In eager transport frequent breath'd her prayer
The graces of her ancestry to fhare:
Nor breath'd in vain, her fond maternal guide
Cherish'd with care each spark of virtuous pride;
And ever as fhe
gave a leffon new,
Would point fome old example to her view:
Inflam'd by this, her mind was quickly fraught
With each fage precept, that her mother taught.
The goodly dame thus blefs'd in her employ,
Felt each foft tranfport of parental joy,
And liv'd content, her utmoft wish fulfill'd
In the fair prospect of a virtuous child:
Refign'd she waited now the aweful hour
When death should raise her to that heav'nly bow'r,
Where with her lov'd Aurelius fhe might share
The pleasing task, to watch with guardian care
Their offspring's fteps, and hov'ring o'er her head,
The gracious dew of heavenly peace to shed;
Nor fear'd her decency of life would prove
An added blifs to all the joys above.
OW Britain's fenate, far renown'd,
Affembles full an aweful band!
Now Majefty with golden circle crown'd,
Mounts her bright throne, and waves her gracious hand. "Ye chiefs of Albion with attention hear,
"Guard well your liberties, review your laws,
Begin, begin th' important year,
"And boldly speak in Freedom's caufe."
Then ftarting from her fummer's reft
Glad Eloquence unbinds her tongue.
She feels rekindling raptures wake her breast,
And pours the facred energy along.
'Twas here great Hampden's patriot voice was heard,
Here Pym, Kimbolton fir'd the British foul,
When Pow'r her arm defpotic rear'd
But felt a fenate's great controul.
"Twas here the pond'ring worthies fat,
Who fix'd the crown on William's head,
When awe-ftruck tyranny renounc'd the state,
And bigot JAMES his injur'd kingdoms fled.
Thee, generous youth, whom nature, birth adorn;
The Mufe felects from yon affembled throng:
O thou to serve thy country born,
Tell me, young hero of my fong,
Thy genius now in faireft bloom,
And warm with fancy's brighteft rays,
Why fleeps thy foul unconfcious of its doom?
Why idly fleet thy unapplauded days?
Thy country beckons thee with lifted hand,
Arife, the calls, awake thy latent flame,
Arife, 'tis England's high command,
And snatch the ready wreaths of fame.
Be this thy paffion; greatly dare
A people's jarring wills to sway,
With curft Corruption wage eternal war,
That where thou goe'ft, applauding crowds may fay,
« Lo, that is he, whofe fpirit-ruling voice
"From her wild heights can call Ambition down,
"Can ftill Sedition's brutal noife,
"Or fhake a tyrant's purple throne:"
Then chiefs, and fages yet unborn
Shall boaft thy thoughts in diftant days,
With thee fair History her leaves adorn,
And laurell'd bards proclaim thy lafting praise.
To Miss ****. By Mifs ELISA CARTER.
HE midnight moon ferenely smiles
O'er nature's foft repose,
No lowring cloud obfcures the skies,
Nor ruffling tempeft blows.
Now every paffion finks to reft,
The throbbing heart lies ftill,
And varying schemes of life no more
Distract the labouring will.
In filence hufh'd, to reason's voice
Attends each mental power;
Come dear Amanda, and enjoy
Reflection's favourite hour.
Come, while this peaceful scene invites,
Let's fearch this ample round;
Where shall the lovely fleeting form
Of Happiness be found?
Does it amidst the frolic mirth
Of gay affemblies dwell?
Or hide beneath the folemn gloom
That fhades the hermit's cell ?
How oft the laughing brow of joy
A fick'ning heart conceals,
And thro' the cloister's deep recess
Invading forrow steals.
In vain thro' beauty, fortune, wit,
The fugitive we trace!
It dwells not in the faithless smile
That brightens Clodio's face.
Howe'er our varying notions rove, All yet agree, in one,
To place its being in fome ftate,
At diftance from our own.
O blind to each indulgent gift
Of power, fupremely wife,
Who fancy happiness in aught
That Providence denies.
Vain is alike the joy we seek,
And vain what we poffefs,
Unless harmonious reason tunes
The paffions into peace.
To temp'rate bounds, to few defires,
Is happiness confin'd,
And deaf to folly's noise attends
The mufic of the mind.
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