134 
SONNET. 
°’[T WOULD not be relith'd, Stanhope, I fhould 
think, 
By lordlings,all begarter’d and beftarr'd, 
To fee their ribbands blue, and ribbands pink, 
Reduc’d to fell. for feven-pence a yard, 
And pedigrees, that match a ftallion’s, marr’d. 
Where is the noble breaft that would not fink, 
With chill alarms of coming dilregard, 
When dukes and peers to fimple mifters fhrink, 
And all the tinkling of a title dies? 
*Twere horrid, too, to coach it thro’ the town, 
Without a coat of arms, in quaker-zuife ; 
To lofe the parifh-names, in which the crown 
Delighteth much its minions to difguife, 
Familiar infamy once their own. 

SONNET. 
EH! that the labouring mind could quit its 
{phere 
Of earthly mould, and roam 
thro’ pregnant 
{pace, 
Spurning thofe mortal boundaries time and 
place, 
And to divinity its effence raife ; 
That with a ken omnifcient it might gaze 
On diftant worlds and fyftems complicate, 
Freed fiom the flayery of a mortal ftate, 
“The vivid glow of Hope and chill of Fear. 
What is the boafted fovereignty of thought, 
But the celd dogma of a fenfual mind. 
_In the fole lore of pain and pteafure taught 5 
Linked to mere man, by fcience unrefin’d. 
So the poor Indian, from th’ imprifoning ftrand, 
Views the wide fea, nor-dreams of diftant land. 
i3 B. W. 1h 
EE 
_ LINES 
ADDRESSED TO AN AFFECTIONATE 
MOTHER. 
O MY lov’d Mother—lov’d to lateft days— 
Lovw’d from the moment that you gave me 
bith, 
Accept the tribute of the duteous praife, 
That owns a parent’s fame—reveres 
worth. 
For oft when infant pains my heart oppreft *, 
And ling’ring hours in anguith pafe'd away, 
You loft with me the balmy fwects of reft, 
Nor left me forrowing with the op’ning day. 
Then would the mother ufe her tender care, 
And fuothe to fleep by every little art 5 
Watch my foft lumbers with a penfive air, 
And prayers to heaven for future blifs impart. 
Fain would I bear thee from this world of {trife, 
Return thy kindneis, and thy cares repay 5 
Exert each nerve to charm declining life, 
And tint thy evening with a fummer’s ray. 
But if, fad doom, I fee thee labour ftill, 
Tf all thefe golden hopes my graip elude 5 
Yet live to read my purpofe inmy will-— 
Yet live to blefs the {mile of gratitude ! 
her 
Zz. 
Queen-ftrect, Lincoln’ s-Jnn-Fields, Fuly 24. 

%* Pha Author is lame. 
Original Pactry. 
/ 
[Aug. 
SOXNETS. 
By CuHarres Ltoyp. 
; IB eee 
TO A WOOD-PIGEON, 
(Written in a Boat, on Locu-Lomonp, on 
seeing one dart into a Copfe, on one- of the 
Iflands of the Late) 
W HITHER, lone wanderer—whither art 
thou flown?— _ 
To what fequefer’d bow’r or gloomy dell ?— 
Say, doft thou go where forrow is unknown, 
Where trouble never enters, doft thou dwell 2 
Lend me thy wing then, tenant of th<fe fhades! 
Lend me thy wing—thy gentle aid impart, 
For I weuld fain explore thefe wizard glades, 
Ard fhun the feebleft trace of human art! “ 
Oh! kindly guide me to a cave ef night, 
So wild, fo very fecret, fo unknown, 
That not impervious only to the fight, 
The callcus mind its power may alfo owns 
And, darken’d Memory, ceafing to inform, 
A wretch may fhelter from misfortune’s florne, 

ve 
ADs: THE SABBATH. 
AH! quiet day, I oft recal the time, 
When I did chace my childifh fluggifhnefs 
(The “ rear of darknefs ling’ring ftill’”) to 
drefs 
In due fort for thy coming : the firft chime 
Of blithfome bells, that ufher'd in the morn, 
Carol’d to me of rett and fimpleft mirth : 
?T was then all happinefs on the wide earth 
To gaze! [I little dreamt, that man was born 
For aught but wholefome toil and holieit praife, 
Thanking that God who made him to re= 
Oise. oe 
But J am changed now! nor could F raife 
My funken fpirit, at thy well-known voice 5 
But that thou feemeft foothingly to fay, 
‘6 Look up, poor mourner, to a better day.” 

Ve. 
DID I not fornetimes breathe an anxious figh 
Beyond this heartlefs wildernefs of men 
Heavenward ; and did not Faith, with pierc- 
ing ken, , 
Steal on the folitary hour, and dry 
Each tear; and with fuch calming kindlinefs, . 
As might perfuade poor Lunacy to fleep, 
Each wayward aching in oblivion fteep-5 
T long ere now had fainted! Me to blefs 
Love never comes—nor Hope, “ that comes to. 
all!” 
Strange defolation, burfting from above, . 
Darkens each earthly fcene! My God! I call 
On thee, ere yet Grief’s cank’ring worm 
_ confume 
Life’s “ fear and yellow leaf :?? 
, bloom. - Ate 
With Her, the /of friend, in the realms of 
Love ! me 
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