Then thus he moraliz'd as flow it pafs'd,

"This brings me nearer Lucia than the last;
"And this, now streaming from the eye," said he,
"Oh, my lov'd child will bring me nearer thee."
When first he roam'd his dog with anxious care,
His wand'rings watch'd, as emulous to share;
In vain the faithful brute was bid to go,
In vain the forrower fought a lonely woe.
The hermit pauf'd th' attendant dog was near,
Slept, at his feet and caught the falling tear;
Up rofe the hermit, up the dog would rife,
And every way to win a mafter tries.

"Then be it fo. Come faithful fool," he faid;
One pat encourag'd and they fought the shade;
An unfrequented thick et foon they found,
And both repos'd upon the leafy ground;
Melliflous murm'rings told the fountains nigh,
Fountains, which well a pilgrim's drink supply:-
And thence, by many a labyrinth is led,

Where ev'ry tree bestow'd an evening bed.
Skill'd in the chace the faithful creature brought
What e'er at morn or mcon-light course he caught;
But the fage lent his fympathy to all,

Nor faw unwept his dumb affociates fall,
He was, in footh the gentlest of his kind,

And though an hermit had a social mind:

"And why," faid he, "muft man fubfift by prey, "Why ftop yon melting mufic on the spray?

Why, when affaild by hounds and hunter's cry,

Muft half the harmless race in terrois die?

"Why must we work of innocence the woe? "Still fhall the bofom throb, these eyes o'erflow: "A heart too tender here, from man, retires, "A heart that aches, if but a wren expires.", Thus liv'd the mafter good, the fervant true, 'Till to its God the master's spirit flew ; Befide a fount which daily water gave ; Stooping to drink, the Hermit found a grave; All in the running ftream his garments spread, And dark, damp verdure ill conceal'd his head; The faithful fervant from that fatal day Watch'd the lov'd coarfe, and hourly pin'd away His head upon his master's cheek was found, While the obftructed water mourn'd around.

ODE

то

INNOCENCE.

BY OGILVIE.

WAS when the flow declining ray

"TWAS

Had ting'd the cloud with ev'ning gold;

No warbler pour'd the melting lay,
No found difturb'd the fleeping fold,

When by a murm'ring rill reclin'd

Sat wrapt in thought a wand'ring fwain,
Calm peace compos'd his mufing mind;
And thus he rais'd the flowing strain :

Hail Innocence ! celeftial maid,
What joys thy blufhing charms reveal!
Sweet, as the arbour's cooling fhade,
And milder than the vernal galę.

'On thee attends a radiant choir,
Soft-fmiling Peace, and downy Reft;
With love that prompts the warbling lyre
And Hope, that fooths the throbbing breast,

Oh fent from Heav'ns to haunt the grove, • Where fquinting Envy ne'er can come ! Nor pines the cheek with luckless love, Nor anguish chills the living bloom.

'Sits on yon mofs-grown hill reclin'd 'Serene as heavn's unfully'd light, And pure as Delia's gentle mind.

Grant, Heav'nly Pow'r! the peaceful fway
May till my ruder thoughts controul:
Thy hand to point ny dubious way,

Thy voice to footh the melting foul,

Far in the fhady fweet retreat

Let thought beguile the ling'ring hour;
Let Quiet court the moffy feat,

And twining olives form the bow'r.

Let dove-ey'd Peace her wreath bestow,
And oft fit lift'ning in the dale,

'While Night's fweet warbler from the bough Tells to the grove her plaintive tale.

Soft as in Delia's snowy breast. Let each confenting paffion move; Let angels watch its filent rest,

And all its blifful dreams be Love!"

FINI S.