Ros. It is the prettiest creature ever bred In garden, or that brows'd on flowery bed.

Theo. Shew it.

Ros. I dare not; it away will fly,
And I shall lose the darling of my eye.
My heart misgives me.
Theo.

Open by degrees
On some one limb I'll, to secure it, seize,
O! with what wisdom are all things design'd
Man of his God and latter end to mind!
Duty and death are by all creatures taught :
Tho' earthly, they raise heavenly-minded thought.
This fly God's goodness to instruct me sends:
O may I learn the lesson God intends!

Ros. I little thought, dear Theodore, that I Brought you a preacher, when I brought a fly.

Theo. You have, for me and for Rosetta too;
The same it teaches me, it teaches you.

Ros. What Theodore esteems a teacher fit,
To that Rosetta gladly will submit;
But tell me what and how this fly can teach,
To me 'tis mystery, and beyond my reach.

Theo. Once more, my dear, the amiable mold
Of this stupendous little thing behold;
The Lilies which great Solomon outvie,
Are far less glorious than this little Fly!
The great CREATOR's power and wisdom shine,
Concentred in this miniature divine ;
Bright various colour'd rays his wings adorn ;
He of the garden is the sov'reign born;
Now with spread wings the pliant air he sweeps,
Then on his legs he on the surface creeps;
He perches on sweet plants, sucks od'rous flowrs,
Enjoys the sun, retreats to shady bow'rs;
This Fly, my love, you see so brisk and gay,
Never lives longer than a single day;
'Tis therefore styl'd a Day-Fly, and in this,
Learn the evanid state of earthly bliss.

Ros. Now I perceive, my dearest, that the fly May of a preacher well the place supply. Theo. In bliss, my love, none here that Fly

transcend, Born in a paradise his life to spend ; If you with sinful men such flies compare, They of the two on earth much happier are : They paradise enjoy, which we have lost ; They have full ease, we to and fro' are toss'd ; The world.we should renounce, we most admire ; All things to our eternal bane conspire ; The human butterflies of either sex, Who with their gaudy dress themselves perplex, Live but a day, tho' Hutt'ring many years. Life on the death-bed like one day appears; This earthly life, Rosetta, then despise, And to the life supernal lift your eyes.

Ros. Dear Theodore, O tell me how we best With trouble and temptation may contest.

Theo. Strive that this day may yesterday outdo, Of virtue nobler heights each day pursue ; GOD, to the present day our views confin'd, Would have us for the future live resign'd; Taught us to pray for only daily bread, And trust to him to be to-morrow fed. We'll live God's children, and to God resign'd, A brother and a sister to mankind. We'll to our fly give freedom, that he may Live his age o'er with happiness to-day; From him, each day, we'll learn to live content Upon the daily manna God has sent. With thanks to God we'll now our meal begin : Sweet is the meal which is not soured by sin; Sweet is the meal which wasted strength recruits, That God may of our vigour have the fruits. This day to future days shall be the plan, We'll every day DỌ ALL THE GOOD WE CAN.

The following Fragment was found in the Skeleton

Case at the Royal Academy, supposed to have been

deposited there by one of the Students.
BEHOLD this ruin-'twas a skull
Once of ethereal spirit full;
This narrow cell was Life's retreat,
This space was Thought's mysterious seat;
What beauteous pictures filĽd this spot!
What dreams of pleasure long forgot!
Nor Love, nor Joy, nor Hope, nor Fear,
Has left one trace on record here.
Beneath this mouldering canopy
Once shone the bright and busy eye;
But start not at the dismal void.
If social love that eye employ'd,
If with no lawless fire it gleam'd,
But through the dew of kindness beam'd;
The eye shall be for ever bright,
When stars and suns have lost their light.
Here in this silent cavern hung
The ready, swift, and tuneful tongue.
If Falsehood's honey it disdain's,
And, where it could not praise, was chain'd;
If, bold in Virtue's cause, it spoke,
Yet gentle concord never broke;
That tuneful tongue shall plead for thee,
When Death unveils eternity.
Say, did these fingers delve the mine?
Or with its envied rubies shine ?
To hew the rock, or wear the

gem,
Can nothing now avail to them!
But if the page of truth they sought,
Or comfort to the mourner brought,
These hands a richer meed shall claim,
Than all that waits on wealth or fame.

Avails it whether bare or shod
These feet the path of duty trod?
If from the bowers of Joy they fled,
To soothe Affliction's humble bed ;
If Grandeur's guilty bribe they spurn'd,
And home to Virtue's lap return'd,
These feet with angels' wings shall vie,
And tread the palace of the sky.

ENVY, A FRAGMENT.-Miss Bowdler.

ARGUMENT.

ENVY, her character; her dwelling near the road that leads to the Temple of Virtue. A fruit tree gives shelter and refreshment to travellers; she pulls off all the buds, to prevent it. A lamb takes shelter from the snow in her hut; she tears down the roof that it may not protect him, and leaves it so, that none may ever find shelter there.- Disturbs all travellers. -Schemos laid to defeat her.-Nothing will do but the shield of Truth, which is so bright that none dare carry it, because they cannot themselves stand it. At last Innocence, attended by MODESTY, undertakes it. ENVY attacks then with FURY, throws a dart, which, instead of hurting, only strikes off the veil which hid the face of Modesty, and makes all the world admire her. ENVY blushes for the first time; INNOCENCE holds up the shield.--Envy is dazzled, and becomes almost blind;- she flees from them, and wanders about the world, trying to burt every body, but being too blind to direct her darts, though they sometimes do harm, yet they always recoil upon herself, and give her the severest wounds.

1.

Ye pleasing dreams of heavenly poesy,
Which oft have sooth'd my throbbing heart to rest,
And, in soft strains of sweetest minstrelsy,
Have lull'd the tumults of this anxious breast,
Or charm'd my soul with pleasures unpossess'd :

How sweet with you to wander all the day
In airy scenes, by Fancy's pencil dress?d,
To trace the windings of her devious way,
To feel her magic force, and own her boundless

sway.

II.

See at her call the awful forms arise
Of ancient heroes, moulder'd in the tomb;
Again Vice trembles thro' her deep disguise,
And Virtue triumphs in a dungeon's gloom,
Or smiles undaunted at a tyrant's doom.
Again she waves on high her magic wand-
The faded glories rise of Greece and Rome,
The heavenly Muses lead a tuneful band,
And Freedom's fearless sons unnumber'd hosts

withstand.

III.

And now to softer scenes my steps she leads,
The sweet retreats of Innocence and Love,
Where freshest flow'rets deck th' enameli'd meads,
And Nature's music warbles through the grove ;
'Mongst rocks and caverns now she loves to rove,
And mark the torrents tumbling from on high ;
And now she soars on daring wings,

above
The vast expanse of yon ethereal sky,
Or darts thro' distant time and long futurity.

IV. And oft, when weary nature sinks oppress'd Beneath the load of sickness and of pain, When sweetest music cannot lull to rest, And present pleasure spreads her charms in vain, Bright Fancy comes and bursts the mental chain, And bears the soul on airy wings away; Well pleas'd it wanders o'er her golden reign,