Awaking, how could I but mufe

At what fuch a dream fhould betide?

But foon my ear caught the glad news
Which ferv'd my weak thought for a guide-
That Britannia, renown'd o'er the waves

For the hatred fhe ever has shown
To the black-fceptred rulers of flaves,
Refolves to have none of her own.

VERSES

PRINTED AT THE BOTTOM OF THE

YEARLY BILL OF MORTALITY

OF THE TOWN OF NORTHAMPTON,

Dec. 21, 1787.

Pallida Mors æquo pulfat pede pauperum tabernas
Regumque turres.

Pale Death with equal foot ftrikes wide the door
Of royal halls and hovels of the poor.

WHILE thirteen moons faw smoothly run
The Nen's barge-laden wave,

All these, life's rambling journey done,

Have found their home-the grave.

Was man (frail always) made more frail

Than in foregoing years?

Did famine, or did plague prevail,
That fo much death appears?

No; these were vigorous as their fires,
Nor plague nor famine came;
This annual tribute Death requires,

And never waves his claim.

Like crowded foreft-trees we stand,
And fome are mark'd to fall;

The axe will fmite at God's command,
And foon fhall finite us all.

Green as the bay-tree, ever green,
With its new foliage on,

The gay, the thoughtless have I feen;
I pafs'd-and they were gone.

Read, ye that run, the awful truth
With which I charge my page;
A worm is in the bud of youth,

And at the root of age.

No present health can health insure

For yet an hour to come;

No med'cine, though it often cure,
Can always balk the tomb.

And oh! that (humble as my lot,
And fcorn'd as is my ftrain *)

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!

* John Cox, Parish Clerk of Northampton.

ON A SIMILAR OCCASION,

FOR THE YEAR

-Placidiq; ibi demum morte quievit.

Virg.

Then calm at length he breath'd his foul away.

"The hour that terminates his fpan,

"His folly and his woe.

"Worlds fhould not bribe me back to tread

"Again life's dreary wafte;

"To fee my days again o'erfpread "With all the gloomy paft.

My home, henceforth, is in the skies,

66

Earth, feas, and sun adieu;

“All heaven unfolded to my eyes,

"I have no fight for you."

Thus fpake Afpatio, firm poffeft

Of faith's fupporting rod;

Then breath'd his foul into its reft,
The bofom of his God.

He was a man among the few

Sincere on Virtue's fide,

And all his ftrength from fcripture drew,

To hourly use apply'd.

That rule he priz'd, by that he fear'd,

He hated, hop'd, and lov'd, Nor ever frown'd, or fad appear'd,

But when his heart had rov'd.

For he was frail as thou or I,

And evil felt within,

But when he felt it, heav'd a figh,
And loath'd the thought of fin.

Such liv'd Afpatio, and at last,

Call'd up from earth to heav'n,

The gulph of death triumphant pass'd,
By gales of bleffing driven.

His joys be MINE, each reader cries,
When my laft hour arrives:

They fhall be yours, my verse replies,

Such ONLY be your

VOL. II.

lives.

A a