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النشر الإلكتروني

May Health infuse her balm; And some soft virtue in thee flow, To mitigate the pangs of woe, And bid the heart be calm.

O! may thy salutary streams,
Like those of Lethe's spring,
That bathe the silent land of dreams,
Some drops oblivious bring-
With that bless'd opiate in my bowl,
Far shall I from my wounded soul
The thorns of spleen remove-
Forget how there at first they grew,
And once again with man renew
The cordial ties of love.

For what avails the wretch to bear
Imprinted on his mind

The lessons of distrust and fear,
Injurious to mankind?—
Hopeless in his disastrous hour,

He sees the gathering tempest lour,

The bursting cloud impend

Towards the wild waste he turns his eye,

Nor can that happy port descry,

The bosom of a friend.

How changed since that propitious time,
When woo'd by fortune's gale,
Fearless in youth's adventurous prime,
He crowded every sail!-

The swelling tide, the sportive breeze
Lightly along the halcyon seas

His bounding pinnace bore-
In search of happiness, the while,
He steer'd by every fragrant isle,
And touch'd at every shore.
Ah me! to youth's ingenuous eye
What charms the prospect wears!-
Bright as the portals of the sky
The opening world appears;
There every figure stands confess'd,
In all the sweet advantage dress'd
Of Candour's radiant robe-
There no mean cares admission find,
Love is the business of mankind,
And Honour rules the globe.

But if those gleams fallacious prove
That paint the world so fair;
If Heaven has placed for generous love
No soft asylum there;

If men fair faith, fair fame deride,
Bent on the crooked paths that guide
To Interest's sordid shrine;
Be yours, ye gloomy sons of Woe!
That melancholy truth to know;
The dream of bliss be mine.



THE bandit whom the laws pursue,
The soldier, and the gipsy crew,
Arabs and Tartars ever doom'd to roam-
Whate'er their place of shelter be,

A tent, a cave, or hollow tree,

Thither they hie with joy, and call it Home.

There if a doxy or a wife

Receive the wretch escaped from strife;
If there his tatter'd brood around him cling-
His features catch a brightening smile,
He rests him from his sordid toil,
And in his narrow confines reigns a king.

While thus the poor and wretched find The' asylum for a wounded mind,— Distemper'd men there are, estranged from home, Cold to an angel's kind embrace, Cheerless amid a blooming race, And dead to comforts in a princely dome:

Men in the lap of Fortune nursed, With all her froward humours cursed, And teased by wishes ever on the wing; Who, wandering still through Folly's maze, In search of bliss consume their days, Nor taste her genuine draught at Nature's spring.

Yet such the men who lead the gay,

The pride and patterns of the day,

Whose high prized friendship fools and strangers


Blush, thou! to court their barren fame; Let Home, sweet Home, thy presence claim, And those enjoy thy smiles who love thee most!



TRANQUILLITY! thou better name
Than all the family of Fame!
Thou ne'er wilt leave my riper age
To low intrigue or factious rage:

For oh! dear child of thoughtful Truth,
To thee I gave my early youth,

And left the bark, and bless'd the steadfast shore, Ere yet the tempest rose, and scared me with its


Who late and lingering seeks thy shrine,
On him but seldom, power divine,

Thy spirit rests, Satiety

And Sloth, poor counterfeits of thee,
Mock the tired worldling. Idle Hope
And dire Remembrance interlope

To vex the feverish slumbers of the mind:
The bubble floats before, the spectre stalks behind.

But me thy gentle hand will lead
At morning through the' accustom'd mead;
And in the sultry summer's heat
Will build me up a mossy seat!

And when the gust of Autumn crowds
And breaks the busy moonlight clouds,

Thou best the thought canst raise, the heart



Light as the busy clouds, calm as the gliding



The feeling heart, the searching soul,
To thee I dedicate the whole!
And while within myself I trace
The greatness of some future race,
Aloof with hermit eye I scan

The present works of present man

A wild and dreamlike trade of blood and guile, Too foolish for a tear, too wicked for a smile!



FAINT gleams the evening radiance through the sky,

The sober twilight dimly darkens round; In short quick circles the shrill bat flits by, And the slow vapour curls along the ground.

Now the pleased eye from yon lone cottage sees
On the green mead the smoke long-shadowing
The redbreast on the blossom'd spray [play;
Warbles wild her latest lay,

And sleeps along the dale the silent breeze.
Calm Contemplation, 'tis thy favourite hour!
Come, fill my bosom, tranquillizing power!
Meek Power! I view thee on the calmy shore
When Ocean stills his waves to rest;
Or when, slow moving on, the surges hoar
Meet with deep hollow roar,

And whiten o'er his breast;

For lo! the moon with softer radiance gleams, And lovelier heave the billows in her beams.

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