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Come, ever welcome to my breast!
A tender, but a cheerful guest ;
Nor always in the gloomy cell
Of life-consuming Sorrow dwell;
For Sorrow, long-indulged and slow,
Is to Humanity a foe;
And Grief, that makes the heart its prey,
Wears Sensibility away,
Why comes sweet nymph, instead of thee,
The gloomy fiend, Stupidity?

O may that fiend be banish'd far,
Though passions hold eternal war!
Nor ever let me cease to know,
The pulse that throbs at joy, or woe;
Nor let my vacant cheek be dry,
When sorrow fills a brother's eye;
Nor may the tear that frequent flows
From private, or from social woes,
E'er make this pleasing sense depart,
Ye Cares, O harden not my heart.

If the fair star of Fortune smile,
Let not its flattering power beguile;
Nor borne along the favouring tide,
My full sails swell with bloating pride..

Let me from wealth but hope conten.,
Remembering still it was but lent;
To modest merit spread my store,
Unbar my hospitable door;
Nor feed, for pomp, an idle train,
While want unpitied pines in vain.

If heaven, in every purpose wise,
The envied lot of wealth denies ;
If doom'd to drag life's painful load
Through poverty's uneven road,
And, for the due bread of the day,
Destined to toil as well as pray ;
To thee, Humanity, still true,
I'll wish the good I cannot do;
And give the wretch, that passes by,
A soothing word--a tear--a sigh.

Howe'er extracted, or deprest,
Be ever mine the feeling breast,
From me remove the stagnant mind
Of languid indolence, reclined ;
The soul that one long Sabbath keeps,
And through the sun's whole circle sleeps;
Dull peace, that dwells in Folly's eye,
And self-attending vanity.

Alike, the foolish, and the vain;
Are strangers to the sense humane.

O for that sympathetick glow
Which taught the holy tear to flow,
When the prophetick eye survey'd
Sion in future ages laid;
Ør, raised to heaven, implored the bread
That thousands in the desert fed !
Or, when the heart o’er friendship’s grave,
Sigli’d;—and forgot its power to save-
O for that sympathetick glow
Which taught the holy tear to flow!

It comes: It fills my labouring breast !
I feel my beating heart opprest. .
Oh! hear that lonely widow's wail!
See her dim eye, her aspect pale!
To heaven she turns in deep despair,
Her infants wonder at her prayer,
And mingling tears they know not why,
Lift up their little hands, and cry,
O God! their moving sorrow see!
Support them, sweet Humanity!

Life, fill'd with griefs' distressful train,
For ever asks the tear humane,

Behold, in you unconscious grove,
The victiins of ill-fated love!
Heard you that agonizing throe?
Sure this is not romantick woe!
The golden day of joy is o'er ;
And now they part - lo meet no more.
Assist them hearts from anguish free!
Assist them, sweet Humanity!

Parent of virtue, if thine ear

Attend not now to sorrow's cry i If now the pity streaming tear

Should haply on thy cheek be dry, Indulge my votive strain, O sweet Humanity !

Rural Simplicity, an Ode.

OTHOU, whom Love and Fancy lead,

To wander near this woodland hill,

If ever musick soothed thy quill,
Or pity waked thy gentle reed,

Reposę beneath my humble tree,
If thou lovest Şimplicity.

Stranger, if thy lot has laid

In toilsome scenes of busy life,

Full sorely may’st thou see the strife, Of weary passions ill repaid,

In a garden live like me, If thou lovest Simplicity.

Flowers have sprung for many a year,

O'er the village maiden's grave,

That, one memorial-spring to save, Bore it from a sister's bier ; And homeward walking, wept o'er me The true tears of simplicity.

And soon, her cottage-window near,

With care my slender stem she placed,

And fondly thus her grief embraced,
And cherish'd sad remembrance dear;

For love sincere and friendship free,
Are children of Simplicity.

When past was many a painful day,

Slow-pacing o'er the village-green

In white were all its maidens seen,
And love my guardian friend away.

Oh, Death! what sacrifice to thee
The ruins of Simplicity.

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