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Behold, my friends! a father's tender care,
In all the bleffings which in life ye fhare;
His goodness view, in all you daily prove,
And own your mercies are the gift of love.

Should adverse providence your lives attend,
And every sweet, with fome kind bitter blend:
With grateful hand, the friendly cup receive,
And drink the potion heaven reserv❜d to give.

If poverty or want await you here,

The heavy stroke with refignation bear;
The God who sent them rules their potent fway,
And by his prefence smiles their frowns away.

The various ills in life, you're born to share,
Are bounteous bleffings of paternal care;
This each fhall own, and both with joy confefs,
Nor even wish to find your trials less.

Like humble penfioners devoted stand,
Imploring mercies from your father's hand;
With grateful hearts receive his kind supplies,
Nor with imparted, what his love denies.

If thus refolv'd, purfue your deftin'd way,
Nor ftop to liften what the world might say;
Let nobler thoughts your conscious minds employ,
And crown your interval of life with joy.


But as ye journey on, expect to find,
Those troubles incident to human kind;
They fondly hope for happiness in vain,
Who feek to find it without loss or pain.

In mazy paths must tread your wand'ring feet,
Where ease with pain, where joy with forrow meet;
These, loving pilgrims, will alarm your fears,
And prove a trial thro' life's vale of tears.

If love and harmony you would preferve,
Avoid by careful steps, that fiend RESERVE;
Let both alike, with confcious pleasure fee,
A gen'rous mind, from false deception free.

Let both in each, a meet companion find,
Indulgent, tender, affable, and kind;
Devoid of art, let each attempt to prove,
A greater warmth of undiffembled love.

In joy, in forrow, or in pain or ease,
Let each alike be ftudious how to please;
In every trial take an equal fhare,
Each bear a part, and ftrive to leffen care.

Let concord, harmony, and tranquil joy,
Each future moment of your lives employ;
Thus fhall you both fubftantial blifs fecure,
And heaven indulgent, choicest bleffings pour.

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DECREPID AGE fhall then with pleasure view,
His fnowy honors, crown'd with joys anew;
With grateful heart furvey the trials past,
And hail the moment that shall bring the last.

Diviner blifs shall each fond breast inspire,
And fill the foul with pure feraphic fire;
With holy rapture make your latter days
Refound the language of inceffant praise.

Your SETTING SUN, when life's short day is o'er,
Shall rife unclouded, and go down no more;
His genial rays fhall every care deftroy,
And ftamp eternal, all your future joy.

Deign, happy pair, t' accept the feeble lay,
The pleafing theme of this aufpicious day;
'Tis friendship speaks-if more she can declare,
Be that the fubject of devoted pray'r.




HE niggard mifer, 'midst his hoarded store, Grows richer daily, yet grows daily poor; With pining want confumes the gift of health, And damns his foul for fordid heaps of wealth.





TERN winter hence with all his train removes; And chearful skies and limpid ftreams are feen; Thick-fprouting foliage decorates the groves; Reviving herbage robes the fields in green.

Yet lovelier scenes fhall crown th' advancing year,
When blooming spring's full bounty is display'd;
The smile of beauty every vale shall wear;
The voice of fong enliven every fhade.

O fancy, paint not coming days too fair!
Oft for the prospects fprightly MAY should yield,
Rain-pouring clouds have darken'd all the air,
Or fnows untimely whiten'd o'er the field:

But fhould kind spring her wonted bounty show'r,
The fmile of beauty and the voice of song;
If gloomy thought the human mind o'erpow'r,
Ev'n vernal hours glide unenjoy'd along.

*The pamphlet from whence I have taken this and the following Elegy, is fold by Buckland in Paternofter Row. The late ingenious Dr. Young, writing to a friend of mine fays, "I have read Mr. Scott's four Elegies, and fhall do myfelf the credit to recommend them to every person of my acquaintance."

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I fhun the scenes where madd'ning paffion raves,
Where pride and folly high dominion hold,
And unrelenting avarice drives, her flaves
O'er proftrate virtue in pursuit of gold:

The graffy lane, the wood-furrounded field,
The rude ftone fence with fragrant wall-flowers gay,
The clay-built cot, to me more pleasure yield
Than all the pomp imperial domes display:

And yet ev'n here amid these fecret fhades,
Thefe fimple scenes of unreprov'd delight,
Affliction's iron hand my breaft invades,
And death's dread dart is ever in my fight.

While genial funs to genial fhow'rs fucceed;
(The air all mildness, and the earth all bloom;)
While herds and flocks range sportive o'er the mead,
Crop the sweet herb, and fnuff the rich perfume;

O why alone to hapless man deny'd
To tafte the bliss inferior beings boaft?
O why this fate that fear and pain divide
His few fhort hours on earth's delightful coast?

Ah ceafe-no more of providence complain!
'Tis fenfe of guilt that wakes the mind to woe,
Gives force to fear, adds energy to pain,
And palls each joy by heaven indulg❜d below:


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