This moveable structure of shelves, This china, that decks the alcove, Has ne'er been reveal'd to us yet: All these are not half that I owe Benignity, friendship, and truth; Much less could he alter her mind. Thus compass'd about with the goods I indulge my poetical moods In many such fancies as these; And fancies I fear they will seemPoets' goods are not often so fine; The poets will swear that I dream, When I sing of the splendour of mine. ΤΟ MY COUSIN, ANNE BODHAM, ON RECEIVING FROM HER A NET-WORK PURSE, MADE BY HERSELF. 1793. My gentle Anne, whom heretofore, I danced and fondled on my knee, I thank thee for my purse. Gold pays the worth of all things here; I therefore, as a proof of love, The best things kept within it. HYMN FOR THE USE OF THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL AT OLNEY. HEAR, Lord, the song of praise and prayer In heaven, thy dwelling-place, From infants made the public care, And taught to seek thy face. Thanks for thy word, and for thy day; And grant us, we implore, Thanks that we hear!-But O impart That we may listen with our heart, For if vain thoughts the minds engage What hope that at our heedless age Much hope, if thou our spirits take Wisdom and bliss thy word bestows, And be thy mercies shower'd on those STANZAS SUBJOINED TO THE YEARLY BILL OF MORTALITY OF THE PARISH OF ALL-SAINTS, NORTHAMPTON,' ANNO DOMINI 1787. Pallida Mors æquo pulsat pede pauperum tabernas, Hor. Pale Death with equal foot strikes wide the door WHILE thirteen moons saw smoothly run All these, life's rambling journey done, Was man (frail always) made more frail Did famine or did plague prevail, That so much death appears? No; these were vigorous as their sires, This annual tribute Death requires, 1 Composed for John Cox, parish-clerk of Northampton Like crowded forest-trees we stand, Green as the bay-tree, ever green, The gay, the thoughtless, have I seen; Read, ye that run, the awful truth No present health can health ensure Aud, O! that, humble as my lot, These truths, though known, too much forgot, I may not teach in vain. So prays your clerk with all his heart, And, ere he quits the pen, Begs you for once to take his part, And answer all-Amen! D |