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The dame, who own’d, adorn’d the place;
Imagine now the table clear,
“ Faith, friends, our errand is but vain
WIT, INNOCENCE, and HARMONY.
THE SWEET NEGLECT.
STILL to be neat, still to be drest,
you were going to a feast;
THE HIERMIT AND HIS DOG.
IN life's fair morn, I knew an aged seer,
Who fad and lonely pass’d his joyless year; Betray'd, heart-broken, from the world he ran, And sunn'd, oh, dire extreme! the face of man ; Humbly he rear'd his hut within the wood, Hermit his veft, an hermit's was his food. Nitch'd in some corner of the gelid cave Where chilling drops the rugged rock-stone lave; Hour after hour, the melancholy sage, Drop after drop, to reckon, would engage The ling’ring day, and trickling as they fell, A tear went with them to the narrow well; Then thus he moraliz’d, as flow it pass’d, “ This brings me nearer LUCIA than the last; “And this, now streaming from the eye,” said he, “ Oh, my lov'd child! will bring me nearer thee.”
When first he roam’d, his dog with anxious care, His wand'rings watch’d, as emulous to share ; In vain the faithful brute was bid to go, In vain the forrower fought a lonely woe. The HERMIT paus'd, th' attendant dog was near, Slept at his feet, and caught the falling tear; Up rose the HERMIT, up the dog would risé, And ev'ry way to win a master tries.-“ Then be it io. Come, faithful fool," he said ; One pat encourag’d, and they fought the shade An unfrequented thicket foon they found, And both repos’d upon the leafy ground; Mellifluous murm’rings told the fountains nigh, Fountains, which wel a pilgrim's drink supply: And thence, by many a labyrinth led, Where ev'ry tree bestow'd an ev’ning bed. Skill'd in the chace the faithful creature brought Whate'er at morn or moon-light course he caught; But the fage lent his sympathy to all, Nor faw unwept his dumb associates fall,
He was, in footh, the gentlest of his kind, And, though an hermir, had a social mind: “ And why,” said he, “ muft man sublift by prey? “ Why, stop yon melting music on the spray? “ Why, when assail'd by hounds and hunters' cry, “ Must half the harmless race in terrors die ? " Why must we work of innocence the woe? “ Still shall this bofom throb, thefe eyes o'erflow: “ An heart too tender here, from man, retires, “ An heart that aches, if but a wren expires.” Thus liv'd the matter good, the servant true, 'Till to its God the master's fpirit flew; Beside a fount, which daily water gave, Stooping to drink, the Hermit found a grave; All in the running stream his garments spread, And dark, damp verdure ill conceal'd his head; The faithful SERVANT from that fatal day Watch'd the lov’d corse, and hourly pin'd away: His head upon his master's cheek was found, While the obstructed water mourn'd around.
TO THE FEATHER'D RACE. AGAIN the balmy zephyr blows,
Fresh verdure decks the grove, Each bird with vernal rapture glows,
And tunes his note to love. Ye gentle warblers, hither fly,
And shun the noon-tide heat;
My groves a safe retreat.
Or weave the moffy neit;
At night here sweetly rest.
That trickles down the glade,
And revel in the thade.
No school-boy rude, to mischief prone,
E’er shews his ruddy face,
In this fequefter'd place.
Secure the LINNET fings,
To clog her painted wings.
Yon distant woods among,
Thy sweetly-plaintive song.
Domestic bird, to come
With one that loves his home!
Shall store of fruit preferve;
Come!-feed without reserve.
To you these plumbs belong :
But sweeter far your song:
Our mutual int'refis guard :
Your songs be my reward.
Some boundless contiguity of thade,
heart's Just estimation priz'd above all price, I had much rather be myself the SLAVE, And wear the bonds, than faften them on him. We have no SLAVES home-then why abroad? And they themselves once ferry'd o'er the wave, That parts us, are emancipate and loos’d. SLAVEs cannot breathe in ENGLAND; if their lungs Receive our air, that moment they are free; They touch our country, and their shackles fall. That's noble, and bespeaks a nation proud And jealous of the blessing. Spread it, then, And let ít circulate through ev'ry vein Of all your empire. That where BRITAIN's pow'r Is felt, mankind may feel her MERCY too.