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3. “Yet that land to my mother will lonely appear';

She shrunk from the glance of a stranger while here';
From her foreign companions I know she will flee',
And sigh, dearest father', for you and for mē.”
“My darling', thy mother rejoices to gaze'
On the long-severed friends of her earliest days';
Her parents have there found a mansion of resť,

And they welcome their child to the Land of the Blest.” 4. “How I long to partake of such meetings of bliss';

That land must be surely more happy than this';
On you', my kind father, the journey depends';
Let us go to my mother', her kindred' and friends'.'
“Not on mē', love; I trust I may reách, that bright climé,
But in patience I stay till the Lord's chosen time',
And must strive', while awaiting his gracious behest',

To guide thy young steps to the Land of the Blest. 5. “ Thou must toil through a world full of dangers, my boy';

Thy peace it may blight', and thy virtues destroy';
Nor wilt thoú, alas'! be withheld from its snares'
By a mother's kind counsels', a mother's fond prayers'.
Yet fear not the God', whose direction we cravé,
Is mighty to strengthen', to shield', and to savè;
And his hand may yet lead thee', a glorified guesť,
To the home of thy mother', the Land of the Blest.”


THE ORPHAN'S SONG. Tambic. Each line has four feet; while the second and fourth

of each stanza has an additional short syllable.
1. OH! lady, buy these budding flowers',

For I am sad', and weť, and weary':-
I gathered them ere break of day',

When all was lonely', still, and dreary':
And long I've sought to sell them heré,

To purchase clothes', and food”, and dwelling',
For Valor's wretched orphan girls'

Poor mè, and my young sister Ellen'.
2. Ah'! those who tread life's thornless way',

In fortune's golden sunshine basking',
May deem my wants require no aid',

Because my lips are mute', unasking';

They have no heart for woes like mine;

Each word', each look', is cold—repelling';
Yet oncè a crowd of flatt'rers fawned,

And fortune smiled on mē' and Ellen!
3. Oh! buy my flowers', they're fair and fresh'

As mine and morning's tears' could keep them!
To-morrow's sun shall see them dead',
And I shall scarcely live to weep

Yet this sweet bud', if nursed with care',

Soon into fulness would be swelling ;
And nurtured by some gen'rous hand

So mightmy little sister Ellen! 4. She's sleeping in the hollow treé,

Her only homè—its leaves her bedding';
And I've no food to carry there',

To soothe the tears which she'll be shedding'.
Oh'! that those mourner's tears which fall,

That bell which heavily is knelling',
And thāt dzep grāvé were meant for mē',

little sister Ellen! 5. When we in silence are laid down

In life's last fearless', blessed', sleeping',
No tears will fall upon our grave'

Save those of pitying Heaven's own weeping.
Unknown we've lived', unknown must diè ;

No tongue the mournful tale be telling
Of two young, broken-hearted girls'—

Poor Mary' and her sister Ellen! 6. No one has bought of me to-day',

And night is now the town o'ershading';
And I', like these poor drooping flowers',

Unnoticed and unwept am fading';
My soul is struggling to be free~

Ít lothes its wretched earthly dwelling'!
My limbs refuse to bear their load -

Oh God', protect lone orphan Ellen.

And my poor



Iambic. Four feet to a line. 1. In yonder grave a druid lies', Where slowly winds the stealing wave';



The year's best sweets shall duteous rise'

To deck its poet's sylvan grave.
2. In yon deep bed of whispering reeds'

His airy harp shall now be laid',
That he', whose heart in sorrow bleeds',

May love through life the soothing shade. 3. Then maids and youths shall linger here'

, And while its sounds at distance swell', Shall sadly seem in pity's ear

To hear the woodland pilgrim's knell. 4. Remembrance oft shall haunt the shoré

When Thames in summer wreaths is drest',
And oft suspend the dashing oar',

To bid his gentle spirit rest!
5. And oft, as ease and health retire'

