There, Goddess, seek Urania's honour'd dome,*
And there thy choicest gifts bestow.

Bid Pain and Languor far from Temperance flee,
From Wisdom, and from Innocence;

Restore her equal flow of manner'd wit,
And let her eye resume its fire,

Potent to speak each varying grace of soul,
And deal delight on polish'd life;
Let not this friend of Woe thy friendship want,
Nor Charity herself thy alms-

Not that I need implore thee to sustain
Her never-falt'ring force of heart ;
Deep-rooted there her matchless virtue blooms,
Defying Death, and Time, and Thee.
Farewel, Hygeia-seek the meadowy grove,
And there thy choicest gifts bestow,
Then will I rear thee on this airy mount
A shrine of turf and fragrant thyme,

Besprinkled thrice with waters from yon spring,
Now glittering to the rising sun.

* Fauston Hall, the residence of Urania, the late Mrs. Hawkins Browne.

ON

THE FEAR OF DEATH.

From J. J. ROUSSEAU.

HERE were it granted endless life to choose,
- Well might the wise the lengthen'd ill refuse,
Rejoic'd to pass the port of Death, that leads
Where happier Heav'n this stormy scene succeeds.
Were Death no more our sure retreat design'd
From cruel fortune and unjust mankind,

These ills of life would sharpen all their stings,
And Hope, kind soother, drop her heav'nward wings.
How blest the honest poor, who, lab'ring, know
Nought of those ever-flowing founts of woe,
Which vice-taught Fancy and Ambition vain
Call into life, and at their cost maintain—
Who turn the spindle, and the plough who guide,
Pay no such tax for folly and for pride.
No needless terrors haunt th' unletter'd poor,
When Death presents him at the cottage door.
Wou'd'st thou too meet him with a soul resign'd,
Be, as these little ones, of lowly mind;
Let Nature's humbler walks and views suffice,
Unlearn'd in vice become, in virtue wise-
Beyond this dream of life thy hopes extend,
And Death shall meet the welcome of a friend.

Y 2

A

SONNET

то

MY INFANT SON.

Written in 1779.

SWEET, rosy cherub, on thy wond'ring eyes
Surrounding Nature scenes of new delight
Profusely pouring, thro' the raptur'd sight
Matter for Wisdom's future toil supplies.
Yet, oh my son, tho' childhood is unwise,

Thy breast, enrich'd with priceless innocence,
Feels not in guilt the sting of elder sense,
Nor heaves with Sorrow's still returning sighs:

Thy father would aspire, my lovely child,

To make his life-worn heart as pure as thine; For, oh! the man alone, who can refine His soul by copying childhood's nature mild, Becomes in Heav'n the heir of bliss divine

On earth of half its sorrows is beguil'd.

A

SONNET

ΤΟ

AGATHION,

Who had presented the author with some drawings of certain scenes, described by him in a fictitious narrative.

Он!

may these pencil'd tablets long remain

Proofs of Agathion's taste, chastis'd, and true,
Whom calm Aglaia, with her sisters two,

Best taught the mimic line and tuneful strain.
Tho' gloomy Night, now dark'ning earth and main,
All Nature's beauties banish from my view,
My lamp shall here her choicer scenes * renew
Of shapely mount, dun grove, and sunny plain.

Many years ago I wrote as much as two octavo volumes, in part of a very extensive plan, for the execution of which I might at least have hoped for leisure, had I continued in that situation of retirement which I had then reason to expect would be my situation for life. The main end of this work was to illustrate, by feigned example, the profit and beauty of Christianity. God willing, I may finish it, though upon a more contracted plan than originally was designed. But life is uncertain; and if that were more certain, the inventive spirits of a man may be damped by age, sorrow, and discouragements; and if his mind

Nor can I wonder that his tranquil mind

With fine observance waits on loveliest Arts,
Ambitious of the meed the Graces give,

For sure the heart with moral worth refin'd,
Harmonious temper to the soul imparts,

Whence the fair labours of the Muses thrive.

should be left at liberty in these respects, the state of the times (if he has any public spirit) must draw the current of his intellectual activity into those directions which are suggested by present occurrences. Such being the case, I have been tempted to extract from the abovementioned unfinished work, a few poetical interspersions, which are printed under the head of Inscriptions in the pleasure-grounds belonging to castle Valdesso, in the kingdom of Valencia, in Spain.