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Till all the Dæmon makes his full descent
In one abundant show'r of Cent. per Cent.
Sinks deep within him, and possesses whole,
Then dubs Director, and secures his soul.

Behold Sir Balaam now a man of spirit,
Ascribes his gettings to his parts and merit;
What late he called a Blessing, now was Wit,
And God's good Providence, a lucky Hit.
Things change their titles, as our manners turn:
His Compting-house employ'd the Sunday morn ::
Seldom at church ('twas such a busy life)
But duly sent his family and wife.

There (so the Devil ordain'd) one Christmas tide
My good old lady catch'd a cold and dy'd.

A nymph of Quality admires our Knight,
He marries, bows at court, and grows polite :
Leaves the dull Cits, and joins (to please the Fair)
The well-bred cuckolds in St. Jame's air:
In Britain's Senate he a seat obtains,
And one more pensioner St. Stephen gains.
My Lady falls to play; so bad her chance,
He must repair it ; takes a bribe from France;
The house impeach him; Coningsby harrangues
The Court forsake him, and Sir Balaam hangs.
Wife, Son, and Daughter, Satan! are thy own
His wealth, yet dearer, forfeit to the Crown:
The Devil and the King divide the prize,
And sad Sir Balaam curses-God and dies.

POPE.

CHAP. XV.

EDWARD AND EMMA:

FAR in the windings of a vale,
Fast by a sheltering wood,

The safe retreat of health and peace,
A humble cottage stood.

There beauteous EMMA flourish'd fair
Beneath a mother's eye,

Whose only wish on earth was now
To see her blest and die.

The softest blush that nature spreads,.
Gave colour to her cheek;

Such orient colour smiles thro' heav'n
When May's sweet mornings break..

Nor let the pride of great ones scorn
The charmers of the plain;

That sun which bids their diamond blaze,..
To deck our lily deigns.

Long had she fir'd each youth with Love,.
Each maiden with despair;

And tho' by all a wonder own'd,
Yet knew not she was fair;

Till EDWIN came, the pride of swains,
A soul that knew no art,

And from whose eyes serenely mild,
Shone forth the feeling heart.

A mutual flame was quickly caught,
Was quickly too revealed;

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For neither bosom lodg'd a wish
Which virtue keeps conceal'd,

What happy hours of heart-felt bliss.
Did love on both bestow !
But bliss too mighty long to last,
Where fortune proves a foe.

His sister, who like envy form'd,
Like her in mischief joy'd

To work them harm, with wicked skill
Each darker art employ'd.

The father too, a sordid man,
Who love nor pity knew,
Was all unfeeling as the rock

From whence his riches grew.

Long had he seen their mutual flame,
And seen it long unmoved;
Then with a father's frown at last,
He sternly disapprov'd..

In EDWIN's gentle heart a war
Of different passions strove ;
His heart which durst not disobey,
Yet could not cease to love.

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Deny'd her sight, he oft behind

The spreading hawthorn crept, To snatch a glance, to mark the spot Where EMMA walk'd and wept.

Oft too in Stanemore's wintry waste,
Beneath the moonlight shade,
In sighs to pour his soften'd soul,
The midnight mourner stray'd,

His cheeks, where love with beauty glow'd,

A deadly pale o'ercast ;

So fades the fresh rose in its prime,

Before the northern blast.

The parents now, with late remorse,
Hung o'er his dying bed,

And weary'd Heaven with fruitless pray'rs,
And fruitless sorrows shed.

'Tis past he cry'd but if your souls
Sweet mercy yet can move,
Let these dim eyes once more behold
What they must ever love.

She came, his cold hand softly touch'd,.
And bath'd with many a tear;
First falling o'er the primrose pale
So morning dews appear.

But oh! his sister's jealous care

(A cruel sister she!)

Forbade what EMMA came to say,

My EDWIN, live for me.

Now homeward as she hopeless went,

The church-yard path along,

The blast blew cold, the dark owl scream'd
Her lover's fun’ral song.

Amid the falling gloom of night,
Her startling fancy found

In ev'ry bush his hov'ring shade,
His groan in ev'ry sound.

Alone appall'd thus had she pass'd
The visionary vale,

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When lo! the death-bell smote her ear,
Sad sounding in the gale.

Just then she reach'd with trembling steps,
Her aged mother's door:
He's gone she cried, and I must see
That angel face no more!

I feel, I feel this breaking heart
Beat high against my side:

From her white arm down sunk her head,

She shiver'd, sigh'd, and died..

MALLET...

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CHAP. XVI.

CELADON AND AMELIA.

'TIS listening fear and dumb amazement all,
When to the startled tear the sudden glance
Appears far south, eruptive thro' the cloud;
And following slower, in explosion vast,
The thunder raises his tremendous voice.
At first heard solemn o'er the verge of heaven,
The tempest growls; but as it nearer comes,
And rolls its awful burden on the wind,
The lightnings flash, a larger curve, and more
The noise astounds: till over head a sheet
Of livid flame discloses wide; then shuts,
And opens wider; shuts and opens stfil
Expansive, wrapping æther in a blaze.
Follows the loosen'd aggravated roar,
Enlarging, deep'ning, mangling; peal on peal
Crush'd horrible, convulsing heaven and earth.

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Guilt hears appall'd, with deeply troubled thought:

And yet not always on the guilty head

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