In lowest self-abjection, in the depths
Of sad compunction, of repentance due
And undissembled, to thy cross it cleaves,
And cries for ardent cries for mercy, Lord!
Mercy, its only refuge! Mercy, Christ!
By the red drops that in the garden gush'd
'Midst thy soul's anguish from thee; By the drops
That down thy precious temples from the crown
Of agony distill'd! By those that flow'd
From thy pierced hands and blessed feet so free;
By all thy blood, thy sufferings, and thy death,
Mercy, oh Mercy, Jesus! Mercy, Thou
Who erst on David, with a clement eye,
When mourning at thy footstool, deign'dst to look. Thou, who the adulterous Magdalen forgav'st, When in the winning garb of penitence
Contrite she knelt, and with her flowing tears
Wash'd lowly thy loved feet! Nor thou the thief,
Even in the last, the bitterest hour of pain,
Refusedst, gracious! Nor wilt thou refuse
My humble supplication, nor reject
My broken bleeding heart, thus offer'd up
On true contrition's altar; while thro' thee,
Only thro' Thee acceptance do I hope,
Thou bleeding Love! Consummate Advocate,
Prevailing Intercessor! Oh look pitying down!
On thy sufficient merits I depend;
From thy unbounded mercies I implore
The look of pardon, and the voice of grace,-
Grace, Grace!-Victorious Conqueror over sin,
O'er death, o'er Hell, for me, for all mankind;
For grace I plead: repentant at thy feet
I throw myself, unworthy, lost, undone;
Trusting my soul, and all its dear concerns,
With filial resignation to thy will:
Grace,-still on grace my whole reliance built:
Glory to grace triumphant!-And to thee,
Dispenser bounteous of that sovereign grace!
Jesus, thou King of glory! at thy call
I come obedient: lo, the future world
Expands its views transporting! Lord, I come;
And in that world eternal trust to 'plaud,
With all Redemption's sons, thy glorious grace!
Then farewell, oh, my friends! light o'er my grave
The green sod lay, and dew it with the tear
Of memory affectionate! and you,
-The curtain dropt decisive, oh my foes,
Your rancour drop; and, candid, as I am
Speak of me, hapless! Then you'll speak of one
Whose bosom beat at pity's gentlest touch
From earliest infancy; whose boyish mind
In acts humane and tender ever joy'd;
And who, that temper by his inmost sense
Approved and cultivate with constant care,
Melted thro' life at Sorrow's plaintive tale;
And urged, compassionate, with pleasure ran
To soothe the sufferer and relieve the woe!
Of one, who, though to humble fortune bred,
With splendid generosity's bright form
Too ardently enamour'd, turn'd his sight,
Deluded, from frugality's just care,
And parsimony needful! one who scorn'd
Mean love of gold, yet to that power,—his scorn
Retorting vengeful,-a mark'd victim fell!
Of one, who, unsuspecting, and ill-form'd
For the world's subtleties, his bare breast bore
Unguarded, open; and ingenuous, thought
All men ingenuous, frank, and open too!
Of one, who, warm with human passions, soft
To tenderest impressions, frequent rush'd
Precipitate into the tangling maze
Of errour;-instant to each fault alive.
Who, in his little journey through the world-
Misled, deluded oft, mistook his way;
Met with bad roads and robbers, for his steps
Insidious lurking: and, by cunning craft
Of fellow-travellers sometimes deceived,
Severely felt of cruelty and scorn,
Of envy, malice, and of ill report,
The heavy hand oppressive! One who brought
(From ignorance, from indiscretion, blind,)
Ills numerous on hi head; but never aim'd,
Nor wish'd an ill or injury to man!
Injured, with cheerful readiness forgave;
Nor for a moment in his happy heart
Harbour'd of malice or revenge a thought:
Still glad and blest to avenge his foes despite
By deeds of love benevolent !-Of one-
Oh painful contradiction, who in God,
In duty, placed the summit of his joy;
Yet left that God, that blissful duty left,
Preposterous, vile deserter! and received
A just return" Desertion from his God,
"And consequential plunge into the depth
"Of all his present-of all human woe!"
The father of this writer kept a Tavern; it was frequented by the players, and thus young Kelly's attention was attracted to the theatre. The boy went through the Latin Grammar, but his education did not proceed farther; he was apprenticed at an early age to a Stay-maker; the players, however, flattered him; he had written songs, theatrical criticism, &c. and was persuaded to try his fortune in London as a man of talents. There he attempted to carry on his business, his friends the players recommended him, and he had employment enough, but his work was ill-finished and dirty, his customers forsock him, and he was saved from want by the offer of an attorney to engage him as a copying clerk at fifteen shillings a-week This income he increased by writing paragraphs for one of the Daily papers; the underling Bookseliers discovered that he held the pen of a ready writer, and offered him more profitable work in the Magazines, and having no other means of subsistence, he ventured at the age of two and twenty, to marry a woman who had sup
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