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Thy pray'r, thy praise, thy life to vice unknown, In fweet memorial rife before the throne: These charms, fuccefs in our bright region find, And force an angel down, to calm thy mind. 191 For this, commiffion'd, I forfook the sky, Nay, cease to kneel-Thy fellow fervant I. Then know the truth of government divine, And let these scruples be no longer thine.

The maker juftly claims that world he made,
In this the right of providence is laid;
Its facred majefty thro' all depends,

On ufing second means to work his ends:
'Tis thus, withdrawn in ftate from human eye,
The pow'r exerts his attributes on high,
Your actions uses, not controuls your will,
And bids the doubting fons of men be still.

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What ftrange events can strike with more surprize, Than those which lately ftrook thy wond'ring eyes? Yet, taught by these, confess th' almighty just, And where you can't unriddle, learn to trust!

The Great, Vain Man, who far'd on costly food, Whofe life was too luxurious to be good; Who made his iv'ry ftands with goblets fhine, And forc'd his guests to morning draughts of wine, Has, with the Cup, the graceless custom loft, And still he welcomes, but with lefs of cost.

The mean, fufpicious Wretch, whose bolted door Ne'er mov'd in duty to the wand'ring poor; 215

With him I left the cup, to teach his mind
That heav'n can bless, if mortals will be kind:
Conscious of wanting worth, he views the bowl,
And feels compassion touch his grateful foul.
Thus artifts melt the fullen ore of lead,
With heaping coals of fire upon its head;
In the kind warmth the metal learns to glow,
And loose from drofs the filver runs below.

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Long had our Pious Friend in virtue trod, But now the child half wean'd his heart from God; (Child of his age) for him he liv'd in pain, 226 And measur'd back his steps to earth again. To what exceffes had his dotage run? But God, to fave the father, took the fon. To all but thee, in fits he seem'd to go (And 'twas my miniftry to deal the blow). The poor fond parent, humbled in the dust, Now owns in tears the punishment was just.

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But how had all his fortune felt a wrack, Had that falfe Servant fped in fafety back! This night his treasur'd heaps he meant to steal, And what a fund of charity would fail ! Thus Heaven instructs thy mind: This tryal o'er, Depart in peace, resign, and fin no more.

On founding pinions here the youth withdrew, The Sage flood wond'ring as the Seraph flew. 241 Thus look'd Elisha when, to mount on high, His mafter took the chariot of the sky;

The fiery pomp afcending left the view;
The prophet gaz'd, and wifh'd to follow too. 245
The bending Hermit here a pray'r begun,
Lord! as in heav'n, on earth thy will be done:
Then, gladly turning, fought his antient place,
And pafs'd a life of piety and peace.*

A FAIRY TALE.

IN THE ANCIENT ENGLISH STILE.

BY THE SAME.

IN Britain's ifle, and' Arthur's days,

When midnight faeries daunc'd the maze,
Liv'd Edwin of the Green;

Edwin, I wis, a gentle youth,

Endow'd with courage, fenfe and truth, 5 Though badly fhap'd he been.

The fable of this elegant, but furely immoral, poem not the invention of Dr. Parnell, who had it, in all pro bability, from Mores Dialogues. It is a production of the darker ages, and makes the eightyeth chapter of the Gefta Romanorum.

His mountain back mote well be faid,
To measure heighth against his head,
And lift itself above;

Yet, fpite of all that Nature did
To make his uncouth form forbid,
This creature dar'd to love.

He felt the force of Edith's eyes,
Nor wanted hope to gain the prize,

Cou'd ladies look within;

But one Sir Topaz dress'd with art,
And, if a shape could win a heart,

He had a shape to win.

Edwin (if right I read my song)
With flighted paffion pac'd along
All in the moony light;

'Twas near an old enchaunted court,
Where sportive faeries made refort
To revel out the night.

His heart was drear, his hope was cross'd,
'Twas late, 'twas farr, the path was lost
That reach'd the neighbour-town ;
With weary steps he quits the shades,
Resolv'd the darkling dome he treads,

And drops his limbs adown.

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But fcant he lays him on the floor,

When hollow winds remove the door,

A trembling rocks the ground: And (well I ween, to count aright) At once an hundred tapers light

On all the walls around.

Now founding tongues affail his ear,
Now founding feet approachen near,
And now the founds increase:
And from the corner where he lay
He fees a train profusely gay

Come pranckling o'er the place.

But (trust me, gentles!) never yet
Was dight a mafquing half so neat,

Or half fo rich before;

The country lent the sweet perfumes,

The sea the pearl, the sky the plumes,
The town its filken ftore.

Now whilft he gaz'd, a gallant dreft

In flaunting robes above the rest,
With awfull accent cry'd;

What mortal of a wretched mind,
Whofe fighs infect the balmy wind,

Has here prefum'd to hide?

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