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cred gate! *
What creduloos beauties his art Shall not the mufe a grateful tribute
had undone ; He swore that his faith Mould invio- And drop the filent, sympathetic late be,
tear ? Tha: his heart and those fair ones were If aught that glows within the friend. victims to me;
ly breast, I told him thore viâims and faith I That weeps at tales of woe, or hearts despise,
oppreft ; And from such examples would learn With me your sympathizing tribute to be wise,
pay, That I would never prostitute virtue And to her peaceful manes inscribe to scorn,
the lay. Or smell at a rose, to be hurt by a Ye ! who her talents and her vir thorn.
With grief's spontaneous tears her Was the perjur'd betrayer afham'd
urn bedew. of his guilt,
She too comply'd with nature's la. Was his passion on virtue, not wan. tonly built,
She gently wip'd the forrow-ftream. Was his breast as fincere, as his oatho
ing eye, were profane,
As if by heaven inspir'd, did she reI could fancy (I own I could fancy)
Jate, the swain ;
The souls grand entrance at the fa. But experience has taught me 'tis dang'rous to trust,
And shall the honour, which she ofe And folly to think he can ever be juft; apply'd, So I'll Rifle my Aame and reje& him To other's reliques, be to hers de. with scorn,
ny'd ? Leaft I grasp at the rose and be hurt O that the muse, dear (pirit ! own'd by the thorn.
thy art, To soften grief and captivate the
heart, The Answer.
Then should there lines in numbers 10
Preserve thymem'ry from oblivion's To years of discretion from that of
shade ; fixteen;
But o ! how vain the with that What beauties he followed, what wo
friendship pays, men betray'd,
Since her own volumes are her great(Aware of their wiles, of marriage eft praise.
afraid) Would injore yourself, call in quefti
As Orpheus play'd the lif’ning on his sense,
herds among Make doubtful your merit, your They owa'd the magic of his power. virtue pretence ;
ful song ; Then believe' him in earnei, away Mankind no more their savage na. with your scorn,
ture kept, Receive but the rose, you'll be fale
And foes to music, wonder'd how from the thorn.
they wept. So PHILLIS tun'd her sweet melli.
fluouslyre; For the BOSTON MAGAZINB.
(Harmonious numbers bid the soul
aspire) Elegy un the Deatb of a late While Arric's untaught race with celebrated Poetejs.
mains I losty verse, and coft poetic drains; • Page 488 of thio vol.
To judge of him now, by what he
IP con fairing, sense of genius yet ro
They loved the peet, and the muse And all the lower world adores, rever'd.
Vouchsafes his image to impart, What tho' her outward form did And priots himsell on every beart: ne'er disclore
Strong are the lines, the impreso fair, The lilly's white, or blushes of the lo realon's eye the marks appear, role ;
The inmoft roul of clouds diveft, Shall Sensibility regard the skin, And all the Godhead ftands conlert. If all be calm, serene, and pure with.
II. in ? Bot ah! can beauty, or can genius
Where e'er my wand'ring footfteps save? Genius and beauty moulder in the
The path of happiness to prove,
Tho'dangers compass me around, grave. The modeft graces, and the richelt
And all I tread is Nipp'ry ground, bloom,
Tho'round a roaring iea were spread The Colema toll roon ushers to the
And pour'd its deluge on my head; tomh.
There cannot once my soul dismay, Such the sad ruins of the human race,
My God is present, he's my day. That reptiles riot on the faireft face !
III. Hither let pride its sure criterion view;
At early dawn I gladly rise,
To pay my morning facrifice,
Do my moft grateful praises fail; mind.
Since he secures my rase repose,
And Mields me from my deadly foll. Tho' now the business, of her life
The shades of night and toils of day,
Confess his presence guards my ray. is o'er, Tho' now the breaths and tunes her
IV. lyre no more ;
By nature frail, with passions Arong, Tho' now the body mixes with the Snares that to human Aate belong, clay ;
My faith and every grace had faild, The soul wings upward to immortal Unless my God had me upheld. day
He checks my passion's fatal (way, Free'd from a world of wo, and scene Thro' ftrong temptation leads the way of cares,
Folly and falfhood disappear, A lyre of gold the tunes, a crown of And truth succeeds when God is acar. glory wears.
