The AFFECTIONATE HEART. By JOSEPH COTTLE. Let the great man, his treasures possessing, Tho' foibles may sometimes o'ertake him, Affection! thou soother of care, "Mid the anguish that preys on the breast, And the storms of mortality's state; What shall lull the afflicted to rest, But the joys that on sympathy wait What is Fame, bidding Envy defiance, What is wit, what is learning, or science, Even Genius may weary the sight, It shall thrive when the flattering forms, That encircle creation decay; It shall live mid the wide-wasting storms, That bear all undistinguish'd away. When Time, at the end of his race, OLD CHRISTOVAL'S ADVICE, Recibió un Cavallero, paraque cultivasse sus tierras, à un Quintero, y para pagarle algo adelantado le pidió fiador, y no teniendo quien le fiasse, le prometiò delante del sépulcro. de San Isidro, que cumpliria su palabra, y si no, que el Santo le castigasse: con lo qual el Cavallero le pagó toaa su soldada, ye le fió. Mas desagradecido aquel hombre, no haciendo caso de su promessa, se huyó, sin acabar de servir el tiempo concertado. Passó de noche sin reparar en ella, por la Iglesia de San Andrés, donde estaba el cuerpo del siervo de Dios. Fuè cosa maravillosa, que andando corriendo toda la noche, no se apartó de la Iglesia, sino que toda se le fuè en dar mil bueltas al rededor de ella, hasta que por la manana, yendo el amo a quexarse de San Isidro, y pedirle cumpliesse su fianza, halló à su Quintero alli, dando mas y mas bueltas, sin poderse haver apartado de aquel sitio. Pidio perdon al Santo, y a su amo, al qual satisfizo despues enteramente por su trabajo. Flos San&torum, por Alonso de Villegas. If thy debtor be poor, old Christoval cried, For he who preserves a poor man from want If thy neighbour should sin, old Christoval cried, For remember it is by the mercy of God At sixty and seven the hope of heaven I might not have gone there when I died. You shall have the farm, young Christoval, But a surety provide, in whom I can confide, I was poor and I had not a friend on earth, We stood by the porch of St. Andres' church,. Accept for my surety St. Isidro,. I ventured to make reply, The Saint in Heaven may perhaps be my friend,. But friendless on earth am I. We enter'd the church and came to his grave And I fell on my bended knee; I am friendless, holy St. Isidro, And I venture to call upon thee. I call upon thee my surety to be, I was idle, the day of payment came on, I fear'd the wrath of St. Isidro But I fear'd Henrique more. On a dark dark night I took my flight It chanced by St. Andres' church As I pass'd the door I thought what I had swore Upon St. Isidro's day, And I seem'd to fear because he was near, And faster Ihasten'd away. |