Yet die ev’n thus, thus rather perish still, Ye sons of pleasure, by th’ Almighty stricken, Than ever dare (though oft, alas! ye dare) To lift against yourselves the murderous steel, To wrest from God's own hand the sword of Justice, And be your own avengers.--Hold, rash man! Though with anticipating speed thou'st ranged Through every region of delight, nor left One joy to gild the evening of thy days;

Though life seem one uncomfortable void, Guilt at thy heels, before thy face Despair ; Yet gay this scene, and light this load of wo, Compar'd with thy hereafter. Think, O think, And ere thou plung'st into the vast abyss, Pause on the verge awhile, look down and see Thy future mansion-Why, that start of horror ? From thy slack hand why drops th’uplifted steel ? Didst thou not think such vengeance must await The wretch, that with his crimes all fresh about Rushes irreverent, unprepard, uncall’d, [him, Into his Maker's presence, throwing back, With insolent disdain, his choicest gift ?

Live then, while Heaven in pity lends thee life, And think it all too short to wash away, By penitential tears, and deep contrition, The scarlet of thy crimes. So shalt thou find Rest to thy soul, so unappallid shalt meet Death when he comes, not wantonly invite His lingering stroke. Be it thy sole concern With innocence to live, with patience wait Th’appointed hour; too soon that hour will come, Though Nature run her course: but Nature's God, If need require, by thousand various ways, Without thy aid, can shorten that short span,

And quench the lamp of life.-0 when he comes, Rous'd by the cry of wickedness extreme,

To Heaven ascending from some guilty land, Now ripe for vengeance; when he comes array'd In all the terrors of Almighty wrath ; Forth from his bosom plucks his lingering arm, And on the miscreant pours destruction down! Who can abide his coming? Who can bear His whole displeasure ? In no common form Death then appears, but, starting into size Enormous, measures with gigantic stride [round The astonish'd earth, and from his looks throws Unutterable horror and dismay. All Nature lends her aid. Each element Arms in his cause. Ope fly the doors of Heaven, The fountains of the deep their barriers break, Above, below, the rival torrents pour, And drown creation, or in floods of fire Descends a livid cataract, and consumes [peace An impious race. Sometimes, when all seems Wakes the grim Whirlwind, and with rude embrace Sweeps nations to their graves, or in the deep Whelms the proud wooden world; full manya youth Floats on his watery bier, or lies umwept On some sad desert shore.--At dead of night, In sullen silence stalks forth Pestilence: Contagion close behind taints all her steps With poisonous dew ; no smiting hand is seen, No sound is heard : but soon her secret path Is mark'd with desolation ; heaps on heaps Promiscuous drop ; no friend, no refuge near ; All, all is false and treacherous around, All that they touch, or taste, or breathe, is Death.

But ah! what means that ruinous roar? Why fail

These tottering feet?-Earth to its centre feels
The Godhead's power, and, trembling at his touch
Through all its pillars, and in every pore,
Hurls to the ground, with one convulsive heave,
Precipitating domes, and towns, and towers,
The work of ages. Crush'd beneath the weight
Of general devastation, millions find '
One common grave : not ev'n a widow left
To wail her sons : the house that should protect
Entombs its master, and the faithless plain,
If there he flies for help, with sudden yawn
Starts from beneath him.-Shield me, gracious

Heaven!
O snatch me from destruction! If this globe,
This solid globe, which thine own hand hath made
So firm and sure, if this my steps betray;
If my own mother-earth, from whence I sprung,
Rise up with rage unnatural to devour
Her wretched offspring, whither shall I fly?
Where look for succour? Where, but up to Thee,
Almighty Father ! Save, O save thy suppliant
From horrors such as these !At thy good time
Let Death approach ; I reck not_let him come
In genuine form, not with this vengeance arm'd,
Too much for man to bear. O rather lend
Thy kindly aid to mitigate his stroke,
And at that hour when all aghast I stand
(A trembling candidate for thy compassion)
On this world's brink, and look into the next;
When my soul, starting from the dark unknown,
Casts back a wishful look, and fondly clings
To her frail prop, unwilling to be wrench'd
From this fair scene, from all her custom'd joys,
And all the lovely relatives of life,

Then shed thy comforts o'er me; then put on
The gentlest of thy looks. Let no dark crimes,
In all their hideous forms then starting up,
Plant themselves round my couch in grim array,
And stab my bleeding heart with two-edg'd torture,
Sense of past guilt, and dread of future wo.
Far be the ghastly crew; and in their stead
Let cheerful Memory from her purest cells
Lead forth a goodly train of virtues fair,
Cherish'd in earliest youth, now paying back
With tenfold usury the pious care,
And pouring o'er my wounds the heavenly balm
Of conscious innocence.—But chiefly thou,
Whom soft-ey'd Pity once led down from Heaven
To bleed for man, to teach him how to live,
And, oh! still harder lesson ! how to die;
Disdain not thou to smooth the restless bed
Of sickness and of pain.-Forgive the tear
That feeble nature drops, calm all her fears,
Wake all her hopes, and animate her faith,
Till my rapt soul, anticipating Heaven,
Bursts from the thraldom of encumbering clay,
And on the wing of ecstasy upborne,
Springs into Liberty, and Light, and Life!

Porteus.

ON SEEING THE FIGURE OF DEATH IN A DREAM AVERT, proud Death, thy lifted spear, Nor vaunt the King of Terrors here; Shorn of thy first envenom'd sting, Vain are all terrors thou canst bring : ,

Smite, monster,smite, nor spare thy deepest wound; From Jesse's root our sov’reign balm is found.

When o'er the world's wide misery, Coeval darkness sway'd with thee, Creation shrunk beneath thy frown, And horror mark'd thy ebon crown. Those downcast kingdoms, whelm'd in ruin lie, Smote by the beaming Day-spring from on high

Though, clad in vesture of affright,
Thou prowl'st beneath the pall of night,
Thy famish'd form doth quash alarm:
Unpoise that daring strengthless arm;
Bow thy diminish'd head; stern tyrant, flee;
For thou art swallow'd up in victory.

Sweet Mercy hath her triumph shown,
Thy darken'd host of fear o'erthrown:
Now to behold thee, vanquish'd slave,

No power's left beyond the grave;
We greet thee kind !-- 0 wondrous friendship this!
Welcome, good herald !--to announce our bliss.

Dr. Harrington

MEDITATION ON DEATH.
ENOUGH, enough, my soul, of worldly noise,

Of airy pomps, and fleeting joys;
What doth this busy world provide at best

But brittle goods, that break like glass,
But poison'd sweets, a troubled feast, (pass ?
And pleasures like the winds, that in a moment