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She heaves is big with horrour. But the foe,
Elegy to pity.
When fancy paints the scene of deep distress;
When rigid fate denies the pow'r to bless. 2. Not all the sweets Arabia's gales eonvey
From flow’ry meads, can with that sigh compare ;
Seem near so beauteous as that falling tear. 3. Devoid of fear, the fawns around thee play ;
Emblem of peace, the dove before thee fies;
Beneath thy feet no hapless insect dies.
To spring the partridge from the guileful foe;
And stop the hand uprais'a to give the blow. 5. And when the air with heat meridian glows,
And nature droops beneath the conqu’ring gleam,
Save sinking flies that float along the stream. 6. Or turn to nobler, greater tasks thy care,
To me thy syinpathetick gifts impart;
And justly boast the gen'rous feeling heart. vy. Teach me to sooth the helpless orphan's grief;
With timely aid the widow's woes assuage;
And be the sure resource of drooping age. 8. So when the genial spring of life shall fade,
And sinking nature own the dread decay,
solitary abode in the Island of Juan Fernandez. 1. I AM monarch of all I survey, .
My right there is none to dispute
I am lord of the fowl and the brute.
That sages have seen in thy face?
Than reign in this horrible place.
2. I am out of humanity's reach,
I must finish my journey alone ;
I start at the sound of my own.
My form with indifference see: They are so unacquainted with man,
Their tameness is shocking to me. 8. Society, friendship, and love,
Divinely, bestow'd upon man, Oh had I the wings of a dove,
How soon would I taste you again! My sorrows I then might assuage
In the ways of religion and truth; Might learn from the wisdom of age,
And be cheer'd by the sallies of youth. 4. Religion! what treasure untold
Resides in that heavenly word!
Or all that this earth can afford.
These valleys and rocks never heard ;
Or smil'd when a sabbath appear'd. 5. Ye win 's that have made me your sport,
Convey to this desolate shore,
Of a land I shall visit no inore.
A wish or a tholight after me?
Though a friend I am never to see. 6. How fleet is a glance of the mind !
Compar'd with the speed of its fight, The tempest itself lags behind,
And the swift-wing'd arrows of light. When I think of my own native land,
In a moment I seem to be there; But, alas! recollection at hand
Soon hurries me back to despair. 7. But the sea-fowl is gone to her nest,
The beast is laid down in his lair ; Even here is a season of rest,
And I to my cabin repair. There's mercy in every place;
And mercy-encouraging thought! Gives even affliction a grace,
And reconciles man to his lot.
Gratitude. 1. When all thy mercies, O my God!.
My rising soul surveys,
Transported with the view, I'm lost
In wonder, love, and praise.
The gratitude declare,
But thou canst read it there.
And all my wants redrest,
And hung upon the breast.
Thy mercy lent an ear,
To form themselves in pray’r. 5. Unnumber'd comforts to my soul,
Thy tender care bestow'd, Before my infant heart conceiv'd
From whom those comforts flow'd. 6. When, in the slipp’ry paths of youth,
With heedless steps, I ran,
And led me up to man.
It gently clear'd my way;
More to be feard than they.
With health renew'd my face ;
Reviv'd my soul with grace.
Has made my cup run o'er;
• Has doubled all my store.
My daily thanks employ ; Nor is the least a cheerful heart,
That tastes those gifts with joy. 11. Through ev'ry period of my life,
Thy goodness I'll pursue ;
The glorious theme renew.
Divide thy works no more,
Thy mercy shall adore.
A joyful song I'll raise,
SECTION VII. A man perishing in the snow; from whence reflections are raised
on the miseries of life.
All winter drives along the darken'd air;
How sinks his soul!
Renders the savage wil ierness more wild.
Of cover'd pits, unfitthonnably deep,
Where the fresh fountain from the bottom boils.
Beneath the shelter of the shapeless drift,
His wife, his children, and his friends unseen. 8. In vain for him th' officious wife prepares
The fire fair-blazing, and the vestment warm;
Stretch'd out and bleaching in the northern blasto 6. Ah, little think the gay licentious proud,
Whom pleasure, pow'r, and affluence surround;
Ah little think they, while they dance along,
And all the sad variety of pain! .
Or more devouring flame! How many bleed,
Unbounded passion, madness, guilt, remorse! 8. How many, rack'd with honest passions, droop
In deep retir'd distress! How many stand
A morning hymn.
Almighty, thine this universal frame,
Thy goodness beyond thought, and pow'r divine. 2. Speak ye who best can tell, ye sons of light,
Angels; for ye behold him, and with songs