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HE hinds how blest, who ne'er beguiled

to quit their hamlet's hawthorn wild, nor haunt the crowd, nor tempt the main for splendid care and guilty gain! When morning's twilight-tinctur'd beam strikes their low thatch with slanting gleam, they rove abroad in ether blue, to dip the scythe in fragrant dew; the sheaf to bind, the beech to fell, that nodding shades a craggy dell.

'Midst gloomy glades, in warbles clear, wild nature's sweetest notes they hear: on green untrodden banks they view the hyacinth's neglected hue: in their lone haunts, and woodland rounds, they spy the squirrel's airy bounds; and startle from her ashen spray, across the glen, the screaming jay: each native charm their steps explore of Solitude's sequestered store.

348 For them the moon with cloudless ray

mounts to illume their homeward way;
their weary spirits to relieve,
the meadows incense breathe at eve.
No riot mars the simple fare,
that o'er a glimmering hearth they share;
but when the curfew's measured roar
duly, the darkening valleys o'er,
has echoed from the distant town,
they wish no beds of cygnet-down,
no trophied canopies, to close
their drooping eyes in quick repose.

Their humble porch with honied flowers, the curling woodbine's shade imbowers: from the small garden's thymy mound their bees in busy swarm resound: nor fell Disease, before his time, hastes to consume life's golden prime:

but when their temples long have wore
the silver crown of tresses hoar;
as studious still calm peace to keep,
beneath a flowery turf they sleep.


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URE thou didst flourish once! and many Springs,

many bright mornings, much dew, many showers past o'er thy head; many light hearts and wings,

which now are dead, lodg'd in thy living bowers. And still a new succession sings and flies;

fresh groves grow up and their green branches shoot towards the old and still enduring skies;

while the low violet thrives at their root.

But thou beneath the sad and heavy line

of death dost waste all senseless, cold and dark; where not so much as dreams of light may shine,

nor any thought of greenness, leaf or bark. And yet, as if some deep hate and dissent,

bred in thy growth betwixt high winds and thee, were still alive, thou dost great storms resent,

before they come, and know'st how near they be. Else all at rest thou lyest, and the fierce breath

of tempests can no more disturb thy ease;
but this thy strange resentment after death
means only those who broke in life thy peace.





whose lives a peaceful tenor keep;
the Power who pities man, has shown
a blessing for the eyes that weep.
The light of smiles shall fill again
the lids that overflow with tears;
and weary hours of woe and pain
are promises of happier years.

There is a day of sunny rest
for every dark and troubled night;
and grief may bide an evening guest,
but joy shall come with early light.
And thou, who o'er thy friend's low bier
sheddest the bitter drops like rain,
hope that a brighter, happier sphere
will give him to thy arms again.
For God has marked each sorrowing day
and numbered every secret tear,
and heaven's long age of bliss shall pay
for all his children suffer here.


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that seem'd for pure devotion made
in holy rapture stretch'd along

(Urania lay to aid my song)
I tun'd my voice and touch'd the lyre

while heav'nly themes the Muse inspire ;
I sung the beauties of the grove
I sung th’ Almighty power above,

but striving more my notes to raise,

and to my subject suit my lays, a string o'erstrain'd, in pieces few,

and sudden from its place withdrew. Under my hand the chord I found,

but lost alas! the sprightly sound.
So pierc'd by Death's relentless dart

we view the lifeless earthly part,
the soul invisible takes wing
as sound that leaves the breaking string.




THE snow, that crowns each mountain's brow,

and whitens every spray,
fom each high rock and loaded bough

will quickly melt away;

soon as the sun's reviving ray

shall warm the northern gale;
and Zephyrs mild their wing display

to wanton in the vale.
When Time upon thine aged brow

shall shed the fatal shower;
the hoary frost, the chilling snow,

will melt from thence no more.
Quick summer flies, and autumn's suns,

and winter's cheerless gloom;
in changeful turn each season runs,

and spring breathes new perfume.
Unchanged o'er us the tempest low'rs,

till death's last hour arrives:
nor robe, nor garland deck'd with flowers,

the bloom of life revives.
What youth on us but once bestows,

age once shall snatch away:
but Fame can stop the fatal blows,

and double life's short day.
Long shall he live, whose bright career

deserv'd a patriot's sigh;
all else flies with the fleeting year,

but Fame can never die.




Twould less vex distressed man

I Tir wpulu hes in the same space, gan

to ruin him, as he did rise;
but highest states fall in a trice.
No great success held ever long:
a restless fate afflicts the throng
of Kings and Commons, and less days
serve to destroy them, than to raise.
Gook luck iles once an age, but bad
makes kingdoms in a minute sad,
and every hour of life we drive,
hath o'er us a prerogative.
Then leave (by wild Impatience driven,
and rash resents,) to rail at heaven,

leave an unmanly, weak complaint
that Death and Fate have no restraint.
In the same hour, that gave thee breath,
thou hadst ordained thy hour of death,
but he lives most, who here will buy
with a few tears eternity.




W Hed by the A\mighty's hand

THEN Israel was from bondage led,

from out a foreign land,
the great sea beheld and fled.
As men pursu'd, when that fear past they find,
stop on some higher ground to look behind,
so whilst through wondrous ways

the sacred army went,
the waves afar stood up to gaze,

and their own rocks did represent,
solid as waters are above the firmament.
Old Jordan's waters to their spring

start back with sudden fright;

the spring amazed at sight,
asks what news from sea they bring.
The mountains shook, and to the mountain's side
the little hills leapt round themselves to hide;
as young affrighted lambs,

when they ght dreadful spy,
run trembling to their helpless dams,

the mighty sea and river by
were glad for their excuse to see the hills to fly.





HW was one honoured in the midst of the people

his He was as the morning star in the midst of the cloud, and as the moon at the full; as the sun shining upon the temple of the most High, and as the rainbow giving light in the bright clouds: and as the flower of roses in the spring of the year, as lilies by the rivers of waters,

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