Jesus, the Man! the incarnate, saving friend! To thy admiring thoughts they more commend;
He, who thy Nature bore, thy sins attoned,
Is Lord of all this vast Creation own'd.
If lessen'd by the view thyself thou see,
The more his love it magnifies for thee.
He was Secretary to the Society for the encouragement of Agriculture, Arts, &c.
The specimen is taken from a volnme of Essays, Letters, and Poems, published, 1781.
To her loved lord, who on a hostile shore,
Sees the war rage, and hears the cannons roar
To her loved lord, on whom her life depends;
These tender lines distress'd Lavinia sends.
I write, (sad task !) that helps to wear away
The long, long, mournful, melancholy day,
Write what the fervours of my soul inspire,
And vainly fan love's slow consuming fire.
With unawailing sorrow sunk, I grow,
A silent, weeping, monument of woe!
Yet hope's kind rays, sometimes afford relief,
And, for a moment, chase the clouds of grief;
Past scenes of bliss, in vision, I survey,
When pleasure led the smiling hours of day:
But soon, ah! soon, the fleeting phantoms fly,
And real woes their vacant place supply.
O memory, source of happiness or woe,
As from thy stores past joys or sorrows flow,
How oft hast thou recall'd those happy hours,
Enjoy'd, by silver streams, in blooming bowers;
While every breeze that fann'd the conscious grove
Wafted around our vows of mutual love;
When I his suit with modest blush approved,
And sighs unconscious told how well I loved;
When he, enamour'd, snatch'd me to his arms,
And gazed, delighted, on my youthful charms!
To witness calling every power above,
He vow'd a fix'd, inviolable love;
A love sublime as fervent as inspires
Celestial bosoms with ethereal fires !
Then I too fondly trusted female power,
And like the present, deem'd the future hour:
I hoped, that bound by love's cementing tie,
From these fond arms my Martio ne'er would fly.
Alas, how vain!-The fields of combat claim
His only care, and love submits to fame.
Oh! how couldst thou thy dear Lavinia leave,
To trust the dangers of the faithless wave!
Or how forsake thy peaceful native land,
To meet fierce conflicts on a foreign strand;
Where hell-born discord holds her dreadful
Where rages war, with dire destructive force!
Where dying groans from wounded soldiers rise, And nought but death and horrour meet thine eyes!
When that sad hour arrived, which from my arms Snatch'd thy dear form, and fill'd me with alarms, Soon as thy bark, unmoor'd, with flying sails Plough'd the green flood, and flew before the
(While, loud resounding, roar'd the deeps below,)
Up the steep cliff, with labouring steps and slow,
My way I bent, and, with a tearful eye,
Trembling, beheld the lessening vessel fly:
The lofty masts diminish'd in my view,
And crimson streamers wore a doubtful hue :
Swift fled the ship, beyond the reach of sight,
Lost in blue mists that usher'd in the night.
Then a cold shivering seiz'd my languid frame:
I fell, and soon insensible became.
O had that moment giv'n me to the skies,
And kindly finish'd all my miseries;
Then had my tears for ever ceased to run,
And these sad numbers ne'er had been begun!
But my attendants, with officious haste,
Recall'd my fleeting soul, again to taste
The cup of woe which Martio's absence brings,
And feel the force of sorrow's sharpest stings.
Then, frantick with despair, my hair I tore:
My loud lamentings echo'd round the shore.
Life I disdain'd; but 'twas my hapless fate
To wish in vain my death to antedate.
At length, a flood of tears, the friends of grief,
Incessant flow'd, and gave my soul relief:
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