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Though not a grace appears on strits28c.
But that she lasts, and it on, goes ta det.
Cooscious of age she recollects her pictly
And , not always with eye

Who spann'd her waist, and sbo, sherzez Tompt ev'ry movement of his heart and mind:
What purpose has the King of salots in the
From servile fear, or be the more enslar'd!
To loose the links, that galld mankind DONT

Scorus the base hireling, and the slavish drudge.

Shall be, for such deliv'rance freely wrought,
Recompense ill? He trembles at the thought.
His Master's int'rest and his own combin'd
Thought, word and deed, his liberty evince,
His freedom is the freedom of a prince.
Maa's obligations infinite, of course
His life should prove that he perceives their force;
His utmost he can reader is but small-
The principle and motire all in all.
Tou hare two servants-Tom, an arch, sly rogue,
From

top to toe the Geta now in vogue,
Centeel in figure, easy in address,
Mores without noise, and swift as an express,
Keports a message with a pleasing grace,
Expert in all the duties of his place ;
Say, on what hinge does his obedience move?
Hlas he a world of gratitude and love?
So, not a spark-'tis all mere sharper's play;
He likes your house, your housemaid, and your

pay;
Redace his wages, or get rid of her,
Tom quits you, with-Your most obedient, Sir.
The dinner serv'd, Charles takes his usual stand,
Watches your eye, anticipates command;
Sighis is perhaps your appetite should fail ;
And it be but suspects a frown, turns pale ;
Corsults all day your intrest and your ease,
Kichaly rewarded if he can but please;
And, proud to make his firm attachment known,
To save your life would votly risk his own.
Now which stands highest in your serious thought
Charles

, without doubt, say you—and so he ought;
One act, that from a thankful heart proceeds,
Excels ten thousand mercenary deeds.
Thus Heav'o approves as honest and sincere
The work of gen'roas love and filial fear;
But with averted eyes th' omniscient Jurige

Scrawid

upoa glass miss Bridaet's lover Rate
Who stole ber slipper, all'd it vita rus,
And drank the little bumper erry day.
Of temper as eavecom'd as an a3p,
Censorious, and her ev'ry word a wap;
lo faithful mesn'ry she records the erine
Or real, or fictitious, of the tipes ;
Laughs at the reputations she has torn,
And holds them daagling at arm's leo e

Such are the fruits of sanctimonkus pride
Of malice fed while flesh is mortired:
Take, Madam, the reward of all your prar's
Where hermits and where bramics ceci va
Your portion is with them. - Nay, serez 1899
But, if you please, some fathoms lower dia?

Astist attend-your brushes and your faizle
Produce then-take a chair-Ros droits
Oh sorrowful and sad! the streaming fun
Channel her cheeks-a Niobe appears!
Is this a saint? Throw tiats and all majo
True Piety is cheerful as the day,
Will weep indeed and heare a pitying gras
For others' woes, but smiles upon her 05.

Why fulls the Gospel like a gracious dev! To cali up plenty from the teeming earth, Or curse the desert with a tentold dearta? Is it that Adam's offspring may be sar'd

Or bind them faster on, and add still more
The freeborn Christian has no chains to poort,
Or, if a chain, the golden one or lore:
No fear attends to quench his glowin; fire
What fear ise feels, his gratitude inspires.

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Nor drench'd throughout, and hopeless of his

albey never sin-or if (as all offend)

1x though the pope has lost his int'rest here,

at plea refuted, other quirks they seek-
And Heav'n no doubt shall be their home at last.

Come they still, small whisper in your ear-
He has no hope who never had a fear;
He may perhaps--perhaps he may-too late.

The path to bliss abounds with many a snare;
Learning is one, and wit, however rare.
(Santion bim if you please. Voltaire?The same.)
with spirit, genius, eloquence, supplied,

L'd long, wrote much, laugh'd heartily, and died ;
TRUTH
Where dwell these matchless saists Le Cra

cries.
Ev'n at your side, Sir, and before your eyra,
The favour'd fer-th' enthusiasts To
And pleas'd at heart because en body Erecht
Sometimes a canting bypocrite is found

,
Reproach a people with his single fall,
And cast his filthy raiment at them all.
Attend !-an apt similitude shall shoe
Whence springs the conduct that ofer des gens

See where it smokes along the sounding pin
Blown all aslaat, a driving, dasbing rain,
Peal upon peal redoubling all around,
Shakes it again and faster to the ground;
Now flashing wide, now glancing as a play,
Swift beyond thought the lightnings dart aver,
Ere yet it came the træviller urg'd his steeds
And hurried, but with unsuccessful speed;
He drops the rein, and leares bip to bis piet.

sze trivial slips their daily walk attend,
Suppose, unlook d-for in a scene so rude,

Tee poor are near at hand, the charge is small,
Long hid by interposing hill or wood,

A slight gratuity atones for all.
Some mansion, neat and elegantly dress'd,
By some kiud hospitable heart possessid,

dad pardons are not sold as once they were,
Offer him warmth, security, and rest;

o papist more desirous to compound, Think with what pleasure, safe and at his eas,

saa some grave sinners upon English ground. He hears the tempest howling in the trees; What glowing thanks liis lips and heart emplos,

Mercy is infinite, and man is weak;
While danger past is turn'd to present jos.

Le fatare shall obliterate the past,
So fares it with the singer, when he feels
A growing dread of vengeance at his heels :
His conseience, like a glassy lake before,
Lash'd into foaming waves begins to roar;
The law grown clamorous, though silest loos,
Arraigos him-charges him with ev'ry wrong-
Asserts the rights of his offended Lord,
And death or restitution is the word:
The last impossible, he fears the first,
And, having well deserv'd, espects toe worst.

