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TO AN INFANT.

Ah cease thy Tears and Sobs, my little Life!
I did but snatch away the unclasped Knife:
Some safer Toy will soon arrest thine eye
And to quick Laughter change this peevish cry 1
Poor Stumbler on the rocky coast of Woe,
Tutored by Pain each source of Pain to know!
Alike the foodful fruit and scorching fire
Awake thy eager grasp and young desire:
Alike the Good, the Ill offend thy sight,
And rouse the stormy Sense of shrill Affright!
Untaught, yet wise! mid all thy brief alarms
Thou closely clingest to thy Mother's arms,
Nestling thy little face in that fond breast
Whose anxious Heavings lull thee to thy rest!
Man's breathing Miniature: thou mak'st me sigh-
A Babe art thou—and such a Thing am I?
To anger rapid and as soon appeased,
For trifles mourning and by trifles pleased,

Break Friendship's Mirror with a tetchy blow,
Yet snatch what coals of fire on Pleasure's altar glow !

O thou that rearest with celestial aim
The future Seraph in my mortal frame,
Thrice holy FAITH ! whatever thorns I meet
As on I totter with unpractised feet,
Still let me stretch my arms and cling to thee,
Meek Nurse of Souls through their long Infancy!

LINES

w RITTEN AT SHURTON BARS, NEAR BRIDG Ew At ER, SEPTEMBER, 1795, IN ANswer to A LETTER FROM BRISTOL.

Good verse most good, and bad verse then seems better
Received from absent friend by way of Letter.
For what so sweet can laboured lays impart
As one rude rhyme warm from a friendly heart?
ANoN.

NoF travels my meandering eye
The starry wilderness on high;
Nor now with curious sight
I mark the glow-worm, as I pass,
Move with “green radiance” through the grass,
An EMERALD of Light.

O ever present to my view
My wafted spirit is with you,
And soothes your boding fears:
I see you all oppressed with gloom
Sit lonely in that cheerless room—
Ah me! You are in tears!

Beloved Woman I did you fly
Chilled Friendship's dark disliking eye,
Or Mirth's untimely din 7
With cruel weight these trifles press
A temper sore with tenderness,
When aches the Void within.

But why with sable wand unblessed
Should Fancy rouse within my breast
Dim-visaged shapes of Dread 2
Untenanting its beauteous clay
My SARA's soul has winged its way,
And hovers round my head

I felt it prompt the tender Dream, When slowly sunk the day's last gleam; You roused each gentler sense

As sighing o'er the Blossom's bloom
Meek Evening wakes its soft perfume
With viewless influence.

And hark, my Love! The sea-breeze moans
Through yon reft house ! O'er rolling stones
In bold ambitious sweep
The onward-surging tides supply
The silence of the cloudless sky
With mimic thunders deep.

Dark reddening from the channelled Isle"
(Where stands one solitary pile
Unslated by the blast)
The Watchfire, like a sullen star
Twinkles to many a dozing Tar
Rude cradled on the mast.

Even there—beneath that light-house tower-
In the tumultuous evil hour
Ere Peace with SARA came,
Time was, I should have thought it sweet
To count the echoings of my feet,
And watch the storm-vexed flame.

* The Holmes, in the Bristol Channel.

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