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IV. Religion! what treasure untold

Rosides in that heavenly word ! More precious than silver and gold,

Or all that this earth can afford. But the sound of the church-going hell

These valleys and rocks never heard, Never sighid at the sound of a knell,

Or snilld when a sabbath appear'd.

V. Yo winds that have made me your sport,

Convey to this desolate shore Some cordial endearing report

Of a land I shali visit no more. My friends, do they now and then sond

A wish or a thought after me? O tell me I yet have a friend,

Though a friend I am never to sce.


How fleet is a glance of the inind !

Compar d with the speed of its flight, The tempest itself lags behind,

And the swift-winged arrows of light, When I think of my own native land,

In a moment I seem to be there; But, alas ! recollection at hand

Soon hurries me back to despair.


But tho soa-fowl is gone to hor nest,

The beast is laid down in his lair; Even here is a season of rost,

And I to my cabin repair. There's mercy in every place,

And mercy, oncouraging thought! Gives even affliction a grace,

And reconciles man to his lot



To the Lord High Chancellorship of Englanil.

ROUND Thurlow's head, in early youth,

And in his sportive days,
Fair Science pour'd the light of truth
And Genius shed Iris ray:

See ! witn united wonder, criod

Th' experienc'd and tho sage,
Ambition in a boy supplied
With all the skill of age !

Discernment, eloquence, and grace,

Proclaim him born to sway
The balance in the highest place,
And bear the palm away.

T'ho praise bestow'd was just and wise,

He sprang impetuous forth,
Secure of conquest, where the prize

Attends superiour worth.

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I. COME, peace of mind, delightful guest ! Ret wn and inako ihy downy liost

Once more in this sad heart : Nor riches I nor pow'r pursuc, Nor hold forbidden joys in view ; We therefore need not part.

Where wilt thou dwell, if not with me,
From av'rice and anıbition free,

And pleasure's fatal wiles ?
For whom, alas! dest thou prepare
The sweets that I was wont to sharo,
The banquet of thy smiles ?

Tho great, the gay, shall they partake,
The Heav'n that thou alone canst make ?

And wilt thou quit the streami
That murmurs through the dewy mead,
The grove and the sequester'd shed
To be a guest with them?

For thee I panted, thee I priz'd,
For thee I gladly sacrific'd

Whate'er I lov'd before ;
And shall I sce thee start away,
And lielpless, hopeless, hear theo bay

Farewell! we mect no more?
Vol. I



WEAK and irresolute is man ;

The purpose of to-day,
Woven with pains into his plan,
To-morrow rends away.

The bow well bent, and smart the spring,

Vice scems already slain ;
But Passion rudely snaps the string,
And it revives again.

Some foe to his upright intent

Finds out his weaker part;
Virtue engages his assent,
But Pleasure wins his heart.

1Ꮩ. .
Tis hero the folly of the wise

Through all his heart we view;
And, while his tongue the chargo denies,
His conscience owns it true.

Bound on a voyage of awful length

And dangers little known,
A stranger to superiour strength,
Man vainly trusts his own.

But oars alone can ne'er prevail,

To reach the distant coast;
The breath ot'Heav'n nust swell the sail,

Or all the toil is lost.


REBELLION is my thome all day:

I orily wish 'twould come,
(As who knows but perhaps it may ?)
A little nearer home.

Yon roaring boys, who rave and fight

On t'other side th’ Atlantick,
I always held thein in the right,
But most so when most frantick.

When lawless mobs insult the court,

That man shall be my toast,
If breaking windows be the sport,
Who bravely breaks the most.

But, O! for him my fancy culls

The choicest flow'rs she bears,
Who constitutionally pulls
Your house about your ears.

Such civil broils are my delight,

Though somo folks can't endure them,
Who say the mob are mad outright,
And that a ropo must cure them.

A rope ! I wish we patriots had

Such strings for all who need 'em-
What ! hang a man for going mad !

Then farewell British freedom.

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