[June I, 
ORIGINAL POETRY. 
=m ae . 
To GILBERT WAKEFIELD, A. B. on bis Was never meant for effipire. Thus relaps’d, 
LIBERATION from PRISON. 
PURE light of learning, foul of generous 
mould, 
Ardent in Truth’s great caufe, erect and free, 
Welcome, O welcome ! from thy prifon gloom, 
To open air and funfhine, to thofe boons 
Which Nature theds profufe, while tyrant 
Man, 
¢¢Dreft in his brief authority,” and ftern 
In all the litt?e jealoufy of pow’r, 
Reftricts the bounty of a Father’s hand, 
And fcants a Brother’s blifs.——-But now ’tis 
oer, 
And focial friendfhip and domeftic love 
Shall pour their healing balm 5 while con- 
{cious worth 
~ With noble fcorn repels the fland’rous charge, 
That brands imprudence with the ftamp of 
guilt. 
Meantime difdain not, learned as thou art, 
To fcan this world’s great leflon: high-raifed 
hopes 
Of Juftice feated on the throne of Pow’r, 
OF bright Aftrea’s reign reviv’d, and Peace, 
With heavenly Truth and Virtue by her fide, 
Uniting nations in a band of love, 
Have faded all to air; and nought remains 
But that dire law of force, whofe iron fway 
The fons of men through every blood-ftain’d 
age 
Has ruled relu€tant. When that fage benign, 
The Man of Nazareth, preach’d his gentle 
law, 
And liftening crowds drank honey from his 
tongue—~ 
When Mars, Bellona, and the favage rout 
Of Gods impure and vengeful, fhrunk to 
fhades, 
And.refcued Man adored a common fire ; 
Who could refrain to hail the bleffed time 
®f {words to fickles turn’d, of general good 
Pour’d in full ftreams through all the human 
tribes, ; 
And fhared alike by all ? But ah! how feon 
The glorious profpeét darken’d! When the 
crofs 
Gleam’d direful ’mid the hof of Conftantine, 
And took the eagle’s place—when mitred 
priefts 
Mimick’d the flamen in his myitic pomp, 
And proudly bent around a defpot’s thrune ; 
Then, whil# the name at Antioch firft re- 
ver'd : 
Ran conquering thro” the world, it loft its 
fentc,” 7 
And join’d in monfirous league with all the 
crimes 
' "That force, and fraud, and lawlefs luft of fway 
¥nfpir’d to plague mankind. Then, Gofpel- 
rules 
Were held an empty letter ; and the grave 
_ And fpecious commentator well could prove 
‘Fhat fuch an holy, humble, peaceful law, 
The human brute refumed his native form, 
And prey’d again on carnage, 
Ceafe then, my Friend, thy generous hope- 
lefs aim, 
Nor to unfeeling Folly yield again 
Her darling fight, of Genius turn’d to fcorn, 
And Virtue pining in the cell of guilt. 
Defert no more the Mufe ; unfoldthe ftores 
Of fertile Greece and Latium ; free each gem 
From the dark cruft that fhrowds its beau- 
teous beams, 
And fair prefent them to th’ admiring eye ~ - 
Arranged in kindred luftre. Take ferene 
The tranquil bleffings that thy lot affords, 
And in the foothing voice of friendfhip drown 
The groans, and shouts, and triumphs of the 
world, J. Arkin. 
— 
WRITTEN afier atlending a@ COURSE. of 
' ASTRONOMICAL LECTURES, . 
CCLOUDLESS, view the Arch of Heaven, 
In pomp fublime array’d! “ 
When night her fhadowy feat has fix’d, 
Her. wond’rous ftores difplay’d. 
She points to all the radiant gems, 
Sprinkling the blue ferene 5 
_ Inviting Science to explain 
The_fair myfterious fcene. 
Cold as the ice which clafps the pole 
That heart muft fure be found, 
Which feels no animating glow, 
Nor kihdles at the found. 
For hufh—methinks devotion’s firains 
At intervals I hear ; ; 
Now faint, as from thofe orbs remote, | 
Now {welling, foft, and clear. ~ 
The hallowed founds from world to world — 
Echo thro’ boundlefs fpace 3 
Infufe a facred calm around, . 
Each ruder paffion chafe. 
Cloudlefs, view the Arch of Heaven, . 
In pomp fublime array’d! 
When night her fhadowy feat has fixed, 
Her wond’rous ftores difplay’d. 
Epitaph on Mrs. Rozinson’s Tombflones in 
the Churth of Old Windfor, by MR. PRATT- 
QF Beauty’s Ife, her daughters muft de- 
clare, 
She who fleeps here, was faireft of the fair. 
But ah! while Nature on her favourite 
fmil’d, : 
And Genius claim’d his fhare In Beauty’s 
Child; | | 
Ev’n as they wove a garland for her brow, 
Sorrow prepar’d a willowy wreath of woe: 
Mix’d lurid nightfhade with the buds of May, 
And twin’d her darkeft cyprefs with the bay : 
In mildew tears fteep’d every opening flow’r, 
| Prey’d on the fweets, and gave the canker” 
pow rs 
» Yee 
