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(Hard is the fate of the infirm and poor!)
Here as I crav'd a morsel of their bread,
To seek a shelter in a humbler shed.
Oh! take me to your hospitable dome,
Keen blows the wind and piercing is the cold! Short is my passage to the friendly tomb,
For I am poor and miserably old.
Should I reveal the sources of my grief,
If soft humanity e'er touch'd your breast, Your hands would not withhold the kind relief,
And tears of pity would not be repress'd.
Heaven sends misfortunes—why should we repine!
'Tis Heav'n has brought me to the state you see : And your condition may be soon like mine,
-The child of sorrow and of misery,
A little farm was my paternal lot,
Then like the lark I sprightly hail'd the morn, But, ah! oppression forc'd me from my cot,
My cattle dy'd and blighted was my corn.
My daughter-once the comfort of my age!
Lur'd by a villain from her native home, Is cast abandond on the world's wide stage,
And doom'd in scanty poverty to roam.
My tender wife-sweet soother of my care!
Struck with sad anguish at the stern decree, Fell- ling’ring fell, a victim to despair,
And left the world to wretchedness and me
Pity the sorrows of a poor old man!
Whosetrembling limbs have borne him to your door, Whose days are dwindled to the shortest span;
Oh! give relief and Heaven will bless your store.
HYMN TO BENEVOLENCE.
Hail, source of transport, ever new!
I taste a joy sincere !
Their wishes and their care.
Daughter of God! delight of man!
Which still thy hand sustains ;
And Discord gnash'd in chains.
Far as the pointed sunbeam flies
All nature owns thy nod;
From nothing e'en to God.
By thee inspir'd, the gen'rous breast,
With goodness large and free,
And aid the feeble knee.
O come! and o'er my hosom reign,
Through ev'ry action shine;
And make me wholly thine.
If from thy sacred paths I turn,
Nor with their pleasures glow:
And groan in hopeless woe,
THE COUNTRY CLERGYMAN.
Near yonder copse, where once the garden smild,
Careless their merits or their faults to scan,
Thus to relieve the wretched' was his pride,
Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raise, · And his last faltering accents whisper'd praise.
At church, with meek and unaffected grace, His looks adorn'd the venerable place; Truth from his lips prevaild with double sway, And fools who canje to scoff remain’d to pray. The service past, around the pious man, With ready zeal each honest rustic ran; . E'en children follow'd with endearing wile, And pluck'd his gown, to share the good man's smile. His ready smile a parent's warmth exprest, Their welfare pleas’d him, and their cares distrest; To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given, But all his serious thoughts had rest in heaven,