Rhyme’s sturdy cripple, fancy’s maze and clue,
Wit’s forge and fire-blast, meaning’s press and screw.”
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Pale Roamer thro’ the Night! thou poor forlorn!
Who in the credulous hour of tendernessBetrayed, then cast thee forth to Want and scorn!The World is pityless; the Chaste one’s pride,Mimic of Virtue, scowls on thy distress;Thy kindred, when they see thee, turn aside,And Vice alone will shelter Wretchedness!O! I am sad to think, that there should beMen, born of woman, who endure to…
Tranquillity! thou better name
Thou ne’er wilt leave my riper ageTo low intrigue, or factious rage;For oh! dear child of thoughtful Truth,To thee I gave my early youth,And left the bark, and blest the steadfast shore,Ere yet the tempest rose and scared me with its roar.Who late and lingering seeks thy shrine,On him but seldom, Power divine,Thy spirit rests!…
Not always should the tear’s ambrosial dew
Not always heaven-breathed tones of suppliance meekBeseem thee, Mercy! Yon dark Scowler view,Who with proud words of dear-loved Freedom came–More blasting than the mildew from the south!And kissed his country with Iscariot mouth;(Ah! foul apostate from his Father’s fame!)Then fixed her on the cross of deep distress,And at safe distance marks the thirsty lancePierce her…
I sigh, fair injured stranger! for thy fate;
‘Mid all the ‘pomp and circumstance’ of state,Shivers in nakedness. Unbidden, startSad recollections of Hope’s garish dream,That shaped a seraph form, and named it Love,Its hues gay-varying, as the orient beamVaries the neck of Cytherea’s dove.To one soft accent of domestic joy,Poor are the shouts that shake the high-arched dome:Those plaudits, that thy public path…
What tho’ first,
To idle passion and unreal woe?Yet serious truth her empire o’er my songHath now asserted : falsehood’s evil broodVice and deceitful pleasure, she at onceExcluded, and my fancy’s careless toilDrew to the better cause! ~AkensideARGUMENT.Introduction. Person of Christ. His prayer on the cross. The process of his doctrines on the mind of the individual. Character…
Where graced with many a classic spoil
I haste to urge the learned toilThat sternly chides my love-lorn song:Ah me! too mindful of the daysIllumed by Passion’s orient rays,When peace, and Cheerfulness, and HealthEnriched me with the best of wealth.Ah fair Delights! that o’er my soulOn Memory’s wing, like shadows fly!Ah Flowers! which Joy from Eden stoleWhile Innocence stood smiling by!But cease,…