A COMPARISON.

THE lapse of time and rivers is the fame, Both speed their journey with a restless stream, The filent pace with which they steal away, No wealth can bribe, no pray'rs perfuade to ftay, Alike irrevocable both when past,

And a wide ocean fwallows both at last.

Though each resemble each in ev'ry part,

A difference ftrikes at length the mufing heart; Streams never flow in vain; where ftreams abound, How laughs the land with various plenty crown'd ! But time that should enrich the nobler mind, Neglected, leaves a dreary waste behind.

ANOTHER.

Addreffed to a YOUNG LADY.

SWEET ftream that winds through yonder

glade,

Apt emblem of a virtuous maid

Silent

Silent and chaste she steals along

Far from the world's gay 'bufy throng,

With gentle yet prevailing force

Intent her deftin'd course,

upon

VERSES, supposed to be written by ALEXANDER SELKIRK, during his folitary Abode in the Island of JUAN FERNANDEZ.

1.

AM monarch of all I furvey,

My right there is none to difpute, From the center all round to the fea,

I am lord of the fowl and the brute. Oh folitude! where are the charms

That fages have seen in thy face? Better dwell in the midst of alarms,

Than reign in this horrible place.

2.

I am out of humanity's reach,

I must finish my journey alone,
Never hear the sweet mufic of fpeech,
I ftart at the found of my own.
The beasts that roam over the plain, bod
My form with indifference fee,

They are fo unacquainted with man,

Their tamenefs is fhocking to me.

3.

Society, friendship, and love,

Divinely bestow'd upon man,

Oh had I the wings of a dove,
How foon wou'd I tafte you again!

My forrows I then might affuage

In the ways of religion and truth, Might learn from the wisdom of age, And be cheer'd by the fallies of youth.

2. Reli

4.

Religion! what treasure untold la la.
Refides in that heav'nly word!

More precious than filver and gold,

...

But the found of the church going bell

These vallies and rocks never heard,

Ne'er figh'd at the found of a knell, ou

Or fmil'd when a sabbath appear'd.

Ye winds that have made me your sport,

Convey to this defolate fhore,esta di un l

Some cordial endearing report

Of a land I fhall vifit no more.

My friends do they now and then fend

A wish or a thought after me?

O tell me I yet have a friend,

Though a friend I am never to fee.

6.

How fleet is a glance of the mind!
Compar'd with the fpeed of its flight,
The tempeft itself lags behind,

And the swift-winged arrows of light.
When I think of my own native land,
In a moment I feem to be there;
But alas! recollection at hand

Soon hurries me back to despair.

7.

But the fea fowl is gone to her neft,
The beaft is laid down in his lair,
Ev'n here is a season of rest,

And I to my cabbin repair.

There is mercy in ev'ry place,

And mercy, encouraging thought !

Gives even affliction a grace,

And reconciles man to his lot.

On