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And his Amelia were a matchless pair ;
They lov'd : But such their guileless passion was,
So pafs’d their life, a clear united stream,
With kind regard. O'er thee the secret shaft
“ Which thunders terror thro' the guilty heart, “ With tongues of seraphs whispers peace to thine. “ 'Tis fafety to be near thee, sure, and thus “ To clasp 'perfection !"--From his void embrace, . (Mysterious heaven !) that moment, to the ground, A blacken'd corse, was struck the beauteous maid. But who can paint the lover, as he stood, Pierc'd by severe amazement, hating life,'.' Speechless, and fix'd in all the death of woe ! So, faint resemblance ! on the marble tomb, The well-diffembled mourner stooping stands, For ever Glent, and for ever fad.
With a Present.
ET not the hand of Amity be nice !
If Friendship stamp it with her facred name.
The little rose that laughs upon its stem,
One of the sweets with which the gardens teem, In value foars above an eastern gem,
If tender'd as the token of esteem.
Such as your merits might demand-their due ! Then should the golden tribute of your friend Rival the treasures of the rich Peru.
From the Merchant of Venice,
It droppeth, as the gentle rain from heaven
The Man of Ross.
Pleas'a Vaga echoes through her winding bounds, i.
Whose causeway parts the vale with shady rows ?
Thrice happy man! enabled to pursue
Of debts and taxes, wife and children clear, This man poffess'd-five hundred pounds a year. Blush, Grandeur, blush! proud Courts, withdraw your
blaze! Ye little Stars, hide your diminish'd rays !
And what! no monument, inscription, stone! His race, his form, his name almost unknown !
Who builds a church to God, and not to Fame, Will never mark the marble with his name: Go, search it there, where to be born and die, Of rich and poor, makes all the history ; Enough that virtue filld the space between ; Prov'd, by the ends of being, to have been. POPE. ETIRE ;
On the Being of a God.
The world shut out ; -Thy thoughts call home; Imagination's airy wing repress ;Lock up thy fenfes ;-Let no passion ftir ;Wake all to Reason-Let her reign alone; Then, in thy foul's deep filence, and the depth Of Nature's filence, midnight, thus enquire, As I have done.
What am I? and from whence ?-I nothing know, But that I am; and, since I am, conclude Something eternal, had there e'er been nought, Nought still had been: Eternal there must be But what eternal ? - Why not human race? And Adam's ancestors without an end ?That's hard to be conceiv'd; fince every link Of that long-chain'd succession is so frail ; Can ev'ry part depend, and not the whole ? Yet grant it true; new difficulties rise; I'm still quite out at fea; nor fęe the shore. Whence earth, and these bright orbs ?-Eternal too? Grant matter was eternal; still these orbs Would want some other father :-Much design Is seen in all their motions, all their makes; Design implies intelligence, and art: That can't be from themselves or man; that art Man scarce can comprehend, could man beftow? And nothing greater, yet allow'd, than man.Who'motion, foreign to the smallest grain, Shot thro’ vast maries of enormous weight: 7.1 Who bid brute matter's reftive lump aflume Such various forms, and gave it wings to fly? Has matter innate motion? Then each atom, Afferting its indisputable right To dance, would form an univerfe of dust : Has matter none? Then whence these glorious forms, And boundless flights, from shapeless and repos'd ?