Here gentle toils relieve our woe;
Hark, hark, that piteous figh again.
If breath'd for us thofe heaving fighs,
May Heav'n, kind ftranger, pity thee!
If ftarting tears fuffufe thine eyes,
Thofe tears, alas! we cannot fee.
But ev'ry figh, and ev'ry tear,
And ev'ry boon thy hand has given,
All in full luftre shall appear,
Recorded in the books of Heaven.
VERSES on an African Woman, whofe favourite Boy was kidnapped by the Crew of a Boat: The Sailors, moved by the Diftrefs of the Mother, would have restored the Child; but the Mate, more judicious, chofe to retain him, in hopes that the Distress of the Mother would induce her to become a voluntary Slave rather than part with him.
HENRY, didft thou hear in vain,
The moving tale the captain told?
Go, then, and heap the fordid gain,
And fell thy fellow men for gold!
Yet, when the dingy mother rov'd
With eager ftep, and fought her child,
E'en failors, ftern of heart, were mov'd
With her fad moan and geftures wild.
"Give her her boy, poor fool!"-they cry'd: Why agonize a tender mind?"
"Harpoon'd, harpoon'd!" the mate reply'd: "Slack fail ;-fhe'll not be long behind."
'Twas fo;-fhe kifs'd her children dear, Beckon'd the boat across the wave
Yielded herself (to share the tear
Of her lost boy)-a willing slave!
HOU, dear companion of the wife,
Serene promoter of their joys,
By pleasure without fting,
Thou great prefervative of health,
Thou gem, beyond all pomp of wealth!
To thee I humbly fing.
See, where the rofe adorns the cheek,
Where all the modeft virtues speak
A fecret, peaceful joy ;
No baneful viands load their board,
What Nature fimpleft doth afford
They ufe-but not destroy.
Gouts, gravels, headachs, all attend
On luxury, that woeful fiend,
That bane of human bliss;
But those whofe fumptuous table's fpread With feafon'd meats, wine sparkling red, Too feldom think of this.
A jovial Bacchanalian core,
A flowing bowl, a midnight fplore,
At diftant view may charm,
But fage experience tells the wife
Their falfe allurements to despise,
And fhun their fatal harm.
Mark the infatuated wretch,
Once gayest at the deep debauch,
Whom dire diseases pine,
What keen remorfe muft cut him through
When Temp'rance rises to his view,
All beauteous and divine?
O Temperance! thou heav'n-born maid!
Be thou my goddess and my guide,
My guardian and reward,
Teach me to relish fimple joy,
And from temptations, which deftroy,
Be thou my fhield and guard.
LET mufing Melancholy drop a tear,
And gay fantaftic Humour heave a sigh;
Let no unhallow'd hand approach the bier,
Where low in death his facred reliques lie.
BURNS, bleft with native vigour, ftruck the lyre:
Each heart, assenting, felt the magic found;
To foothe the foul the pleafing notes conspire;
From hill and dale the heav'nly notes rebound.
Alive to joy, while joy was on the wing;
To playful mirth, to humour void of art;
'Twas Nature's felf that taught her bard to fing
The fong of joy pour'd genuine from the heart.
For Genius gone, let Scotia melt in tears;
Her darling fon no more fhall foothe her woes,
No more gay hope excite-difpel her fears,
Or tuneful fing her forrows to repose.
The foul of harmony, the plaintive ftrain,
Fall fweetly pleafing on the ravifh'd ear.
Nor let unmov'd the hardest heart remain :-
In filence drop the foftly-trickling tear.
See where the pledges fweet of mutual love
Are left in pinching penury to pine:
O! if ye hope fweet mercy from above,
Let mercy fweet to gen'rous deeds incline.
A widow's woes, a mother's tears revere,
And helpless babes, their father now no more:
The fight of thefe, alas! belov'd and dear,
His dying breast with bitter anguish tore.
His Jeanie's woes, his helpless babes forlorn,
The profpe&t dire of penury and want,
The infolent contempt, the haughty scorn,
The look difdainful, and the bitter taunt:
Thefe, from th' unfeeling never cease to fall
With all their weight upon the wretched head;
This well he knew:-the thought that heart appall'd
That smil'd in pain, descending to the dead."
O! may his fhade revisit oft with joy
Thefe fcenes which once to rapture rais'd his mind:
To glad his fhade, your friendly aid employ,
To fuccour those he to your care confign'd.
When just about to bid this world adieu—
His laft advice ftill rings upon my ear:
"Thefe dying words, I now impart to you,
"O! might the world with due attention hear.
"In fprightly youth of fyren vice beware:
"Learn from my fate the hapless lot of man; "With caution learn to fhun each gilded fnare, “ O’erlook my faults and all my beauties scan.”
Confign'd to earth, here refts the lifeless clay,
Which once a vital fpark from Heav'n infpir'd.
The lamp of Genius fhone full bright its day,
Then left the world to mourn its light retir'd.
While burns that fplendid orb which lights the fpheres,
While mountain ftreams descend to fwell the main,
While changeful feafons mark the rolling years,
Thy fame, O BURNS! let Scotia ftill retain.
Printed and Sold by S. SIKES & CO. Huddersfield.
TRUCK with religious awe and folemn dread,
I view thefe gloomy manfions of the dead;
Around me, tombs in mixt disorder rife,
And, in mute language, teach me to be wife.
Time was these afhes liv'd; a time must be
When others thus may ftand and look at me.
Here, blended, lie the aged and the young,
The rich and poor, an undiftinguifh'd throng:
Death conquers all, and time's fubduing hand,
Nor tombs nor marble ftatues can withstand.
Mark yonder ashes, in confufion spread!
Compare earth's living tenants with her dead!
How ftriking the refemblance! yet how just!
Once life and foul inform'd this mass of duft:
Around thefe bones, now broken and decay'd,
The ftreams of life in various channels play'd:
Perhaps that fkull, fo horrible to view,
Was fome fair maid's, ye belles, as fair as you;
Thefe hollow fockets two bright orbs contain'd,
Where the loves fported, and in triumph reign'd:
Here glow'd the lips; there, white as parian tone,
The teeth, difpos'd in beauteous order, fhone.
This is life's goal-no farther can we view;
Beyond it, all is wonderful and new:
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