To me thy better gifts impart, For wealth, the smiles of glad content, When fortune drops her gay parade, By thee protected, I defy Of ignorance and spite; Of undiscerning wit. From envy, hurry, noise, and strife, Pursue thee to thy peaceful groves, In all thy graces drest. He bids Ilisus' tuneful stream Of perfect, fair, and good; Reclaim'd, her wild licentious youth Confest the potent voice of truth, And felt its just control; The passions ceas'd their loud alarms, And virtue's soft persuasive charms O'er all their senses stole. Thy breath inspires the poet's song, No more to fabled names confin'd, My thoughts direct their flight: Wisdom's thy gift, and all her force From thee deriv'd, unchanging source Of interlectual light. O send her sure, her steady ray, Through life's perplexing road; And through its gloom direct my soul Beneath her clear discerning eye Of folly's painted show; She sees, thro' ev'ry fair disguise, TRUE BENEVOLENCE. Miss Carter. THE other day, says Ned to Joe, "I own," says Joe, "that, to the poor (You prove it ev'ry minute) Your hand is open, to be sure; But, then, there's nothing in it." Anonymous. ODE TO PEACE. COME, peace of mind, delightful guest, Return and make thy downy nest Nor riches I nor power pursue, Where wilt thou dwell, if not with me, For whom, alas! dost thou prepare The great, the gay, shall they partake That murmurs through the dewy mead, For thee I panted, thee I priz'd, Whate'er I lov'd, before; And shall I see thee start away, And, helpless, hopeless, hear thee say→ Farewell! we meet no more? Cowper. THE SHRUBBERY. WRITTEN IN A TIME OF AFFLICTION. OH, happy shades, to me unblest! This glassy stream, that spreading pine, But fix'd unalterable care Foregoes not what she feels within, Shows the same sadness ev'ry where, And slights the season and the scene. For all that pleas'd in wood or lawn, Her animating smile withdrawn, Has lost its beauties and its pow'rs. The saint, or moralist, should tread |