A Monody on the Death of a Friend.

O grant, ye powers that rule the lives of all,
If I am doom'd, like him I mourn, to fall-
Far from the bosom of my home,

Where fate may call, and I may roam-
O grant my wish-may hearts like those which bled
O'er Kidder's corse, mourn too for me;
Such be the strangers round my bed;
Such be the tears they shed ;
Whoe'er they be :

Such be the sacred care my ashes find When death has clos'd the scene: Such be the impression on the youthful mind, When followers round my grave convene : But more than all-like his, my spirit rise,

And with him reign in worlds beyond the skies.

On the Death of a beloved Infant.

ON THE DEATH OF AN INFANT.

Almighty God! 'tis right, 'tis just,
That earthly frames should turn to dust;
But, ah! forgive the wishful tear
That would detain a spirit here.

Go, gentle babe, to realms of bliss, The chast'ning rod we humbly kiss; Thy Saviour calls thee home, my son, And let his holy will be done.

Thy earthly form, now icy cold,
Was framed in beauty's fairest mould;
But now, prepared by love divine,
A fairer, brighter form is thine.

Thy earthly parents loved thee wellSo much, that language fails to tell; But, ah! our love was weak and poor, Thy heavenly Parent loves thee more.

Here, thou wert tenderly caress'd,
Upon a fond maternal breast;
But angel-nurses, forms of love,
Shall now caress my babe above.

On the Death of a beloved Infant.

Fain would paternal love have taught
Thy little opening world of thought;
But we the pleasing task resign
To heavenly schools, and books divine.

'Twas all our thoughts and wishes still
To guard our darling here from ill;
But that great God who call'd thee home,
Has saved from greater ills to come.

Then let us hush the rising sigh,
And bid affliction's tear be dry;

Our child still lives! his sorrows o'er,
Where we shall meet to part no more.

There, shall the sweet maternal kiss,
Increase his joy-enhance his bliss;
There, through redeeming love and grace,
The father shall his son embrace.

Almighty God! 'tis right, 'tis just,
That earthly frames should turn to dust;
But, O the sweet, transporting truth-
The soul shall bloom in endless youth.

128

On the Death of a Child.

ON THE DEATH OF A CHILD.

In life's parterre, what numerous germs disclose,

The loveliest tints, the sweetest blushing dies! The enraptured florist views the opening rose, Screens it from every ruder wind that blows,

And richer, future charms, in embryo espies. But, ah! the spoiler stalks abroad, whose breath Is pestilence, whose chilling touch is death! With merciless hand he crops the flower, And all its promis'd beauty flies,

It falls beneath his baneful power,
Its sweets are scatter'd in an hour;

It shrinks, it withers, droops, and dies.
Yet, mourn not, ye, whose fost'ring love and care
To culture a beloved plant has fail'd;
'Tis but transplanted to a garden, where
Eternal summer smiles; 'twill flourish there
In living hues, by spoilers unassail'd.

Lines on the Death of a favourite Kitten.

LINES,

Written at the request of a young lady, on the Death of her favourite Kitten.

[A JUVENILE PRODUCTION.]

Shall sculptur'd blocks and columns rise
In memory of the worthless great,
And nought but tears, regrets, and sighs,
Declare the humbler victim's fate?

Forbid it, Justice! while my muse
Will not deny her friendly aid;
To Sylvia's virtues, though abstruse,
Shall due respect and praise be paid.

How pure her life! without a blot

To stain her bright untarnish'd fame! Though low, obscure, and mean, her lot, Yet long shall live her humble name.

How oft her sportive tricks and plays

Have pleased, amused, and banish'd care!

How oft her little winning ways

Have gain'd caresses from the fair!