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Feels thy dread pow'r another heart afford,
Whose passion-touch'd harmonious strings accord
True as the circling spheres to Nature's plan;
And man, the brother, lives the friend of man!
“ Bright as the pillar rose at Hear'n's command,
When Israel march'd along the desert land,
Blaz'd through the night on lonely wilds afar,
And told the path-a never-setting star :
So, heav'nly Genius, in thy course divine,
Hope is thy star, her light is ever thine.”
Propitious Pow'r! when rankling cares annoy
The sacred home of Hymenean joy;
When doom'd to Poverty's sequester'd dell,
The wedded pair of love and virtue dwell,
Unpitied by the world, unknown to fame,
Their woes, their wishes, and their hearts the same
Oh there, prophetic Hope! thy smile bestow,
And chase the pangs that worth should never know
There, as the parent deals his scanty store
To friendless babes, and weeps to give no more,
Tell, that his manly race shall yet assuage
Their father's wrongs, and shield his later age.
What though for him no Hybla sweets distill,
Nor bloomy vines wave purple on the hill;
Tell, that when silent years have pass' away,
That when his eyes grow dim, his tresses gray,
These busy hands a lovelier cot shall build,
And deck with fairer flow'rs his little field,
And call from Heav'n propitious dews to breathe
Arcadian beauty on the barren heath;
So, at the couch where infant beauty sleeps,
Her silent watch the mournful mother keeps.
Publish as the det direct or Lengman & Rees lugust 23. 1802.
Tell, that while Love's spontaneous smile endears
The days of peace, the sabbath of his years,
Health shall prolong to many a festive hour
The social pleasures of his humble bower.
Lo! at the couch where infant beauty sleeps,
Her silent watch the mournful mother keeps;
She, while the lovely babe unconscious lies,
Smiles on her slumb’ring child with pensive eyes,
And weaves a song of melancholy joy~
“Sleep, image of thy father, sleep, my boy:
No ling'ring hour of sorrow shall be thine ;
No sigh that rends thy father's heart and mine;
Bright as his manly sire, the son shall be
In form and soul; but, ah! more blest than he !