moral amusement, and the public with a novel example. A devout hope is cherished that the owner will not blush, on laying this production in a library with the works of the meek and moral Bloomfield, the sedate and stately Montgomery, and the pious and intelligent Hannah Moore. Without waiting for the fashionable formality of a public recommendation, sanctioned by the signature of great names, the aged author, perceiving the lamp of life to be dying in its socket, prefers to diminish the pain of impatience, peculiar to youthful minds, by furnishing the friendly citizens of the U. S. A. with copies of these mental efforts. Should the public approve the plan, of implanting a name in the garden of truth, adorned with the flowers of poetry, whereby the word of GOD is reconcilable with common sense, and common reason, taste, and duty, it may perhaps, blunt the sting of the sharp arrow of death, (to a dying man) which ends man's earthly sorrow.

A NATIVE OF NEW-ENGLAND.

Pembroke, June 5th 1824.

THE MUSES.

Exeter Hymn.

GOD of mercy, heaven's Creator,
Win thy children to thy love,
May the lovely sons of nature,
Heirs of grace and glory prove.

Must we see our kindred dying, Youth and friends go down to dust; Still on native strength relying, Making earthly joys their trust?

Lo that lamp of life expiring,
Cannot in that bosom burn;
Soon the soul in death retiring
May in deepest sorrow mourn.

Earth may take our forms to morrow, Let us ther be wise to day:

Heaven receives the soul of sorrow,
Made by grace to praise and pray.

Christ has died for all the living,
None but scorners are unblest;
View him smiling, offering, giving
Weary souls eternal rest.

Let us flee from sin's dominions,
Tread the path the Saviour trod;
Who would halt between opinions,
Knowing that the Lord is God.

Where, ah where's the consolation,
Which the pious pilgrims felt?
Has Religion left its station,

Where our worthy fathers dwelt?

Mortals, view the Saviour's merit,
Seek the blessings which He gave;

Holy dove-celestial spirit

Thou canst wake, and warm, and save.

Let thy power be here imparted,

Ere the sun of life shall set : For the wounded broken hearted, Mercy beams for siners yet.

aith and grace, good works attending,
With affections fix'd above,

Toin'd with constant prayer ascending,

Fits the soul for endless love.

Dear Mary,

LETTER TO MARY.

Exeter N. H. Feb. 26th 1822.

Your kind and affectionate Letter cannot be answered. It is dated Sabbath afternoon, and sanctioned by a Mother's signature, whose parental duty requires that you be led in the path of piety.-Accept the effusions of an embittered soul this day between the hours of breakfast and dinner.

FAREWELL, O ye joys that are fled,
Once lost ye will never return;
Ah, lost like the names of the dead,
While few of the living will mourn.

Ah, lost, is the hand that could save,
In anguish, in sorrow and tears;
The nearer I draw to the grave,
More pleasant life's journey appears.

Unkindness and cruelty come,

Comfirm'd by the mandate of court,