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“ In what fequefter’d desert, halt thou drawn “ The kindest aspect of delighted Heaven? “ Into fuch beauty spread, and blown so fair, “ Though poverty's cold wind, and crushing rain, “ Beat keen and heavy on thy tender years ? " O let me now into a richei Toil “ Transplant thee safe! where vernal suns and show'rs “ Diffuse their warmest, largest influence; “ And of my garden be the pride and joy! « Ill it befits thee, oh, it ill befits “ Acasto's daughter, his, whose open stores, “ Though vast, were little to his ampler heart, - The father of a country, thus to pick “ The very refuse of those harvest-fields, " Which-from his bounteous friendship I enjoy! " Then throw that shameful pittance from thy hand, “ But ill apply'd to fuch a rugged talk; “ The fields, the master, all, my Fair, are thine, “ If to the various blessings which thy house “ Has on me lavish'd, thou wilt add that bliss, “ That dearest blifs, the power of blessing thee !"
Here ceas’d the youth: but still his speaking eye Express’d the secret triumph of his soul, With conscious virtue, gratitude, and love, Above the vulgar joy divinely rais'd. Nor waited he reply. Won by the charm Of goodness irresistible, and all In sweet disorder lost, she blush'd consent. The news immediate to her mother brought, While pierc'd with anxious thought, she pin’d away The lonely moments for Lavinia's fate; Amaz’d, and scarce believing what fhe heard, Joy teiz'd her wither'd veins, and one bright gleam
Of setting life flione on her evening hours :
THE UNIVERSAL PRAYER.
FATHER of all! in ev'ry age 5
In ev'ry clime ador’d,
Thou great first cause, least understood,
Who all my sense confin'd,
And that myself am blind.
gave me in this dark estate, To see the good from ill; And binding nature fast in fate,
Left free the human will.
What conscience dictates to be done,
Or warns me not to do, This, teach me more than hell to Thun,
That, more than Heav'n pursue.
What blessings Thy free bounty gives,
Let me not cast away ;
T'enjoy is to obey.
Yet not to earth's contracted span
Thy goodness let me bound, Or think thee Lord alone of man,
When thousand worlds are round.
Let not this weak, unknowing hand,
Presume thy bolts to throw,
On each I judge thy foe.
If I am right, thy grace impart,
Still in the right to stay:
To find that better way.
Or impious discontent
Or aught thy goodness lent.
To hide the fault I fee; That'mercy I to others Thew,
That inercy shew to me.
Mean though I am, not wholly so,
Since quicken'd by Thy breath; O lead me wherefoe'er I go,
Through this day's life or death,
All else beneath the sun,
And let thy will be done.
To thee, whose temple is all space,
Whose altar, earth, sea, kies! One chorus let all beings raise!
All Nature's incense rise !
THE Lord my pasture shall prepare,
And feed me with a fhepherd's care ! His presence Mall my wants tipply, And guard me with a watchful eye; My noon-day walk he shall attend, And all my midnight hours defend.
When in the sultry glebe I faint,