See how they have fafely furviv'd, The charms of the late blowing rofe COWPER. THE HERMIT. AT the clofe of the day, when the hamlet is ftill, And mortals the fweets of forgetfulness prove; When nought but the torrent is heard on the hill, And nought but the nightingale's fong in the 1 grove; 'Twas then, by the cave of a mountain reclin'd, A Hermit his nightly complaint thus began: Tho' mournful his numbers, his foul was refign'd, He thought as a fage, tho' he felt as a man. "Ah! why, thus abandon'd to darkness and woe, Why thus, lonely Philomel, flows thy fad ftrain; 66 "For Spring fhall return, and a lover bestow ; "And thy bofom no trace of misfortune retain. "Yet, if pity inspire thee, O cease not thy lay! "Mourn, sweetest companion, man calls thee to mourn; "O foothe him whofe pleasures, like thine, pafs away! "Full quickly they pass-but they never return! "Now, gliding remote on the verge of the sky, "The moon, half extinct, a dim crefcent displays; "But lately I mark'd, when majestic on high, "She fhone, and the planets were loft in the blaze. "Roll on then, fair orb, and with gladness pursue "The path that conducts thee to splendor again: "But man's faded glory no change shall renew: "Ah, fool! to exult in a glory so vain! 'Tis night, and the landfcape is lovely no more : "I mourn; but, ye woodlands, I mourn not for you; "For morn is approaching, your charms to restore, "Perfum'd with fresh fragrance, and glitt ring with dew. "Nor yet for the ravage of Winter I mourn; "Kind Nature the embryo-blossom shall fave : But when fhall fpring vifit the mouldering urn! "O when shall it dawn on the night of the grave !" BEATTIE. THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE GLOW WORM. THE prudent nymph, whofe cheeks disclofe The lily and the blufhing rofe, From public view her charms will screen, And rarely in the crowd be feen; This fimple truth fhall keep her wife, The fairest fruits attract the flies! One night a Glow-worm, proud and vain, Cried, Sure there never was in nature All other infects that I fee, The frugal and induftrious bee, Who fervilely their lives employ Mean, vulgar herd! ye are my scorn, She spoke. Attentive on a spray, "Deluded fool, with pride elate, Know 'tis thy beauty brings thy fate: Lefs dazzling, long thou might'st have lain Unheeded on the velvet plain; Pride, foon or late, degraded mourns, And beauty wrecks whom fhe adorns." E MOORI. HYMN TO PROSPERITY. CELESTIAL maid, receive this pray'r! Should gild the brow of toiling Care, Let humble Worth, without a fear, Nor let me ever fee a tear, O blefs me with an honest mind, Humanely warm to all mankind, With confcious truth and honour ftill Thus form'd, thus happy, let me dare On Heav'n's dread King to gaze; Conclude my night in ardent pray'r, And wake my morn with praife: |