VIII. But oh! if fickle and unchafte, (Forgive a tranfient thought) Thou could become unkind at last, And scorn thy prefent lot, IX. No need of lightnings from on high, Or kites with cruel beak; Denied the endearments of thine eye, This widowed heart would break. X. Thus fang the sweet fequeftered bird, A FABLE: A RAVEN, while with gloffy breaft Shook the young leaves about her ears, (For ravens, though as birds of omen They teach both conjurers and old women To tell us what is to befall, Can't prophefy themselves at all.) The morning came, when neighbour Hodge, Who long had marked her airy lodge, And deftined all the treasure there A gift to his expecting fair, Climbed like a squirrel to his dray, MORAL. 'Tis Providence alone fecures In every change both mine and your's: From dangers of a frightful shape; A COMPARISON. THE lapfe of time and rivers is the fame, And a wide ocean fwallows both at laft. A difference ftrikes at length the mufing heart; ANOTHER. ADDRESSED TO A YOUNG LADY. SWEET ftream, that winds through yonder glade, Apt emblem of a virtuous maid Silent and chafte fhe fteals along, Far from the world's gay bufy throng; With gentle yet prevailing force, |