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ERE, Stanley, rest, escap'd this mortal strife,

Above the joys, beyond the woes of life.
Fierce pangs no more thy lively beauties stain,
And sternly try thee with a year of pain:
No more sweet patience, feigning oft relief,
Lights thy sick eye, to cheat a parent's grief:
With tender art, to save her anxious groan,
No more thy bosom presses down its own:
Now well-earn’d peace is thine, and bliss sincere:
Ours be the lenient, not unpleasing tear!

O born to bloom, then sink beneath the storm;
To show us Virtue in her fairest form;
To show us artless Reason's moral reign,
What boastful Science arrogates in vain;
Th'obedient paflions knowing each their part;
Calm light the head, and harmony the heart!

Yes, we must follow foon, will glad obey,
When a few suns have roll’d their cares away,
Tir'd with vain life, will close the willing eye:
"Tis the great birth-right of mankind to die.
Blest be the bark! that wafts us to the shore,
Where death-divided friends shall part no more:
To join thee there, here with thy dust repose,
Is all the hope thy hapless mother knows.


The Rev. Mr. MURDOCH,



THU 'HUS safely low, my friend, thou can't not fall:

Here reigns a deep tranquillity o'er all; No noise, no care, no vanity, no ftrife; Men, woods and fields, all breathe untroubled life. Then keep each passion down, however dear; Trust me, the tender are the most severe. Guard, while 'tis thine, thy philofophic ease, And ask no joy but that of virtuous peace; That bids defiance to the storms of fate: High bliss is only for a higher state.








WHEN my breast labours with oppreflive care,

And o'er cheek descends the falling tear;
While all my warring passions are at strife,
O, let me listen to the words of life!
Raptures deep-felt his doctrine did impart,
And thus he rais'd from earth the drooping heart:

Think not, when all, your scanty stores afford,
Is spread at once upon the sparing board;
Think not, when worn the homely robe appears,
While, on the roof, the howling tempest bears;
What farther shall this feeble life fustain,
And what shall clothe these shiv'ring limbs again.
Say, does not life its nourishment exceed?
And the fair body its investing weed?

Behold! and look away your low despair
See the light tenants of the barren air:
To them, nor stores, nor granaries, belong,
Nought, but the woodland, and the pleasing fong;


Yet, your kind heavenly Father bends his eye
On the least wing, that fits along the sky.
To him they fing, when Spring renews the plain,
To him they cry, in Winter's pinching reign;
Nor is their music nor their plaint in vain:
He hears the gay, and the distressful call,
And with unfparing bounty fills them all.

Observe the rising lily's snowy grace,
Observe the various vegetable race;
They neither toil, nor spin, but careless grow,
Yet see how warm they blush! how bright they glow!
What regal vestments can with them compare !
What king fo shining ! or what queen so fair!

If, ceaseless, thus the fowls of heaven he feeds,
If o'er the fields such lucid robes he spreads;
Will he not care for you, ye faithless, fay?
Is he unwise? or, are ye less than they?

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NE day the God of fond desire,

On mischief bent, to Damon said, Why not disclose your tender fire,

Not own it to the lovely maid?

The shepherd mark'd his treacherous art,

And, foftly fighing, thus reply'd : 'Tis true you have subdu'd my heart,

But shall not triumph o'er my pride.

The slave in private only bears

Your bondage, who his love conceals; But when his passion he declares,

You drag him at your chariot-wheels.

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ARD is the fate of him who loves,

Yet dares not tell his trembling pain, But to the sympathetic groves,

But to the lonely listening plain.

Oh! when she blesses next your shade,

Oh! when her footsteps next are seen
In flowery tracks along the mead,
In fresher mazes 'o'er the

green, VOL. I.


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