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In duty active, and in manners mild, And unassuming, as that modest flower, Whose unobtrusive sweetness decks the wild, Adorns the garden, and the shady bower: She's not elated with a prosperous state; The dignity of virtue she maintains ;

The pride arising from a fair estate,

Or outward show, her better sense disdains.

Ah! vain attempt! my muse can never draw The lineaments of beauty so refin'd;

She drops the pencil, touch'd with trembling

awe,

And fears injustice to so fair a mind.

The gentle Eleanora's charms to trace Requires an artist of superior skill;

To give each excellence its proper place, And her sweet spirit through the whole distill.

EPITHALAMIUM.

WHEN love and fair Serenia is the theme,
Let no discordant note the ear annoy;
In gentlest accents breathe the sweetest name,
Attune the muse to harmony and joy.
Come hither, hymen's fairest train,
.Here let love and friendship reign,
Sweet solicitude to please,

Mutual confidence and ease:
But fly far hence insidious pair,
Fell distrust, and preying care..

Hymen, may these thy ardent vot'ries find,

Thy promis'd blessings all-sincere and real,
Joys pure, and spotless, as Serenia's mind,
And exquisite, as fondest lovers feel.
Still may love's impressive smile

Soften grief, and sweeten toil;
Still the mutual flame increasing,
Each at once both blest and blessing;
Lasting may those blessings prove,
And peace and plenty crown their love.

Beneficent dispenser of all good,

Look down with favour on the youthful pair; Give them an interest in the Saviour's blood; Make them the objects of thy special care. Put them not off with earthly toys, With these vain transitory joys;

But let thy common favours be

The means to raise their hearts to thee:
May they together thee adore,

When earthly ties are felt no more.

ODE TO VIRTUE.

O VIRTUE, fair, divinely fair,
How sweetly dost thou shine!
In angel brightness thou appear'st;
Thy lineage is divine.

In heav'n thou first a being had'st,
And always wilt endure;
Perfection there is to be found

Unlimited and pure.

Within thy bosom, O my God,

True virtue doth reside;

In thee its very essence lies,

In thee, and none beside.

TO ELIZA.

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FROM lonely shades, a calm obscure retreat, Let me my friend, my dear Eliza greet:

gay,

Now far remov'd from commerce with the
In sober dulness here I pass the day.
Sometimes, alas! I feel my spirits sink;
And grow almost too indolent to think:
A lazy stupor creeps through all my blood,
And more than half congeals the vital flood.
Oh! for a friend, to give a hearty shake,
And bid these drowsy faculties awake!
Or rather, gracious author of my frame,
Kindle my dull devotion to a flame;
Let true religion in my bosom thrive;
Oh! bid me live, and feel myself alive.
What, tho' the fleeting moments glide away!
What, tho' this feeble frame must soon decay!
What, tho' my life but as a hand-breadth seems,
And youth's gay prospect, visionary dreams!

Still there are joys, substantial past dispute,

That will not mock us with a vain pursuit.

Sure, there's enough to keep the soul awake,
When heaven's eternal glories are at stake.
At death the thinking principle survives ;
And e'en the mouldering clay again revives :
This thought to peace and resignation tends,
And sooths our sorrow for departed friends;
Teaches in His disposing will to rest,
Who orders human changes for the best.
You, lovely maid, in grief can sympathise,
You've felt the rupture of the tenderest ties;
Yet, if your honour'd parents still were here,
You scarce would act in such a useful sphere :
In you, distinguis'd maid, we long have known
A father, mother, sister, all in one :
Your various duties you with care fulfil,
And act your part with diligence and skill.
May providence your little household guard,
And crown your virtue with a rich reward.
Alas! how many changes have I known!
How many of my early friends are flown!
Where's the fond father now, upon whose breast
My infant head with confidence did rest!
Whose voice I, as an oracle, have heard,
And sought his favour as a rich reward!

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