1797: 
But ere the vital fpark had wing’d its way, 
As on the bed or death he panting lay, 
In moving terms, life’s feeble lamp juft fpent, 
His benediction to the fair he fent ; 
Who to the dire diftemper now a prey, 
And verging fatt to de, hy delirious lay. 
Soon as the abbefs told th’ expiring maid, 
That the iovd farh:r in the duft was laid, 
And dying bleft her. the with pleafure cry’d, 
** Let me be bury’d by my lovd-one’s fide ! 
My vow extends no farther than the grave, 
And thts js all my fonde(t with can crave.’ 
Stern gloomy zeal, relenting at the p:ayery 
This her latt with then gave the conftaut fair. 
The'r tomb proclaims them juftly, ftill we 
hea et 
*‘ Lovely while Jiving, nor in death disjoin’d.”” 
anor+Place, Walworth. ek ALO Re 

EFFUSION. 
JJ HEN Aurora’s blufhirtg ray 
. focund leads the morn of May, 
And the pilf’r ng zephyr blows 
Odour from the new-born rofe ; 
Or, when evening’s fky ferene 
Blazes o’er the woodland fcene, 
And the crimfon-mantl’d fun 
Speaks his daily labour done ; 
When the village hum is mute, 
When in vain the thepherd’s flute 
Strives the foft tone to excel 
Of the lonely Philomel ; 
When amonsft yon aged trees, 
Wand’ring fighs the languid breeze, 
And the owlet, bird of night, 
Flitting round the turret’s height, 
Sad to Superttition’s ear, 
Shrieks her evening {ong of fear ; 
Or, when Cynthia pours her beam 
Playful on the pebbied ftréam, 
And the deep woods’ whifp’ring glade, 
Courts us to the fcented fhade ; 
Then, from ev’ry forrow free, 
Stella let me range with thee. 
Liverpool, Auguf}, 1797- T. AsHTON, 
es - 
‘SONNET. 
*T HE aitant landfcape glows with hazy I'ght : 
With trembling ray the vapour feeks the 
fkies, 
While o’er the river, glittering to the fight, 
In miazy courfe, the jetty {wallow flies ; 
Gleams the light dew-drop from the mofs-grown 
rock ; 
The Aoweret droops, fcorch’d by the fervid 
beam ; 
To the thick covert hies the bleating flock: ; 
With fluggith pace the heifer gains the itream; 
Untouch’d by care, the whiftling hind repairs 
To yonder bank, where high the poplar 
waves 
Its quiv’ring limbs: as he his.mgal prepares, 
_ His faithful cur th” expeéted morfel craves, 
Meanwhile I wander through the'fhady glen, 
Freed from thofe pangs which haunt the ways 
of men. G, 
MonTHLY Mac, No, XXI. 
Original Poetry. 
133 
- ADDRESS TO WEALTH. 
By Cuarces Lioyp. 
TT Heu hateful. mammon, leave my lothing 
fight !. 
I view in thee the murderer of thofe joys 
That fill the heart, clenching, with hard lean 
hand, 
The bloody fteel, which fevers laftingly 
Humanity’s bef ties. Self-centring fiend ! 
Thou fealeft every eye, left any more 
t caich the charms of nature, or perceive 
The vivid movements of the human foul 
Pourtray’d in flefhy charadters ; thou numb’ft 
The nerve that throbb’d fo fincly to the grafp 
OF generous friendfhip, or of witching love 
The more intenfe embrace 5, quencheft the glow 
Of wide benevolence, mock’it her holy 
_  fchemes - 
Of ample blifs, and on her very lip 
Freezeit the mellow figh, juft ris’n to foothe 
The paffing wretched one. 
I hate thee, Mammon: 
I hate thy fervants; hate them, Heaven, as 
thofe. : 
Who counteraét thy plans! | 
Ns To me, methinks, 
?T were well to humanize the heart, t’ expand 
The active foul, t’ embrace, with one wide widhy 
‘The univerfe, and move (uncentr’d here 
, ; 
As he that travels to a better world ! 
One infinite, benevolent, and wife, 
Works thro’ extended fpace, and we but live==« 
Living in Him! Learn, then, my foul, te look 
With indefatigable gaze to God ; 
And ftruggle (aye, annihilating felf) 
To view the bearings of the complex whole, 
‘From Him and with Him—this is the belt 
aim 
The perfeat triumph of Redeemed Man! 
TE 
LEVEE Oi hE Deh 
BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
I PAST my childhood’s home, and lo! ’twas 
= dark! 
The night-winds whiftl’d ’mid ifs leaflefs trees ! 
No taper twinkl’d cheerily to tell 
That sux, the friend, had heap’d the focial 
fire, 
Spread the trim board, and with an anxious 
heart, 
Expected me, her  deareft boy,” to pafs 
With, her the evening hour! Oh, no! ’twas 
gone, 
The friendly taper, and the warm fire’s glow, 
Trembling athwart the gloom! I liften’d long, 
Nor heard, fave th’ unfeeling blaft of night, 
That chill’d my frame, or the fear ice-zlaz’d 
twig 
~ That hoarfely rufiled! "twas too much—I 
wept ! 
Then I bethought me, fhe was coffin’d far ° 
Away—laid on the earth’s cold lap ! 
I look’d again—fuch thoughts were too, too 
true, 
For no ray glimmer’d !==I did pafs along, 
Shivering, and bow’d to earth’ with heavinefs. 
T - SONNET, 
GX 

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