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AIR Charity! 'tis thine to wipe away,
'Tis thine the debt of Sympathy to pay,
And whifper comfort in Affliction's ear! From Heav'n's high portals come, thou peerless maid !
Borne on the radiant wings of beaming light: Be wide thy olive branch of peace display'd,
And stand thyself confeft to mortal sight! Teach hearts humane tolheave the tender sigh
For others ills, adopted as their own, Till ev'ry scalded sluice of grief be dry,
And gen’ral merriment their labours crown! Where fell Oppression clanks the galling chain,
And shackled captives writhe, in dismal caves; Thine be the task to soothe, as they complain,
And to emancipate the hapless Saves ! Where haggard Poverty reclines on straw
Its meagre limbs, by aching rheums oppress'd; Vouchsafe to mitigate the weight of woe !
The hungry feed, and give the weary rest ! Where pale complexion'a Melancholy reigns,
And Beauty's roses droop their heads and die ; There image prospects bright, fair, flow'ry plains,
Gay, gilded scenes, and an indulgent sky! Where Pain acute, in agonizing throes,
Roars diffonant, and shrieks in discord dire ; Tread softly there! yet kindly interpose,
And stedfast faith and patient hope inspire ! Where sinks the suf’rer, at his latest breath,
While dread, disrupting, doleful pangs dismay, Thy presence lend; dispel the gloom of death, And point the paffage to eternal day!
Nor fix'd, alone, to one dark chequer'd scene,
Move cheerily, where harmlefs pleafures flow; And frown not, with a stern and stoic mien,
At gleams of bliss the kinder Fates, bestow! Where Temprance bland her wholefome viands spreads,
Disdain not thou the fimples that abound; And where light Mirth to fairy Frolic leads,
Be not the laft to wind the wanton round!
And youthful Joy holds open jubilee ;
And swell the choral lay with feftal glee !
And fondly, frisk to Folly's frenzy'd found; Picture deep danger there, in frightful view !
Bid serpents hils, and scorpions bite the ground ! To me thy best and foftest influence deign !
True tenderness, and feelings all refin'd! The heart be mine, to thare another's pain,
And wide expand to all the human kind! Spent be my life my fellow men to bless,
With meek-eyd Pity for my inmate dear! Mine the sweet toil, to counteract distress,
And some lone widow's fickly heart to cheet! To falve the foul, where keenest mis'ry dwells,
Gangren'd by Cruelty's envenom'd dart! To visit Want, in dark and dreary cells,
And wilh'd relief, if possible, impart ! Then, at the perio. 1 of my earthly woes,
May guardian angels tend my dying bed ! Some faithful friend my eye-lids gently clofe, Some weeping wretch the tear unbidden thed!
Ode to Sleep.
Round me Lethean poppies shed ;
Be kindly near thy suppliant's bed!
And hush to rest corroding Care :
And health's gay bloom impair.
The easy wish'd for boon bestow; And be not thou the faithless friend,
That studious flies from fights of woe!
Yet more than half awake remain :
The poet and his pain !
And prompt to wind in pleafure's maze, Till fated appetite's no more,
And loathing comes a thousand ways; The reas'ning brate, with follies fir'd, When to the couch of down retir'd,
His restless hours may curse and weep! But Temprance, with uncloudeď mien, The paffions calm, and foul serene,
Be bleft with kindlieft Sleep!
Draws close his curtains, lean and gaunt,
Let wailing widows shriek aloud,
Invoking curses on his head !
And shake the villain's bed!
Let wild Ambition's prideful creft
The troop of vengeful furies know; Rooting and rankling in his breast,
For ever working keenest woe! Fine airy nothings, gewgaws, toys! Be all his unsubstantial joys,
Light built upon Delusion's base!
Pervading nights and days!
That fated millions dooms to bleed,
For ev'ry vile, atrocious deed! The heaving bosom's boding fears, The eye he gives to scalding tears,
And vassals, funk in mis'ry deep, May well demand, that such a fiend From Jove's red bolt be never screen'd,
Nor know the sweets of Sleep !: But oh! to those, in life's low yale,
Who humbly spend the harmless day, Be comfort fent in ev'ry gale,
And let young flow'rets mark the way! Where chaste affection's lambent flame, And social duties, have their claim,
Ye guardian angels, deign to smile ! For such, ye clouds, drop plenty down! Let calm content their labours crown,
And Sleep repay their toil!
'IS listning fear, and dumb amazement all:
Appears far fouth, eruptive through the cloud)
Guilt hears appalld, with deeply troubl’d thought, And yet not always on the guilty head
:SW 1.8 i Descends the fated Aath. Young Celadon !!!