and indulged in melancholy and meditation.. He had his particular periods of reserve, which generally continued for some time, and from these neither mirth could allure nor pleasure charm him: he then resigned himself wholly to his Muse, nor did she fly the embraces of her enthusiastic adorer. He felt the inspiration; and hard indeed must that heart be, unfeeling the mind, that can remain indifferent to the pathetic beauty of the following stanzas. Perhaps in the breast of my readers a sigh may rise for the unhappy boy, a tear of pity fall to blot from their memory his frailties, who could thus strongly rouse their soul to enjoy the finest feelings of humanity; and while acknowledging the force of genius, they will pity the misfortunes of him who could thus tenderly write his own commemorative verse.

VOL. I.

ELEGIAC STANZAS ON MYSELF.

“To Pleasure's wiles an easy prey,
Beneath this sod a bosom lies;
Yet spare the meek offender's clay,
Nor part with dry averted eyes.

"O stranger! if thy wayward lot
Through Folly's heedless maze has led,
Here nurse the true, the tender thought,
And fling the wild flow'r on his head.

"For he, by this cold hillock clad,
Where tall grass twines the pointed stone,
Each gentlest balm of feeling had,
To sooth all sorrow but his own.

"For he, by tuneful Fancy rear'd,
(Though ever-dumb he sleeps below,)
The stillest sigh of anguish heard,
And gave a tear to ev'ry woe.

"Oh! place his dear harp by his side,

(His harp, alas! his only hoard ;)

The fairy breeze at even tide

Will trembling kiss each weeping chord.

"Oft on yon crested cliff he stood,
When misty twilight stream'd around;
To mark the slowly-heaving flood,
And catch the deep wave's sullen sound.

"Oft when the rosy dawn was seen
'Mid blue to gild the blushing steep,
He trac'd o'er yonder margent green
The curling cloud of fragrance sweep.

"Oft did he pause, the lark to hear,
With speckled wing, the skies explore;
Oft paus'd to see the slow flock near:
But he shall hear and see no more.

"Then, stranger, be his foibles lost;
At such small foibles Virtue smil'd:
Few was their number, large their cost,
For he was Nature's orphan-child.

"The graceful drop of pity spare,
(To him the bright drop once belong'd :)
Well, well his doom deserves thy care;
Much, much he suffer'd, much was wrong'd.

"When taught by life its pangs to know,
Ah! as thou roam'st the checker'd gloom,
Bid the sweet night-bird's numbers flow,
And the last sunbeam light his tomb."

His noble patroness, the countess of Moira, still anxious for his improvement and prosperity, with unceasing care endeavoured to correct the foibles which by this time she well knew sullied his character. Having been informed of the habits which he had contracted and the faults he had committed during his stay with Mr. Austin, she frequently condescended to give him friendly lectures; which unfortunately were soon forgotten, though it appears that at the time he felt

their force.

To the Right Honourable the Countess of Moira.

❝ MADAM,

"I HAVE received your last letter, and am sorry to see that I have failed in every desire of pleasing your ladyship. What is the effect of penitence and gratitude, you mistake for selfishness; and seem determined to misunderstand every

It is a

good sentiment of my heart. miserable situation; and the more grievous to an innocent, at least a repentant, mind. Though I hate the name of Killeigh, yet, to please your ladyship, I shall willingly remain there till Christmas or spring; and till I see you, madam, if that honour shall be allowed me, I will never trouble your ladyship with one letter. I will rely on my kind Creator for comfort, and fly from melancholy as much as I can. With tears of anguish and disappointment I write this; but, alas! my tears of anguish and disappointment are unheeded.

"But when your ladyship speaks of flattery, I am agonized indeed. Why should I flatter? Was flattery required in such a case? In many instances, had I been capable of gross flattery, I should have done better. A lady of your sense can penetrate the flimsy veil of flattery, I am assured: then say with candour, was my little letter flattery? I wrote every thing