« PreviousContinue »
ON A SIMILAR OCCASION,
FOR THE YEAR 1793.
De sacris autem koc sic una sententia, ut conseruentur.
Cic. de Leg. But let us all concur in this one sentiment, that things sacred bo inviolate.
He lives, who lives to God alone
And all are dead beside ,
Whence life can be supplied.'
To live to God is to requite
His love as best we may ::
His promises our stay..
But life, within a narrow ring
of giddy joys compris'd,
But rather death disguis'd.
Can life in them deserve the name,
Who only live to prove
An endless life above.
Who much diseas'd, yet nothing feel;
Much menac'd, nothing dread,
Yot never ask his aid ?
Who deem his house a useless place,
Faith want of common senso ; And ardour in the Christian race,
A hypocrito's pretence ?
Who trample order; and the day,
Which God asserts his own, Dishonour with unhallow'd play,
And worship chance alone ?
If scorn of God's commands, impress'd
On word and deed, imply
With life that cannot die;
Such want it, and that want uncus'd
Till man resigns his breath, Speaks him a criminal, assur'd
Of everlasting death.
Sad period to a pleasant course!
Yet so will God repay
And mercy cast away.
FOR THE TOMB CF MR. HAMILTON.
PAUSE here, and think: a monitory rhyme Demands one moment of thy fleeting time.
Consult life's silent clock, thy bounding vein ; Seems it to say—“ Health here has long to reign ?» Hast thou the vigour of thy youth? an eye That beams delight ? a heart untaught to sigh? Yet fear. Youth, ofttimes healthful and at ease, Anticipates a day it never sees; And many a tomb, like Hamilton's, aloud Exclaims,“ Prepare thee for an early shroud."
EPITAPH ON A HARE.
HERE lies, whom hound did ne'er pursue,
Nor swifter grayhound follow,
Nor ear heard huntsman's halloo, .
Oid Tiney, surliest of his kind,
Who, nurs'd with tender care, And to domestick bounds confin'd,
Was still a wild Jack-hare
Though duly from my hand he took
His pittance ev'ry night, He did it with a jealous look,
And, when he could, would bita,
His diet was of wheaten bread,
And milk, and oats, and straw; Thistles, or lettuces instead,
With sand to scour his maw.
On twigs of hawthorn he regal'd,
On pippen's russet peel,
Slic'd carrot pleas'd him well.
A turkey carpet was his lawn
Whereon he lov'd to bound, To skip and gambol like a fawn,
And swing his rump around.
His frisking was at ev'ning hours,
For then he lost his fear,
Or when a storm drew near.
Eight years and five round rolling moons
He thus saw steal away, Dozing out all his idle noons,
And ev'ry night at play.
I kept him for his humour's sake,
For he would oft beguile My heart of thoughts, that made it ache,
And force me to a smile.
But now beneath this walnut shade
He finds his long last home,
Till gentler Puss shall come
He, still more aged, feels the shocks,
From which no care can save, And, partner once of Tiney's box,
Must soon partake his grave.
Hic etiam jacet,
Et tecum sic reputa-
Et moriar ego.