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(Tho' once of grandeur and of power possest,

And all the treasures of the shining East)

There near th' oppreffor fleeps th' opprefs'd in peace,
And there the pris'ner's cries for ever cease.
Levell'd by death, the victor and the flave
Lie mix'd and undistinguish'd in the grave.
The wicked there no more the just moleft,
And there the weary find eternal reft!

Why spareft thou, O LORD! a life like mine?
While with inceffant prayers for death I pine:
Why is that bleffing given to wealth and pride,
But to the wretch diftrefs'd like me, deny'd?
While o'er my head thy awful terrors brood,
Beset my path, and mingle with my food.
In vain my cries and groans continual rife,
In vain my tears I pour, and wafte my fighs!
While yet I knew the softest hours of ease,
My ill-prefaging thoughts disturb'd my peace;
And now the storm that at a distance lowr'd,
On me has its collected vengeance pour'd.

M

EPITAPH

ON A YOUNG LADY.

ARK how, ere eve, the morning honors fade! What stood in glory, fee in ruins laid! By birth we die :---our fate we draw with breath, And life beginning teems with feeds of death.

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DAVID'S LAMENTATION OVER SAUL

TH

AND JONATHAN.

II SAMUEL I. XIX.

HY glory, Ifrael, and thy beauty mourn!
They're vanifh'd, never, never to return!'
Ah! who in feeble mortals ftrength would truft,
Whofe glory is fo near ally'd to duft?

O tell it not in Gath's triumphant gate,
Nor Ifrael's fhame in Afkelon relate,
Left proud Philiftia fhould infulting cry,
Where's now the boasted Ruler of the sky?

O fatal Gilboa, where my friend was flain,

No dew on thee defcend, no kindly rain!

No corn nor wine thy blafted mountains yield;
For there was loft the chosen warrior's fhield,
The fhield of SAUL! profan'd his facred head,
The monarch blended with the vulgar dead!
How did thy fhafts through battle's dread array,
O JONATHAN, unerring urge their way!
By SAUL'S destroying fword what armies fell,
Let Ammon's fons, and vanquish'd Nahash tell.
O most majestic, all-accomplish'd pair,

Of peace the wonder, and the pride of war,
Lovely in life, in death too near ally'd!

With his bold fire the blooming hero dy❜d!
Mourn, all ye matrons, all ye virgins, mourn;
Your flow'ry wreaths to cyprefs garlands turn;

Your

Your much lov'd king with grateful tears deplore!
Let rich Sidonian robes delight' no more,

For SAUL who gave them, gen'rous SAUL is loft;
Dead are your heroes, perifh'd Ifrael's boaft!

How are the mighty fall'n! their ftrength how vain!
O JONATHAN, O friend untimely slain!
Weak are all words, how fhall I thee commend,
My more than brother, and my more than friend!
My life, my JONATHAN! and must we part?
Ah! who can speak this bitterness of heart?
Sore, fore within me is my foul distress'd;
Thine image bleeds for ever in my breaft,
With fond remembrance, whilft my thoughts o'erflow,
And friendship past survives in present woe:
That friendship which once breath'd celestial fire,
More pure than woman's love and foft defire.
How are the mighty fall'n, their fate deplore!
Thy fword and shield, O Ifrael, are no more!

AN INSCRIPTION,

DESIGNED FOR THE STATUE OF EDWARD THE
SIXTH, IN ST. THOMAS'S HOSPITAL.

N Edward's brow no laurels caft a fhade,
wa

Nor at his feet are warlike spoils display'd; Yet here, fince firft his bounty rais'd the pile, The lame grow active, and the languid smile: See this, ye chiefs, and, ftruck with envy, pine, To kill is brutal, but to fave, divine.

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PSALM CXXXVII. PARAPHRASED.

WHE

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HERE the fair ftreams of fam'd Euphrates And make the vales of Babylonia gay, [ftray, On the green borders of the filver flood, Judea's exil'd mournful children stood: A penfive land, oppreft with grief fevere, For Zion's fate they shed the frequent tear ; Their filent harps, so tuneful late, unftrung, High on the branches of the willows hung; When lo! their enemies demand the ftrains That erft refounded fweet on Judah's plains. How shall these fongs, Jehovah, fovereign king! In this ftrange clime thy captive people fing? Let my right hand forget the note to play, Let my mute tongue forget to tune the lay, If e'er my thought neglectful, faithlefs, roves From thee, O Salem! and thy facred groves: But, mighty Lord! remember thou their feed Who bade thy city mourn, thy people bleed! Shall not ere long proud Babel's turrets fall, And in her streets the noisome reptiles crawl: Her haughty warriors pale and breathless lie, Dash'd on the ftones her helpless infants die; The woes we fuffer be to her repaid, And all her glory funk in everlasting fhade!

JONAH.

JONAH.

A POE M.

BY MR. JOSEPH MITCHELL.

N early times, well known to public fame,

---

First built and peopled by Affyrian bands,
Who spread their conquests o'er the eastern lands.
But, ah! how bafely men dominion use,

And providence's liberal gifts abuse!
What dire effects from eafe and plenty flow!
And to what heights does vice, unpunish'd, grow!
Luft, rapine, blood, idolatry and strife,
(The fure attendants of luxurious life)
Like floods, unbounded, pour'd their forces in,
And NINEVEH was delug'd o'er with fin.
What foreign foes could not by force obtain,
Thro' many a long and hazardous campaign,
Was bafely yielded by themselves in peace,
As they grew more effeminate by ease.
Now, lofing sense of honor and of fame,
They reign in vice, and triumph in their shame;
Like favage brutes ungovern'd, wanton rove,
And act whate'er their fancies moft approve.
Here, adoration to the ftones is paid;
There, guilty lovers in the streets are laid:
Riot and death in every corner reign,
And the whole city turn'd a horrid scene.
R 3

Now,

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