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Lo! in the vale of years beneath

A griefly troop are seen,

The painful family of Death,
More hideous than their queen:
This racks the joints, this fires the veins,
That every labouring finew ftrains,.
Thofe in the deeper vitals rage:

Lo! Poverty, to fill the band,
That numbs the foul with icy hand,
And flow-confuming Age.

To each his fuff'rings: all are men,
Condemn'd alike to groan ;

The tender for another's pain,

Th' unfeeling for his own.

Yet, ah! why should they know their fate,
Since forrow never comes too late,

And happiness too swiftly flies?
Thought would deftroy their paradise.
No more; where ignorance is blifs,
'Tis folly to be wife.

ABSENCE,

A PASTORAL.

BY THE REV. MR. PARSONS,

OW fweet to recal the dear moments of joy!

H 'Tis this, and this only, can Abfence employ;

Can eafe my fond heart, and beguile my foft pain,
Till I fee with delight my dear charmer again.
Ah! who ever knew fuch full transports as I,

While with her the fweet minutes unheeded pafs'd by?

Alas!

Alas! with the fweet recollection I burn;.

Bring back your delights, ye dear moments, return!

Ah, me! what delights in my bofom would rife,
While with eager attention I've hung on her eyes,
And watch'd the kind beams of Compaffion and Love,
While fhe pitied my paffion, and feem'd to approve!
Ah, me! with what raptur'd attention I've hung,
To catch the fweet accents that flow'd from her tongue,
When tenderness bade the dear maiden impart
The pleasing sensations that glow'd in her heart.

O how does my fair-one consume the long day!
Is the charmer quite eafy while I am away!
Indeed, if our thoughts like our hearts fhould agree,
The dear lovely maiden is thinking on me:

Ah! did fhe but think with such fondness as I,

How much would she grieve, and how oft would she figh!
Yet with so much fond love may her bofom ne'er burn,
If fhe fighs as I figh, if the mourns as I mourn.

But why do I wander? why figh thus alone?
Alas! 'tis the lofs of my fair that I moan.
Why thus every hour does my forrow increase?
Alas! it is abfence that ruins my peace.

Why fwells my fad bofom with fear and with grief?
Ah! nought but her prefence can bring me relief,
Why thus down my cheek trickles fast the big tear?
Alas! can I help it -my fair is not here.

Till I nourish'd this paffion, I, all unconcern'd,
Saw Peace my companion wherever I turn'd;
Till now, with my heart all at ease I could reft,
And a figh was a stranger unknown to my breast.
What, then, is this love? and why do I endure
Thefe griefs in my mind, nor endeavour to cure?

When

When thus my fond heart is o'erwhelm'd with despair,
And I know no delight when away from my fair?

Yet, Colin, these pains, spite of all thou haft faid,
By one hour of her prefence are far over-paid;
These forrows from abfence which now you deplore,
Then vanish, are loft, and are thought of no more.
Recal thofe rafh words, and forbear to complain,
Since the next tender meeting rewards all your pain!
Let fweet expectation, then, leffen your care,

Let hope soften abfence, and keep off despair.

Sure, fure, thofe dear pleasures once more will return!
How long in this absence distress'd must I mourn!
How long muft I wish, while my lot I deplore,
That dear angel-face!-could I fee it once more!

That dear angel-voice !-Time, how fwift didft thou feem,
While I liften'd inchanted as love was her theme!

O come those dear hours! and, to soothe my fond pain,
Love again be her theme, and I listen again!

How dull and how flow do the moments retreat!

Time was when they flew, now there's lead on their feet.

Ye loit'rers, be gone; why fo long do ye stay?

Ye fly when I'm with her, ye creep when away.

Ah! Colin, how foolish Time's progrefs to blame,
His paces are equal, his motions the fame;
"Twas the joy of her prefence made time appear fleet,
'Tis the pain of her abfence adds lead to his feet,

THE

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BY MR. COLE.

O thefe lone fhades, where Peace delights to dwell,
May Fortune oft permit me to retreat;

Here bid the world, with all it's cares, farewel,
And leave it's pleasures to the rich and great.

Oft as the fummer's fun fhall chear this scene,
With that mild gleam which points his parting ray,
Here let my foul enjoy each eve ferene,

Here share it's calm, till life's declining day!

No gladfome image then should 'scape my fight,

From these gay flow'rs, which border near my eye, To yon bright cloud, that decks, with richest light, The gilded mantle of the western sky.

With ample gaze, I'd trace that ridge remote,
Where op'ning cliffs disclose the boundless main ;
With earnest ken, from each low hamlet note
The steeple's fummit peeping o'er the plain.

What various works that rural landscape fill,

Where mingling hedge-rows beauteous fields inclofe;

And prudent Culture, with industrious skill,

Her chequer'd scene of crops and fallows fhows!

How

How should I love to mark that riv'let's maze,

Through which it works it's untaught course along; Whilft near it's graffy banks the herd fhall

graze, And blithsome milkmaid chaunt her thoughtless fong?

Still would I note the fhades of length'ning sheep,
As fcatter'd o'er the hill's flant brow they rove;
Still note the day's laft glimm'ring luftre creep
From off the verge of yonder upland grove.

Nor should my leifure feldom wait to view

The flow-wing'd rooks in homeward train fucceed; Nor yet forbear the fwallow to pursue,

With quicker glance, clofe fkimming o'er the mead.

But mostly here fhould I delight t' explore

The bounteous laws of Nature's myftick pow'r ;
Then muse on Him who bleffeth all her ftore,
And give to folemn thoughts the fober hour.

Let Mirth, unenvy'd, laugh with proud difdain,
And deem it spleen one moment thus to waste ;
If fo fhe keep far hence her noisy train,

Nor interrupt the joys fhe cannot taste.

Far fweeter ftreams fhall flow from Wisdom's spring,
Than the receives from Folly's costlieft bowl;
And what delights can her chief dainties bring,
Like those which feaft the heavenly-penfive foul?

Hail, Silence, then! be thou my frequent gueft;
For thou art wont my gratitude to raise
As high as wonder can the theme fuggeft,
Whene'er I meditate my Maker's praife.

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