Then welcome refuge, and a peaceful home;
Oh for a shelter from the wrath to come!
Crash me ye rocks; ye falling mountains hide,
Or bury me in ocean's angry tide.
The scrutiny of those all.seeing eyes
I dare not-And you need not, God replies;
The remedy you want I freely give:
The book shall teach you-read, believe, and livet
Tis done--the raging storm is heard no more,
Mercy receives him on her peaceful shore :
dad justice, guardian of the dread command,
Dieps the red rengeance from his willing hand.
à soul redeem'd demands a life of praise;
llence the complexion of his future days,
liesce a demeanour holy and unspeck'd,
had the world's hatred, as it's sure effect.
Sve lead a life unblamable and just,
Their own dear virtue their unshaken trust :

And be that never doubted of his state,

The Frenchman, first in literary fame,

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take, the, chords upon the stretch,

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Pray'r would add faith, and faith would fix thetusely won the Gospel plan,

The Scripture was his jest-book, whence he drew
Bon mots to gall the Christian and the Jew;
An infidel in health, but what when sick?
On-then a text would touch bin at the quick:
View him at Paris in his last career,
Surrounding thongs the demigod revere,
Exalted on his pedestal of pride,
And fum'd with frankincense on ev'ry side,
He begs their fatt'ry with his latest breath,
And smother'd in't at last, is prais'd to death.

Yon cottager, who weaves at her own door,
Pillow and bobbins all her little store;
Content though mean, and cheerful if not gay,
Shufiling her threads about the livelong day,
Just t'ards a scanty pittance, and at night
Lie3 down secure, her heart and pocket light;
She, for her humble sphere by nature fit,
Hlas little understanding, and no wit,
Receives no praise; but, though her lot be such,
(Toilsome and indigent) she renders much;
Just knows, and knows no more, her Bible true-
A truth the brilliant Frenchman never knew;
And in that charter reads with sparkling eyes
lier title to a treasure in the skies.

O happy peasant! Oh unhappy bard! llis the mere tinsel, hers the rich reward ; lle prais d perhaps for ages yet to come, She never heard of half a mile from home: lle lost in errours his vain heart prefers, She safe in the simplicity of hers.

Not many wise, rich, noble, or profound
In science, win one inch of heav'nly ground.
And is it not a mortifying thought
The poor should gain it, and the rich should not!
No--the voluptuaries, who ne'er forget
One pleasure lost, lose Heav'n without regret;

rouse them, and give to pray'r,
there.

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The poor should gain it, and the rich sbor Regret would rouse them, and give birth tape

That question has it's answer-What is man? Pray's would add faith, and lath would its

Sinful and weak, in ev'ry sense a wretch;
An instrument, whose chords upon the stretch,

Not that the Former of us all in this,
Or aught he does, is govern'd by caprice;
The supposition is replete with sin,
Aad bears the brand of blasphemy burnt in.
Kot 50- the silver truinpet's heav'nly call
Sounds for the poor, but sounds alike for all:
lings are invited, and would kings obey,
No slaves on Earth more welcome were than they:
Bit royalty, nobility, and state,
Are such a dead prepouderating weight,
Taat endless bliss (how strange soe'er it seem)
La counterpoise, fies up and kicks the beam.
Ta open, and ye cannot enter-why?
Because ye will not, Cooyers would reply-
And he says much that many may dispute
Add cavil at with ease, but none refute.
O bless'd effect of penurg and want,
The seed sown there, how vig'rous is the plant!
No soil like poverty for growth divine,
As leanest land supplies the richest wine.
Larth gives too little, giving only bread,
To sourish pride, or turu the weakest head :
To len the sounding jargon of the schools
Serts what it is a cap and bell for fools:
Tse light they walk by, kindled from above,
Shows them the shortest way to life and love:
Thes, strangers to the controversial field,
Where deists, al ways foil'd, yet scorn 10 yield,
And never check'd by what impedes the wise,
Lelieve, rush forward, and possess the prize.
Envy, ye great, the dull unletter'd small:
Te have much cause for envy—but not all.

We boast some rich ones whom the Gospel sways, a

And one who wears a coronet and prays;
Like gleanings of an olive-tree they show,
llere and there one upon the topmost bough.
How teadily upon the Gospel plan,

The Scriptore was his jest bodi, rice is :9
Bor not to call the Christian dat
Ao infidel in health, bot sbat riese
05-ben a test would touch baat 13
View him at Paris in his let center,
Surrounding throngs the demon pad tereta
Exalted on his pedestal of pnde,
And lum'd with tranki crise Da ETITS:
He begs their fatt'ry with bis est bones
And smother'd in't at last, as przsid ta

Yon cotlager, who weares at her on his
Pillow add bobbins all her little star,

Coptent though mean, and cheerial :
· Shufting her threads about the inte JESSY

Just caros a sabtg pillance, and at 15%
Lies down secure, her heart and pour
She, for her humble sphere by patare 4
Has little understanding, anu do vit,
Receives no praise; but, though her ist es
(Toilsome and indigent) she restes
Just kuows, and kuows no more, her B.22
A truth the brilliant French aan beid
And i that charter reads with sportistes
Her title to a treasure in the skies.

O happy peasant! 05 unhappy burd'
IIis the mere tinsel, hers the rich regard;
lle prais'd perhaps for ages set to come,
She never heard of half a mile iron
Ile lost in errours his raia heart preters,
She sate in the simplicity of hers.

Not many wise, rich, noble, or profcand
In scicuce, win ope ioch of beavals gros

No-the voluptuaries, who ne'er forget One pleasure lost, lose Heav'n without regreti

there.

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