Almighty Love exerts his pow'ryfbau. I 919. W
And fpreads with fecret art
A soft sensation through the frame, ha aferog
A triumph through the heart.
Nor fhall the storms of age which cloud
Each gleam of fenfual joy,
And blaft the gaudy flower's pride,
Thefe bleft effects destroy,
When that fair form hall fink in years,
And all thofe graces fly;
The beauty of thy heavenly mind
Shall length of days defy.
HAPPY they! the happieft of their kind!
Whom gentler ftars unite, and in one fate Their hearts, their fortunes, and their beings blend. 'Tis not the coarfer tie of human laws,
Unnatural oft, and foreign to the mind,
That binds their peace, but harmony itself,
Attuning all their paffions into love;
Where Friendship full exerts her fofteft power,
Perfect esteem, enliven'd by defire
Ineffable, and fympathy of foul;
Thought meeting thought, and will preventing will, With boundlefs confidence: for nought but love Can answer love, and render blifs fecure.
What is the world to them,
Its pomp, its pleasure, and its nonsense all!
Who in each other clafp whatever fair
High fancy forms, and lavish hearts can wifh;
Something than beauty dearer, fhould they look,
Or on the mind, or mind-illumin'd face;
Truth, goodness, honour, harmony, and love,
The richest bounty of indulgent Heaven?
Meantime a smiling offspring rifes round,
And mingles both their graces. By degrees
The human bloffom blows; and every day,
Soft as it rolls along, fhews fome new charm,
'The father's luftre and the mother's bloom.
Then infant reafon grows apace, and calls
For the kind hand of an affiduous care.
Delightful task! to rear the tender thought,
To teach the young idea how to shoot,
To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind,
To breathe th' enlivening fpirit, and to fix
The generous purpose in the glowing breast.
Oh, fpeak the joy! ye whom the fudden tear
Surprises often, while you look around,
And nothing ftrikes your eyes but fights of bliss,
All various nature preffing on the heart:
An elegant fufficiency, content,
Retirement, rural quiet, friendship, books,
Eafe and alternate labour, useful life,
Progreffive virtue, and approving Heaven.
These are the matchlefs joys of virtuous love;
And thus their moments fly. The Seatons thus,
As ceafelefs round a jarring world they roll,
Still find them happy; and confenting Spring
Sheds her own rofy garland on their heads :
'Till evening comes at laft, ferene and mild,
When, after the long vernal day of life,
Enamour'd more, as more remembrance fwells-
With many a proof of recollected love,
Together down they fink in focial sleep;
Together freed, their gen:le fpirits fly
To fcenes where love and blifs immortal reign,
Invites my teps, and points to yonder glade? 'Tis the!but why that bleeding bofoin gor'd?LGA Why dimly. gleams the vifionary fword?
Oh, ever beauteous, ever friendly, tell,
Is it in Heaven a crime to love too well?
To bear too tender, or too firm a heart,
To act a lover's, or a Roman's part?
Is there no bright reverfion in the ky
For those who greatly think, or bravely die?
Why bade you elfe, ye pow'rs! her foul aspire
Above the vulgar flight of low defire?
Ambition firft fprung from your bleft abodes;
The glorious fault of angels and of gods:
Thence to their images on earth it flows,
And in the breafts of kings and heroes glows.
Moft fouls, 'tis true, but peep out once an age,
Dull, fullen pris'ners in the body's cage;
Dim lights of life, that burn a length of years,
Ufelefs, unfeen, as lamps in fepulchres;
Like eastern kings, a lazy ftate they keep,
And clofe confined to their own palace, sleep.
From thefe, perhaps, (ere nature bid her die)
Fate fnatch'd her early to the pitying sky.
As into air the purer fpirits flow,
And fep'rate from their kindred dregs below;
So flew the foul to its congenial place,
Nor left one virtue to redeem her race.
But thou, falfe guardian of a charge too good, Thou mean deferter of thy brother's blood! See on these ruby lips the trembling breath, These cheeks, now fading at the blast of death: Cold is that breath which warm'd the world before, And those love-darting eyes must roll no more.
Thus, if eternal juftice rules the ball,
Thus fhall your wives, and thus your children fall'e
On all the line a fudden vengeance waits,
And frequent hearfes fhall befiege your gates;
There paflengers shall stand, and, pointing, fay,
(While the long fun'rals blacken all the way)
Lo! thefe are they, whofe foul the furies fteel'd,
And curs'd with hearts unknowing how to yield.
Thus unlamented pafs'd the proud away,
The gaze of fools, and pageants of a day!
So perifh all, whofe breaft ne'er learn'd to glow
For other's good, or melt at others woe.
What can atone (oh, ever injur'd shade!)
Thy fate unpity'd, and thy rites unpaid?
No friend's complaint, no kind domeftic tear,
Pleas'd thy pale ghoft, or grac'd the mournful bier;
By foreign hands thy dying eyes were clos'd,
By foreign hands thy decent lunbs-compos'd,
By foreign hands thy humble grave a·lorn'd,
By ftrangers honour'd, and by ftrangers mourn'd.
What though no friends in fable weeds appear,
Grieve for an hour, perhaps, then mourn a year,
And bear about the mockery of woe
To midnight dances and the public show?
What though no weeping loves thy afhes grace,
Nor polish'd marble emulate thy face?
What though no facred earth allow thee room,
Nor hallow'd dirge be mutter'd o'er the tomb?
Yet fhall thy grave with rifing flow'rs be dress'd,
And the green turf lie lightly on thy breast :
There fhall the morn her earliest tears bestow;
There the first rofes of the year fhall, blow ;,
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