Thou feeft around thin fhades arife, Glide hideous with averted eyes, Shoot up in lambent flame, and tow'r along the skies. Then hollow groans thine ear invade, The moon retires behind a cloud; And horror clothes the scene. Now with filent fteps and flow, To thy folitary cell, Where thou ever lov'ft to dwell, Thou retreating with a figh, Seek'ft, but in vain, to close thy ever-wakeful eye. Around thy couch, the family of spleen, (Ideal fhapes, in terror clad arife; And difcontent, with baneful wing, Of ev'ry joy pollutes the fpring, And fpreads a dark veil o'er the brightest skies. Not all the blifs that Eden could bentów Can light up funthine in the penfive breast Fix'd are thy forrows, rooted is thy woe Nought on earth, can footh thy foul to rest. THE BLESSINGS OF PEACE BY THOMSON. Beauteous peace, sweet union or aftate! what elfe, but thou, Gives fafety, ftrength, and glory to a people! Worfe than our Ætna's most destructive fires, Unbounded waving with the gifts of harveft; Our nymphs and shepherds, sporting in each vale, THE WINTER's DAY. WHE THE AUTHOR UNKNOWN. THEN raging ftorms deform the air, And the wide landscape bright and fair, When biting frost rides on the wind, When the poor trav❜ller treads the plain All dubious of his way, And crawls with night-encreasing pain, And dreads the parting day, When poverty in vile attire When the fond mother hugs her child And the poor infant froft-beguil'd Then let the bounteous hand extend Its bleffings to the poor, Nor fpurn the wretched while they bend All fuppliant at your door. HYMN ΤΟ THE CREATOR. FROM THE GREEK OF EUPOLIS. Who lived about four hundred years before Chrifl. A UTHOR of being, fource of light, With unfading beauties bright, Fullness, goodness, rolling round * Ei, or Iao; Thee we hail Thy ftedfaft being ftill the fame. And teach the world to praife and love. * Names attributed to the Deity. Yonder azure vault on high, Earth on its firm bafis plac'd, All their mighty Maker blefs. Thou shak'st all nature with thy nod, Yet does thy powerful hand sustain Both earth and heaven, both firm and main. The blifs, the joy, the rapture there. (For thee thy filver harps are ftrung,) Ever beauteous, ever young! Angelic forms their voices raife, And through heaven's arch refound thy praise, The feather'd fowls that fwim the air, And bathe in liquid æther there. |