1803.] 
The fair illufion fades before his fight 5 
Around he fees a war of fraud and force, 
Where every finer feeling meets a blight, 
And every aét betrays a felfith fource. 
‘With generous purpofe fraught, and glowing 
heart, 
He feeks to heal the wounds which man 
inflits $ . 
But Falfehood fpeeds, and flings her poifon’d 
dart : 
His quivering heart the thaft of Slander 
hits ! 
Yes ! *tis a fcene where Man ¢¢ ereét and tall”? 
Bows his bafe neck at each ufurper’s nod ! 
And while he vaunts, the would-be lord of 
all, 
Kiffes the tyrant’s foul-fubjeéting rod ! 
phere reafoning Man purfues a phantom-form 
' That ftill eludes his grafp, and brings him 
woe 3 
He looks for  hetehe ferenenefs in the ftorm, 
He feeks for blifs in toys and fenfelefs 
fhow !} 
There Cunning, veil’d in Wifdom’s borrow*d 
drefs, © 
Shared the refpect which Wifdom fails to 
find ; 
Phere Pride and Power unbending Worth op- 
prefs, 
And Prejudice ftill clips the wings of Mind. 
There icy Caution chills the foul chat glows 
With fweet Enthufiafm’s generous fire ! 
Blafts all the joys Benevolence beftows, 
And fnaps the thrilling firings of Trant> 
port’s lyre } 
There black Sufpicion, ‘* green-ey’d mon- 
fter,” reigns, 
Quick to conceive a word—a look, amifs ; 
Broods, gloomy, o’er his felf- eed pains, 
And poifons at its fource the ftream of 
blifs} : 
And there Injuftice, fiend gigantic! ftalks, 
With Want, and Woe, and Havoc in his 
rear ! 
There Ignorance, with twin-born Evil, 
waiks, 
‘And deems the fource of virtue, idiot fear ! 
There, oh, what fcenes to wound th’ unprac- 
tis’d fight | 
Pale Virtue droops, a perfecuted guett ; 
And millions toil, condemned to eh aise 
night, 
That one may riot in-unhallow’d watte ! 
*Tis obje&ts fuch as thefe that fteel the heart, 
And make fhort.fighted Man his race’s foe ; 
Too foon quick Youth feels Difappointment’s 
datt ; 
He finks ; or, world-fchool’d, feeds on 
others’ woe! 
Yet, let not fcenes like thefe, foft-bofom'd 
' youth } 
Thy all-fufceptive foul *gaint feeling fteel ; 
Hope fmiling comes ! and foon fhall mighty 
Truth 
Humanity’ S unnumber’d forrows heal! 
Original Poetry. 519 
And the dark clouds, that blur the beauteous 
face 
Of Nature, all fhall vanifh into aie | 
Nor long fhall man, ftrivingin error’s chacey - 
Be doom’d to difappointment and defpair ! 
Then worfhip Truth, and {corn bafe Falfe- 
hood’s wrongs, 
And leave foul Calumny to feaft and gorge! 
Nor join the felfifh woe-infli@ting throngs, 
Nor fink beneath the World’s life- with ring 
fcourge ! 
Lo! Truth appears ! and brighter fcenes 
arife ! 
The clath of arms and interefts fhall ceafe ! 
The paft alone fhall claim foft Pity’s fighs, 
And renovated Earth fhall reft in peace ! 
W—r, Northumberland. Ais ine 
Se 
EVENING. 
Now in the kindling weft, the fun 
His headlong courfe has almoft run 3 
Thro’ the long fhades that gath’ring grow, 
Dimly the difant mountains fhow 3 
Soft rifing now, the eaftern breeze 
Plays ruftling thro’ the quiv’ring trees ; 
Sweeps with foft wing the rippling ftream 
That glitters to the fetting beam. 
We live, we breathe, no more we fly 
The torrid air, the blazing fky; 
Refrefhing breeze, thy fmiles we blefs, 
Thy power our languid limbs confefs. 
Sweet at thistwilight hour to rove 
The tangled thickets of the grove ; 
* How foft the air! how ftill the fhade ! 
What fluttering hopes the breaft invade 4 
*Tis Love that rules this balmy hour, 
The thrilling fenfes own his pow’r 5 
Then come, my Fair, why this delay, 
My gentle Delia, hafte away ! 
© Maid belov’d ! how canit thou tear 
Thy Lover’s heart with anxious fear ? 
Can the pale cheek and wafted form, 
And pining cares, that youth deform— _ 
Fhe languid look, the tears that break 
Unfeemly down ae manhood’s cheek— 
Can thefe delight thy tender breaft, 
Can fights of forrow make thee bleft ? 
Think, ina year, a month, a day, 
Our fcanty life may fadeaway ; 
Relentlefs‘Time fhall quick confume 
The ripen’d fruit, the vernal bloom ; 
Or wint’ry Age fhall quench our fire, 
Each genial hope, each fond defire: 
Enjoy to-day ! tis all we have 
Between the crad:eand the grave 3 
Enjoy to-day! tis not for man 
The dim futurity tofcan, 
And does the confcious blufh arife ? 
And read I right thofe fpeaking eyes ? 
I feel thy heaving bofom beat 5 
How throb my veins with tranfports {weet ! 
That thrilling touch—lI feel it dart 
Refiftlefs thro’ my panting heart ! 
Come, friendly Night! our raptures hide,’ 
Aad fold us in thy curtain wide. 
COWLEY’'s 