To breezy lawn, or forest deep',
The friend shall view yon whitening spiré,

And 'mid the varied landscape weep. 6. But thou, who own'st that earthy bed,

Ah'! what will every dirge avail',
Or tears“, which love and pity shed',

That mourn beneath the gliding sail ? 7. Yet lives there oné, whose heedless eyé

Shall scorn thy pale shrine glimmering near'?
With him', sweet bard', may fancy diè,

And joy desert the blooming year.
8. But thou, lorn stream', whose sullen tide

No sedge-crowned sisters now attend',
Now waft me from the green hill's sidé,

Whose cold turf hides the buried friend'. 9. And see, the fairy valleys fade;

Dun night has veiled the solemn view'!
Yet once again', dear parted shadé,

Meek nature's child’, again adieù ! 10. The genial meads', assigned to bless'

Thy life, shall mourn thy early doomo;
Their hinds and shepherd-girls shall dress',

With simple hands', thy rural tomb. 11. Long', long', thy stone and pointed clay'

Shall melt the musing Briton's eyes': 0! vales and wild woods', shall he say',

In yonder grave your druid lies'

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In this ode is employed the iambic, trochaic, and anapestic

measure, in lines of various lengths. 1. An mè! I've lost my liberty';

And in this cagé

My active mind'

Is close confined';
Nor can I hope again'

My birthright to obtain',
Till this my gilded tenement shall bé

Destroyed by some disaster or by age.
2. But how came I here'?
Who was it that deprived my heaven-born soul

Of the freedom she enjoyed'

In the paradise of God',
Where no base passion could my peace control,

Or in my breast create a fear'?
'Twas Satan', aye 'twas he'

That robbed me of my liberty':
His artful snares the insidious fowler laid',
And to this captive state my innocence betrayed.
3. Cruel enemy', to try',

When I feared no danger nigh’,
Thus to deceive and ruin mé
With basest arts of treachery!

But boast not', Satan', thou thy point hast gained'.
Heaven permits it so to bé,

That all the world may one day seé

Justice triumphant over perfidy';
For know', that Christ the conquest hath obtained'.

Yes, and he'll quickly come',

And publicly pronounce thy doom'.
So shall the horror of this cruel deed,

By which thy malice had designed'

To draw down vengeance on mankind, With double fury light on thy devoted head. 4. In the mean while I sit',

And heré, in groans'

And silent moans',
Lament my prisoned state'.


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Ah me', I once was used to mount and fly',
Up through the trackless regions of the sky',

And as I passed along',

In sweetly pleasing strains',
To trill my warbling song

All o'er the etherial plains.
But now', condemned within this cage to lie',

I droop the wing',

Refuse to sing',
And sighing', wįsh to die.
5. But why despair' ?

Comě, try thy voicè, and stretch thy wing';
A bird within a cage may chirp and sing',
And taste what freedom is', e'en while she's here.

Strike up some cheerful notè;

With fond desire'
Peep through the wire:

Thy keeper 'll quickly come and let thee out. 6. This', o, this', is happy news'!

Now' to sing^ I can't refusé :
Thēse shall be the notes I choosé :-
Satan, the cruel fowler', put me in,
And fast inclosed me round with sense and sin';

But Satan cannot keep me hēre ;
For not to him' the cage belongs ;
'Tis Christ's', and he shall have my songs',
Since he's


kind deliverer.” 7. Thus awhile

I will beguilé
The passing hours away',

Assured my Master 'll not forget'

To make my bed', and find me meat',
So long as 'tis decreed that here I stay.

Whereforé, free from all cares',
From all dangers and snares',
While Jesus', my Savior', is by',

O how happy I dwell',
Though immured in a cell';
Not anxious to livé, nor yet fearful to die.
8. But soon', alas'! secure of future bliss',

Senseless I grow',

And scarcely know' What real freedom is.

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