Sound imitating reluctance.

For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey,

This pleafing anxious being e'er refign'd; Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, Nor caft one longing, ling'ring look behind.

SECTION VI.

PARAGRAPHS OF GREATER LENGTH.

Connubial affection.

THE love that cheers life's latest stage,
Proof against fickness and old age,
Preferv'd by virtue from declenfion,
Becomes not weary of attention :
But lives, when that exterior grace,
Which first infpir'd the flame, decays.
'Tis gentle, delicate, and kind,
To faults compaffionate, or blind;
And will with fympathy endure
Thofe evils it would gladly cure.
But angry, coarfe, and harfh expreffion,
Shows love to be a mere profeffion;
Proves that the heart is none of his,
Or foon expels him if it is.

Swarms of flying infects. Thick in yon stream of light, a thousand ways, Upward and downward, thwarting and convolv'd The quiv'ring nations fport; till, tempeft wing'd, Fierce winter fweeps them from the face of day. Ev'n fo, luxurious men, unheeding, pafs An idle fummer life, in fortune's fhine, A feafon's glitter! Thus they flutter on, From toy to toy, from vanity to vice; Till, blown away by death, oblivion comes Behind, and ftrikes them from the book of life. Beneficence its own reward.

My fortune (for I'll mention all,

And more than you dare tell) is finall ;
Yet ev'ry friend partakes my store,
And want goes fmiling from my door.
Will forty fhillings warm the breast
Of worth or industry distress'd?

S

This fum I cheerfully impart ;

'Tis fourfcore pleafures to my heart:
And you may make, by means like thefe,
Five talents ten, whene'er you please.
'Tis true, my little purfe grows light;
But then I fleep fo fweet at night!
This grand fpecific will prevail,
When all the doctor's opiates fail:

Virtue the best treasure.

Virtue, the ftrength and beauty of the foul,
Is the best gift of Heaven: a happiness,
That even above the smiles and frowns of fate,
Exalts great nature's favourites: a wealth
That ne'er encumbers; nor to bafer hands
Can be transferr'd. It is the only good
Man juftly boafts of, or can call his own.
Riches are oft by guilt and baseness earn'd.
But for one end, one much neglected uie,
Are riches worth our care; (for nature's wants
Are few, and without opulence supplied;
This noble end is to produce the foul;
To fhow the virtues in their faireft light;
And make humanity the minifter

Of bounteous Providence.

Contemplation.

As yet 'tis midnight deep. The weary clouds,
Slow meeting, mingle into folid gloom.
Now, while the drowfy world lies loft in fleep,
Let me affociate with the ferious night,
And contemplation her fedate compeer;
Let me shake off th' intrufive cares of day,
And lay the meddling fenfes all aside.

Where now, ye lying vanities of life!
Ye ever tempting, ever cheating train !
Where are you now? and what is your amount ?
Vexation, disappointment, and remorfe.

Sad, fick'ning thought! And yet deluded man,
A fcene of crude disjointed vifions paft,
And broken flumbers, rifes ftill refolv'd,
With new flush'd hopes, to run the giddy round.

Pleasures of Piety.

A Deity believ'd, is joy begun ;
A Deity ador'd, is joy advanc'd;
A Deity belov'd, is joy matur'd.

Each branch of piety delight infpires:

Faith builds a bridge from this world to the next,
O'er death's dark gulf, and all its horror hides;
Praise, the sweet exhalation of our joy,
That joy exalts, and makes it fweeter ftill;
Pray'r ardent opens heav'n, lets down a stream
Of glory, on the confecrated hour
Of man in audience with the Deity.

CHAP. II.

NARRATIVE PIECES.

SECTION 1.

The Bears and the Bees.

As two young bears in wanton mood,

Forth iffuing from a neighbouring wood,
Came where th' induftrious bees had ftor'd,
In artful cells, their lufcious hoard;
O'erjoy d they feiz'd, with eager haste,
Luxurious on the rich repast.

Alarm'd at this, the little crew

About their ears vindictive flew
The beafts, unable to fuftain

Th' unequal combat, quit the plain;
Half blind with rage, and mad with pain,
Their native shelter they regain;
Their fit, and now, discreeter grown,
Too late their rashness they bemoan;
And this by dear experience gain,
That pleasure's ever bought with pain,
So when the giided baits of vice
Are plac'd before our longing eyes,
With greedy hafte we fnatch our fill,
And fwallow down the latent ill;
But when experience opes our eyes,
Away the fancy'd pleafure flies.

The Nightingale and the Glow-worm.

A NIGHTINGALE, that all day long
Had cheer'd the village with his fong,
Nor yet at eve his note fufpended,
Nor yet when eventide was ended,
Began to feel, as well he might,
The keen demands of appetite;
When, looking eagerly around,
He fpied far off, upon the ground,
A fomething shining in the dark,
And knew the glow-worm by his fpark.
So, ftooping down from hawthorn top,
He thought to put him in his crop.
The worm, aware of his intent,
Harangu'd him thus, right eloquent ;
"Did you admire my lamp," quoth he,
"As much as I your minstrelfy,
You would abhor to do me wrong,
As much as I to fpoil your fong;
For 'twas the felf fame power divine
Taught you to fing, and me to fhine;
That you with mufic, I with light,
Might beautify and cheer the night,'
The fongfter heard his fhort oration,
And, warbling out his approbation,
Releas'd him, as my story tells,
And found a fupper fomewhere else.
Hence, jarring fectaries may learn
Their real int'reft to difcern;

That brother, fhould not war with brother,
And worry and devour each other:

But fing and shine by fweet confent,

Till life's poor tranfient night is fpent;
Refpecting, in each other's cafe,

The gifts of nature and of grace,

Thofe Chriftians beft deferve the name, Who ftudiously make peace their aim;

MERRICK.

Peace, both the duty and the prize

Of him that creeps, and him that flies

SECTION III.

The Trials of Virtue.

PLAC'D on the verge of youth, my mind
Life's op'ning fcene survey'd ;

I view'd its ills of various kind,
Afflicted and afraid.

But chief my fear the dangers mov'd,
That virtue's path enclose :
My heart the wife purfuit approv'd;
But O, what toils oppofe !

For fee, ah fee! while yet her ways
With doubtful step I tread,

A hoftile world its terrors raise,
Its fnares delufive spread.

O how fhall I with heart prepar'd
Thofe terrors learn to meet ?
How, from the thousand snares to guard
My unexperienc'd feet?

As thus I mus'd, oppreffive fleep
Soft o'er my temples drew
Oblivion's veil,-The wat'ry deep,
An object strange and new.

Before me rofe: on the wide fhore
Obfervant as I ftood,

The gathering ftorms around me roar,
And heave the boiling flood.

Near and more near the billows rife

Ev'n now my steps they lave;

And death to my affrighted eyes
Approach'd in every wave.
What hope, or whither to retreat!
Each nerve at once unftrung ;
Chill fear had fetter'd faft my feet,

And chain'd my fpeechlefs tongue.

I felt my heart within me die ;
When fudden to mine car

COWPER,