jeo5.] 



( ^35 ) 



ORIGINAL POETRY. 



A DIRGE. 

 QPEED on the Night-wind's wing, my 

 fighs, 

 While bends my head to earth ; 

 Co, feek the grave v/here CuRniE lies, 

 The grave of parted worth ! 



The piercing, rapid, ardent, mind. 



To ufeful fcience bent ; 

 Th' expanfive loul, to human kind 



With free devotion lent ; 

 Ambition high of noble fame. 



From pride from envy clear. 

 That burnt, a bright benignant flame^ 



His onward courfe to cheer j 

 The beaming eye that lurk'd below 



The furrow'd brow of thought j 

 The large difcourfe of lucid flow 



With bland pcrfuafion fraught ; 



The helping hand, the watchful eye 



Awake to ev'ry call ; 

 The heartfelt tone of fympathy, 



" That dearer was than all :" 



Thefe, tbefe, grim Death ' thy hafty prey. 



To yon cold tomb are borne, 

 And Mem'ry itiU from day to day 



Muft linger there to mourn. 

 Speed on the Nisht- wind's wing, my Sighs, 



While bends my head to eaith; 

 Go, feek the grave where Currie lies. 



The grave of parted worth ! 



L. A. 



ADDRESSED TO A BRANCH OF THE 8IVER 



AVON. 



AH! happy ftream, that glides away 



Through vales romantic, wild and gay. 

 Yet fcarcely rippling heard to ftray, 



A calm unruffled tide ; 

 Whofe placid current, deep and clear, 

 Reflefls the pencil'd landfcape near. 

 And murmurs oji the pilgrim's ear, 



Who wandeis by i» fide j 

 Till loft in lowly ftiades unfeen. 

 It ^uits the mild Arcadian fcene. 

 And hides in tangl'd thickets green 



It-3 many winding way. 

 Such is tlie haplefs m.iidcii's lot. 

 Who penfive lovee. by all forgot. 

 To feek fonie lone fequeftet'd fpot. 



Or ivy'd cloifter grey. 



Ther^ foon the fufferer finks to reft, 

 No more with eutbly carts oppreft, 

 And o'er th<ic once lov'd heaving breall 



The quivering aiders wave. 

 Vet Cynthia, emprefs of tlie night, 

 Dcftending oft, with dewy light, 

 la fijtiy Zk>De and circlet bright, 



bhaU blcU the Vtftal'i grave. 

 M. 



THE YEAR'S LAST DAY. 



"IX^'ESTWARD, with declining motion. 



Sinks the fun, the king of day. 

 Early, from the eaftern ocean, 

 To emerge with golden ray. 



Now we view no Flora clofing 



In the du/k her deeping train. 

 Or the dawn of morn difclofing 



All the beauties of her reign. 



Tho' Winter fpurn her lilies, rofes. 



Yet Lucilia, Nature's child, 

 •Mid the ftorms of night repofes, » 



Like the fnow-drop in the wild. 



Vigil. 



BE HOROLOGIO PULVEREO. 



pERSPICUUS vitro pulvis qui dividit horas, 

 Dum vagus anguftum (spc recurrit iter, 

 Olim erat Alcippus, qui Gallx ut vidit oceU 

 los, 

 Arfit, et eft fubito faftus ab igne clnis. 

 Irrequiete cinis ! miferos teftabere amanteS, 

 Moie tuo, nulla poffe quiete frui. 



IMITATED. 



THE fand, that ceafelefs in the cryftal pour* 

 Its narrow ftream, and marks the fleeting 



hours, 

 Was young Nicander once, nor fame diftruftj 

 By Clara's fparkling eyes confumd to duft; 

 Which, never now at reft, informs mankind. 

 That love is deftin'd norepofe to find. 



£. Harwood. 



For the Monthly Magaccint. 

 W.T'HY is the rofe, whofe fweets regal'J 

 ^^ the fenfe, 



When blooming on his moffy native tree. 

 Far to a ftranger's bread tranl'planted thence. 

 No more an obje£t of delight to me ? 



Why is the Nymph, whom once, with fon4 

 defire 



I cherifli'd as the darling of my heart. 

 An alien — from whole fight I now retire. 



As ihuns the wary bird the fowler's art? 



She charms another with her winning grace. 



With fecret glance lights up his longing 



eye ; 



And bluflies when fhe marks his fmiling face. 



Her looks, hcrfmilts, her blufhes tell m« 



why 1 



Thus, when a child, I thought the mcon 

 was mine— 

 (^ueeo of the blue and Aarry realms of 

 night ! 

 But lo ! her heav'nly beauties only fhine, 

 £AiUiieui'd of the Sup, hsi Oed of light. 