When forrows and affli&ions wound, Seated with angels in that blissful place,
And sharpeft griefs my soul surround i Where she now joins in her Creator's
When almost driven to despair,
I raise my heart to God in prayer ; praise, Where harmony with louder notes is
Tho' human aid Mould nowght avail, swellid,
Tho' neighbour, pay, tho? friends
Dhould fail, Where her roft numbers only are excell'd.
This heavenly friend is always acar, HORATIO.
And Aill preserves my soul from
fear. State Street, Dec. 1784.
Tho' false report, contempt and Arise,
In every Mape pursue my life ;
Tho' there do all that man can do; " I have set the Lord always before
All this mhall not my fool dismay, me."
Psalm xvi. 8.
Nor lead me from my God aftray ;
On him my safeguard I'll rely,
Poetical Ejays: Ar Elegy of the celebrated Dr. since my lah, 'an unexpe&ed mir.
Franklin on the Deatb of a fortune has put it out of our power Squirrel, appearing in a nie to send you the Squirrel we defigo
ed you -- the wounds she received Paper, gave occasion to be
in her captore proving incurable, publication of the subsequent Me died the next niorning..--At the fugitive pieces, written fome
request of the ladies I have compor
ed and now send you the following years since. - To the par- Elegy ; which, with the scrawl then tiality of the autbor's friends
inciored, you will receive, not as a obe Reader must be refered
literary produ&ion, but as a tri
bute of friendship, in a sudden and for an apology.
excentric Aight of fancy, bound by no rules and having amuse
meat only in contemplation. To two young Ladies, with a
Your's affe&ionately. present of a Flying Squirrel, rescued from a Car.
HALL Elegy or long be mute ?
When birds or Aying squirrels Tis tyranny beyond expreffing,
die ! That poffeffion to detroy.
What poet dare resif the suit, Jroo as air, and unsurpeding,
And not relieve the female figh? The pretty !porter we present, Coine ye melancholly powr's ! Balling in the blaze of Fortune, Aid my ftrains, in pire my verse ; Lay, a peaceful innocent,
While in midnight's darkeit hours, Fell grimalkin, darting at her,
I pay my tribute at her herse. Envious of her happiness,
Bot...She demands the sweeteft notes
Sweeter far than I can raise ..
The feather'd longsters warbling
throats Sudden was the grasp of power,
Shall join in concert to her praise-Which her speed could not evade;
From ev'ry tree and ev'ry buih, Elle thro'buch and brake she'd scour, To aid the dull, the plaintive lyrt, None but the could e'er pervade :
The lark, the linnet, and the thrull, Swift as light, her wings and feet Io softeft harmony coolpire.
Would bear her far from all porsuit; The sprightly note, the chearful air Where fare from force and from deceit Are chang'd to grave and serious
She'd score the art of ev'ry brute. Happy the course in which he fled,
While, in the language of despair, With his anxious trembling prey ;
Each choirister his friend bemoans. To a pitying friend it led,
Quitting the gay and sportive field, Who sat the little pris'ner free;
They seek the deepeft cypress Friends to liberty reliev'd,
grove, But of late from tyranny,
And, as they tenderly complain, To hare the bleffing chey receiv'd
They thus express the soul of love, Thus express'd their sympathy.
Dear companion of our pleasure !
Only beaft that ranks with birds: Fellow suff'rer, we discharge you No pow'rs of song our grief can mea. From the Tyrant whom you fear ;
sure, And in order to enlarge you,
Nor can it be express'd hy words 1 Give you leave to serve the fair.
Hapless the hour when thus unguard. Free the lives whom love beguiles,
ed, And her filken chain confines; So much innocence fhould fall : Pleasing them, enjoy their smiles, Nor Mall thy soe be unrewarded, Those are pleasure's riches mines. But hated and despised by all.
