
Brush the silver dews away.

Mark where first the daisies blow,
Where the bluest violets grow;
Where the sweetest linnet sings,
Where the earliest cowslip springs;

Where the largest acorn lies,
Precious in a fairy's eyes;
Sylphs, though unconfin’d to place,
Love to fill an acorn's space,

Come, and mark within what bush
Builds the blackbird or the thrush;
Great his joy who first espies,
Greater his who spares the prize !

Corne, and watch the hallow'd bow'r, Chase the insect from the flow'r;

Little offices like these,
Gentle souls and fairies please.

Mortals ! form'd ot grosser clay,
From our haunts keep far away ;
Or, if you should dare appear,
See that you from vice are clear.

Folly's minion, Fashion's tool,
Mad Ambition's restless tool !
Slave of passion, slave of pow'r,
Fly, ah fly! this tranquil bow'r !

Son of Av'rice, soul of frost,
Wretch ! of Heav'n abhorr'd the most,
Learn to pity others' wants,
Or avoid these hallow'd haunts.

Eve unconscious of a tear,
When Affliction's train appear;
Heart that never heav'd a sigh,
For another, come not nigh,

But, ye darling sons of Heav'n,
Giving freely what was giv'n;
You, whose lib'ral hand dispense
The blessings of benevolence:

You, who wipe the tearful eye,
You, who stop the rising sigh;
You, whose souls have understood
The luxury of doing good-

Come, ye happy virtuous few,
Open is my bow'r to you ;

You, these mossy banks may press;
"You, each guardian fay shall bless.


The Devil, as the Scriptures show, | And sell their souls for reputation,
Tempts sinful mortals high and low; But the great gift, the mighty bribe,
And acting well his various part,

Which Satan pours amid the tribe,
Suits every bribe to every heart :

Which millions seize with eager haste, See where the prince of Darkness stands And all desire at least to taste, With baits for souls in both his hands. Is-ploding reader!—what d'ye think? To one he offers empires whole,

Alas!-tis money-money-chink! And gives a sceptre for a soul;

Round the wide world the tempter flies, To ove, he freely gives in barter,

Presents to view the glittering prize; A peerage, or a star and garter ;

See how he hastes froin shore to shore,
To one he pays polite attention,

And how the nations all adore :
And begs him just to take a pension, Souls flock by thousands to be sold,
Some are so fired with love of fame, Smit with the fond desire of gold.
He bribes them by an empty name; See, at yon needy tradesman's shop,
For fame they toil, they preach, they write, The universal tempter stop;
Give alms, build hospitals or fight;

• Would'st thou,' he cries, increase thy For human praise renounce salvation,


I'se lighter weights and scantier measures, The poor', with equal force he plies, Tous thou shalt thrive :' the trader's willing, But wins them with a humbler prize : and sells his soul to get a shilling.

Has gentler arts for young beginners,
Next Satan to a farmer hies,

And fouler sins for older sinners.
I scorn to cheat,' the farmer cries : Oft too he cheats our mortal eyes,
Yet still his heart on wealth is bent, For Satan father is of lies;
And so the Devil is content ;

A thousand swindling tricks he plays us, Now markets rise, and riches roll,

And promises, but never pays us; And Satan quite secures his soul.

Thus we poor fools are strangely caught, Mark next yon cheerful youth so jolly, And find we've sold our souls for nought, So fand of laughter and of folly ;

Nay, oft, with quite a juggler's art, He hates a stingy griping fellow,

He bids the proffer'd gitt depart; But gets each day a little mellow;

Sets some gay joy before our face, To Satan too he sells his soul

Then claps a trouble in its place; In barter for a flowing bowl.

Turns up some loss for promis'd gain, But mark again yon lass a spinning,

And conjures pleasure into pain. See how the tempter is beginning :

Be wise then, oh! ye worldly tribe, Some beau presents a top-knot nice,

Nor sell your conscience for a bribe ; She grants her virtue as the price;

When Satan tempts you to begin, A slave to vanity's control,

Resist him, and refuse to sin : She, for a riband, sells her soul !

Bad is the bargain on the whole, Thus Satan tries each different state : To gain the world and lose the soul ! With mighty bribes he tempts the great ;


ROBERT AND RICHARD. But while young I'll be jolly, what harm is in

this ?


They parted ; and Richard his pastimes beWho was drowned in Richard's Mill-pond. 'Twas Richard the jovial, the soul of all fun;

| Each dancing bout, drinking bout, Dick Tune-Collins's Mulberry Tree.'

would attend Quoth Richard to Bob, •Let things go as And he sung and he swore, nor once thought they will,

of the end.

[plain, Of pleasure and fun I will still have my fill; Young Molly he courted, the pride of the lo frolic and mirth I see nothing amiss, He promis'd' her marriage, but promis'd in And though I get tipsy, what harmis in this? vain ;

[done, For e'en Solomon says, and I vow he says She trusted his vows, but she soon was untruth,

[youth.' And when she lamented, he thought it good Rejoice, young man, in the days of thy fun,

[wild, 'I'm glad,' answered Bob, you're of Solo- Thus scorn'd by her Richard, sad Molly run mon's creed,

[proceed ;| And roam'd through the woods with her But I beg, if you quote him, you'll please to *For GOD (as the wise man continues to 'Till Molly and Molly's poor baby were sing)

found, Thy soul into judgment for all this will bring. One evening, in Richard's own mill-pond Thus a man may get plung'd in a wofül both drown'd. abyss,

[this? Then his conscience grew troubled by night By choosing to say, Pray what harṁ is in and by day, "Conne, come,' says gay Richard, don't But its clamour he drown'd in more drink grudge me a cup,

and more play; I'm resolv'd, while I'm able, I'll still keep Still Robert exhorted, and like a true friend it up;

[there's bliss, He warn’d him and pray'd him to think on Let old' gray-beards deny that in frolic the end ! I'll game, love, and drink and what harm Now disturb'd in his dreams, poor Molly is in this ?

each night Says Robert, • I grant if you live for to-day, With her babe stood before him, how sad You may game, love, and drink, and may l . was the sight ! frolic away;

(tend, 10 how ghastly she look'd as she bade him But then, my dear Dick, I again must con attend, That the Wise Man has bid us-Remember And so awfully told him, •Remember the the end!

[old age end.' Says Richard, “When sickness or peevish She talk'd of the woes and unquenchable fire Shall advance to dismiss me from life's mer. Which await the licentious, the drunkarı, ry stage; [amiss, and liar :

(beware, Repentance just then, boy, may not be l How he ruin'd more maidens, she bade him

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