The long remember'd beggar was his gueft,
Whole beard defcending fwept his aged breast:
The ruin'd spendthrift, now no longer proud,
Claim'd kindred there, and had his claims allow'd ;
The broken foldier, kindly bade to stay,
Sat by his fire, and talk'd the night away:
Wept o'er his wounds, or tales of forrow done,
Shoulder'd his crutch, and fhew'd how fields were won.
Pleas'd with his guests, the good man learn'd to glow,
And quite forgot their vices in their woe;
Careless their merits, or their faults to scan,
His pity gave ere charity began.
Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride,
And ev'n his failings lean'd to virtue's fide!
But in his duty prompt at every call,
He watch'd and wept, he pray'd and felt for all;
And, as a bird each fond endearment tries
To tempt its new fledg'd offspring to the skies,
He try'd each art, reprov'd each dull delay,
Allur'd to brighter worlds, and led the way.
Befide the bed where parting life was laid,
And forrow, guilt, and pains, by turns difmay'd,
The reverend champion ftood. At his controul,
Detpair and anguish fled the struggling foul,
Comfort came down, the trembling wretch to raise,
And his laft faltering accents whisper'd praise.
At church, with meck and unaffected grace,"
His looks adorn'd the venerable place;
Truth from his lips prevail'd with double fway,
And fools who came to fcoff, remain'd to pray.
The fervice paft, around the pious man,
With ready zeal, each honeft ruftic ran!
Ev'n children follow'd with endearing wile,
And pluck'd his gown, to share the good man's fmile.
His ready fmile a parent's warmth expreft,
Their welfare pleas'd him, and their cares distrest;
To them his heart, his love, his grief were given;
But all his ferious thoughts had reft in Heaven.
As fome tall cliff that lifts its awful form,
Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the ftorm,
Though round its breaft the rolling clouds are spread,
Eternal funshine fettles on its head.
AQUARIUS rules the frozen skies,
Deep frowning clouds on clouds arife,
Fraught with the thunder's roar;
With fury heaves the raging main,
When foaming billows lafh in vain
The hoarfe refounding shore.
No flow'ry vale now charms the eye,
No tuneful warblers of the sky
Now cheer the ling'ring hours;
No genial ray the groves illume,
No Zephyrs waft their mild perfume
From fighs o'er vernal flowers.
Though blooming scenes are now no more, That aid the raptur'd foul to foar,
Poetic thoughts refine;
Yet ftill the moralizing page,
To warn an unattentive age,
These hoary scenes combine.
With this I hail the opening year,
Addrefs the God, whofe works appear
Through each harmonious round;
Who rules, ferenly rules the ftorm,
Who gave the lurid lightnings form,
Whose thunders rock the ground.
O thou! alike where perfect day
In bright refulgent glories play
Around thy awful throne!
When feraphs glow with facred fires,
When angels tune celestial lyres,
To hymn thy praife alone!
Still may thy providential care
With bleffings crown the rifing year!
Impending ills reftrain!
Thy wildom guide my youthful muse!
Thy facred eloquence diffufe,
And confecrate my strain!
While thus revolving feasons roll,
Obfequious to thy wife controul,
Obedient to thy plan;
With filent eloquence they preach,
The most important leffons teach
To cold unthinking man.
Behold thyself reflected here!
The Spring proclaims thine infant year § Gay life, the Summer's bloom; Mild Autumn fpeaks maturer age, Confirms thee fool, or hails thee fage; While Winter fhews the tomb.
Or view the image of thy foul,
As now the mountain furges roll
In wild tumultuous roar
Fit emblem of the wrathful mind,
To anger's tyrant sway confign'd,
Where reafon rules no more.
Unlike its placid form, ferene,
When Zephyr breathing o'er the fcene,
Sheds balmy peace around;
Blefs'd emblem of the conquering foul,
Whofe every paffion knows controul,
While confcious joys abound!
That this may prove my bounteous share,
Afcends my ever conftant prayer,
To thee, all perfect Mind;
O aid me in the arduous ftrife,
Through each perplexing maze of life,
To all thy ways refign'd!
ON MEETING HIM AT A FRIEND'S HOUSE.
THROUGH ev'ry part of grief or mirth,
To which the mimic ftage gives birth,
I ne'er as yet with truth could tell,
Where most your various pow'rs excel.
Sometimes amidst the laughing scene,
Blythe Comedy, with jocund mien,
By you in livelier colours drest,
With transport clasp'd you to her breast.
As oft the bufkin'd mufe appear'd,
With awful brow her fcepter rear'd;
Recounted all your laurels won,
And claim'd you for her darling fon.
Thus each contending goddefs ftrove,
And each the fairest garland wove.
But which fair nymph could justly boast
Her beauties had engag'd you most,
I doubted much; 'till, t'other day,
Kind fortune threw me in your way:
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