41996.) : (489) 
ORIGINAL POPRTRY- 

~ LETTER TO A FRIEND, Ah me ! thofe blifsful {cenes are o’er; - 
WRITTEN FROM JAMAICA. Far banifhed from my natal fhore, 
W IL LE you, my friend, in perfedt eafe, I droop, and pine with fullen care, 
Ride, walk, or ramble, where you pleafe, Victim of forrow and defpair: 
Saunter to coffee-houfe or play, ' O, let your pity ftill attend 
And carelefs frolic through the day ; Your once, once happy cheerful friend | 
°Tis mine, beyond th’ Atlantic main, ) Let me ftili live within your mind, 
To combat each degree of pain ; So thall my foul fome comfort find; 
) Stranger to blifs, or change of fcene, And think, when yielding up my breath, 
Victim of dullnefs, and athe fpleen. Friendthip allays the Ee of death, 
Here Phebus darts his fierceft rays, oR 
And all creation feems to blaze ; S ACRED MUSIC. 
Fainting, we bear the fultry heat, AN ODE, 
pat val Mice: ae es ee FROM THE GERMAN OF KLOPSTOCK. 
‘Afford their mich det ae ca Os dream, which I muft ne’er behold 
fulfill’d, 
Thou beamy form, more fair than orient iy, 
Float back and hover yet 
Before my fwimming fight. 
His beams, refiftlefs, force their way, 
And nature fickens with c¢cay. 
When Sol, at length, retires to reft, 
And veils ih glories in the weft ; 
When ev’ning comes, all mild, ea ar, Do they wear crowns in vain, that they forbear 
And breezes fan the fultry air; To realize the heavenly portraiture ? 
~ AMiion fill retains her pow’t, Shall marble hearfe them all, 
And plagues attend each paffing hour: Ere the bright change be wrought ; 
A buzzing infec * hovers round, .. Hail, chofen ruler of a freer world | 
And darts full many a piercing wound ; For free fhall bloom the never-fading fong— 
Keeps his fell {tation near the bed, en Who bid’ it be! To thee 
And fleep denies to weary head. oe Religion’s honours rife. 
Defpair here lifts her baleful hand, my Yes——could the grave allow—of thee ’d fing: 
While fell Difeafe pervades the land; For once would Infpiration {tring the lyre 
And meagre Death near couching lies, The ae ee a 
To fnatch the wretched, deftin’d prize: Nis, olede lier ing 
Thefe, and athoufand evils more, UB Ca 1), PAGS oh ee ~verfe. 
Alas ! are here referv’d in, ftore, a is thy deed, my wifh. He has not. 
To blatt our joys, and render life known 
One tragic fcene of pain and ftrife. What ’tis to melt in blifs, who never felt 
- Inthis dull ifle, no blooming fair, ea le rife 
With fweet attraction, foothes our care % nN dacred Muiic’s wing : 
No foft refinements gild their charms, N-’er fwee tly trembled, when adoring choirs 
No elegance in language warms ; gamete their hallow’d Ores of folemn praife ; 
Strangers to each perfuafive art, ht And, at each aweful paufe, 
‘To gain admiffion to the heart. “" The pateen choirs above, 
Here Afric’s fable race deplore 
heir bondage on this hoftile fhore ; 
Where, crufh’d beneath the galling chain, 
The voice of pity pleads in vain: 
Relentlefs defpots held the fway, 
Long float around my forehead, blifsful dreara! 
Thear a Chriftian people yron their God, 
And thoufands kneel at once, 
Jehovah, Lord, to thee. 
And rigid laws devote their prey The people fing their Saviour, fing the Son ; 
Each agonizing pang to find, Their fimple fong according with the heart, 
Each racking torture of the Gaind: Yet lofty, fuch as lifts 
Ye Gods ! what tranfports once ft knew ! Th’ afpiing foul from earth. 
How {wift the fleeting moments flew ! On the rais’d eye-lafh, on the burning cheek, 
No anxious pangs difturb’d my reft, ' The voung tear quivers; for they view the 
But al was peace within my breaft; goal 
Blythefome I pafs’d each jocund day, Where fhines the golden crown, 
While vari’d pleafures ftrew’d my way. 
When with Eliza oft’ I ftray’d, 
And heard and faw the lovely maid; nla 
Heard her, with eloquence sane Mufic, as if pour’d artlefs from the breaft ; 
Declare her heart was only mine Bre io the matter walled 
<While Truth fat beaming in her eye, 
Boe Vee ao al adit ae I prove Deep, ftrong, it jeizes on the {welling heart, 
The namele{s joys that wait on love ! Scamming oe amie ie. aan mail the tear, 
(a cr a NR RN A ES TED, 
‘ * Mutkito, . Or ftcepin holy awe. ‘ 
MontTHLY Mag. No. VI. 3R Borne 
Where angels wave the palm. 
Huth! the clear fong wells forth. Now flows 
if 
To lead its channel’d courfe. 