In deep diAress while we lament you, From me thou haft no cause to lex ;
The gain is your's, the loss is our's! I'll turn to panegyrick all my fkill: From cat’s paws free, with outs in And if thy pišure I am forced to plenty,
blame, You're sporting in Elysian bowr'e, I'll fay noft handsome things about The nightingale and bon o'liocoln,
the frame. The spring bird, finch, and mourn. Don't be caft down---inftead of gail, ful dove
Molaffes from my pen thall fall; With many more than I can think on, And yet I fear thy goller it is such ;
Gave their allene in Brains of love. That could I pour a Niagara Sol nid in purple clouds his beams.... dowo, --Soft Cynthia veil'd her silver lighi ; Were Niagara praise thou would'! Wuen neeping and when waking not frown, dreains,
Nor think the thond'ring full det Gave deeper horrors to the night, drop too much. The fuo'ral rights were duly paid, Ye gods! the portrait of the king,
And Bun with dignity interd; A very Saraceni a glorious things While music all her pow'rs display'd, It shows a Haming pencil, let me tell ye. And monuments of praise were Methinks I see the people ftare, rear'd.
And, anxious for his life, declare, ---Screech-owls and frogs and whig- “ King George hath got a firefhip is u'wills,
his belly." In fad folemnity of grief,
Thy Charles ! what must I lay to With tree-toads, to the murmʻring
thai ? rulls
Each face un meaning and fo fat! Responsive, yield a mort relief... Indeed forf coufin,to a piece of board; But no relief from lympathy,
But, Muse, we've promisd in our Een of such melting friends as lays, there,
To give the painter nought but Can ever chear the weeping eye,
praile, Or yield the sufferers lafting peace. So, madam, 'tis but fair to keep our
Well then, the Charle of Mr. By Peter PINDAR, a diftant relation
Wel, to the Poet of Thebes, and Lau- And Oliver, I do proteft, arcate to the Academy, London, And eke the witnesses of resurre&tion;
Will ftop a bole, keep out the wiod, ODE. II.
And make a properer wiadow
Than great Corregio's, us’d for horse (Inserted merely for the excellent
protection. Humour and Wit of the Author.)
They'll make gond Hoor-clothoy
Where bull dogs, heroes, For table cov'rings, be treasures,
With butchers, form for flies mot Flames, thunder, lighining, in con
charming Rappers: fusion meer!
And Monday mornings at the tob, Behold the works of Mr. West! Wheu queens of fods their liden That arrift fir fall be addresi
scrub, His pencil with due rev'rence I greet,
Make for the blue-nos'd nymphs de Still' bleeding from his last year's lightful wrappers. wound
Wef, I forgot laft year to say, Which from may doughty lance he
Thy angles did my delicacy hert; found; Methinks I hear the trembling pain. ter bawl,
* Corregio's beft pi&ores were ice * Why do thou persecute me, Saul?" tually made use of in the royal flables WEST let me whisper in thy ear... in the north to keep the wind from Saug as a thief within a mill,
the tails of the horses.
Poetical Esays. Their linen so much coarseness did T'other day comes a dun, with good display,
Sir you well know, What's worse, cach had not above What say you? (peak louder a little, half a thirt,
You borrow'u, says he, three twelve I tell thee, cambrick fine as webs of
months ago, (pideis,
Alas! friend I can't hear a tittle, Qught to have deck'd that brace of ou oke me en pounds, then louder heav'nly riders.
he cries, Could not their saddle bags, pray, And repeats it as strong as he can; jump
Serenely I set, and I cock my deaf To fomewhat longer for each rump?
ear, I'd buy much becter at a wapping
Till he hardly can think me the man. shop,
My hearing's quite loft, then louder By vulgar tongues baptiz'd a flop !
I cry, Do mind, my friend, thy hits another And your money,says he, too I fear, time,
Pox on him,'tis folly to talk to a poft, And thou shalt cut a figure in my
So he leaves me as mad as a hare. rhime,
Thus my life, night and day, in roft Sublimely tow'ring midit th' atlantic
indolence Aws, roar,
Neither dunning nor brawling I fear, I'll waft thy praise, to thy t native Ye marry'd men all, as ye with for shore;
se pose, Where liberty's brave sons their
Be sure to be deal with one ear. peans fing, Nor fear the scourge of bishop or of king
A Dialogue between a Married
Man and a Mariner.
That change would but augment my
care, A constant Reader.
For women's fond adorer,
Had need of store of thiping too
Married Man. But few there are found, who tho' wise, would refuse
Then fince you neither will exchange, To possess these fair organs of life. Nor I can't better make her, When my wife she begins her loud W'ell put the woman in the Min, wind pipes to clear,
And let King Neptune take her. Like a peal would the world rend asunder,
And put him in coinmotion,
To fail upon the ocean.
If the following bas merit suffi- with your consent l'll take the thip,