wrong He drops the rein, and leaves him to his Asserts the rights of his offended Lord, pace. Suppose, unlooked for in a scene so rude, Long hid by interposing hill or wood, Some mansion, neat, and elegantly dressed, By some kind, hospitable heart possessed, And death or restitution is the word: His parent straight inspir'd successive Hope's the top window of that ark, breath; Where all God's Noahs do embark; And though herself was dead, yet ransom'd Hope lets in sky-light, else how dark him from death. C. FRY. FAITH, like a simple, unsuspecting child, Serenely resting on its mother's arm, Reposing every care upon his God, Sleeps on his bosom and expects no harm. Were such a season! Would'st thou not be engulph'd or drown'd, Hope hath a harvest in the spring, |