a 
412 Original Poetry. 
€¢ our early immortality,’’ fo truly gratifying 
to the elevated pride of a refle€ting and am- 
bitious mind.—Soothing and grateful, indeed, 
is the generous promife, that departed virtue, 
and extinguifhed talents, fhall find a more 
permanent record than any the pomp of {culp- 
ture, or the labours of infcription, can afford. 
The writer of the little poems here fubjoin- 
ed, was a ftriking example of what the pow- 
ers of native genius may effet, unaffifted by 
any of thofe predeftined happy circumftances 
that fhelter its firft fhoots from the blighting 
winds of unkindnefs or negle&t, and, gently 
unfolding to mild fkies its fubfequent blof- 
foms, refrefh and animate them with all the 
dews and light of heaven. 
Maria Temple’s morning of life knew none 
of the bleffednefs of thefe unbribed and fpon- 
taneous advantages ; yet the extraordinary 
vigour of her youthful mind, overcoming eve- 
ry difficulty of fituation, feemed to mock the 
toil of time, and in variety of inftances to fu- 
perfede the neceffity of inftru€tion. She 
united the nobleft energies of intelleé&t with a 
correctnefs, a depth, and perfpicuity of judg- 
ment, a lofty independent identity of opinion, 
with a modef{t attention to the opinion of 
others, that commanded univerfal affe€tion, 
and often difarmed even envy 3 and this 
bright pi€ture was rendered ftill more inte- 
refting by every delicacy of feeling, and every 
fofter fhade of fentiment—by every grace of 
polifhed manners, and every charm of perfon, 
Innocence, and nature. Such was her rapid 
proficiency in mufic, that at little more than 
five years old fhe played in public concert, as 
the inhabitants of Chefter muft well remem- 
ber ; and her advances in various of the other 
fifter arts and {ciences were no lefs wonderful; 
though painting became the paflion of her 
life ; and her defigns, like her fymphonies, 
the carelefs graces of her fong, or the novel 
beauties of her andante airs, which were all 
improvuifa, {poke the genuine language of her 
foul,and were full of magnificent and fublime 
ideas—rich in fancy, and great in effet—like 
the lightning of her eyes, that flafhed delight 
and rapture upon all the world of real tafte 
ard feeling—force, and fidelity of expreilion 
marked all fhe did. Thus fparkling in every 
polifhed gem of mind, which borrowed nothing 
of its luftre from artifice or fafhion, but was 
the pureft emanation from her divine origi- 
nai ;—thus gentle, affable, and good—capti- 
vating in perfon, manners, and addrefs ; admi- 
ration never failed to attend on all her fteps. 
But let it be more particularly remembered 
to the honour of this young lady, that praife 
never rendered her vain, nor -confcious fupe- 
Fiority prefuming of arrogant. Unteduced by 
what -is falfely called pleafure, retirement 
was her choice, and all her hours were de- 
voted to the acquifition of knowledge, the 
ftudy of nature in its favourite walks, andthe 
oh SE EeP of her talents. It may he jaftly 
aiirmed, that as the mental horizon widen- 
ed, het induftry increafed, that all her views 
were illuminated with the rays of virtue, and 
[Dec. 1, 
afcertained, as fhe proceeded, with the man= 
linefs of truth. During her refidence laf 
fummer amidft the majeftic and enchanting 
fcenes of Devonfhire, her enthufiafm was par- 
ticularly awakened ; it was the enthufiafm 
of the heart—-tender, delicate, and melan- 
tholy 3 and during one of her folitary ram- 
bles fhe committed to paper that fingularly- 
fine pathetic addrefs to her pencil, which ap- 
peared in the Star of July 14, Her health 
foon after declining, the was ordered to Brif- 
tol; and there, through all the flow grada- 
tions of the moft fubcle and treacherous of 
diforders, fhe difplayed a magnanimity, a com- 
pofure, and even cheerfulnefs, that feemed 
indeed to fay ‘* Death where is thy fting—~ . 
Grave where is thy victory?” Thefe in- 
ftances,in which the foul burfts all its earth- 
ly Gants and afferts itfelf in eternity, fur- 
nifh a leffon more fublime and imprefiive 
than all that frigid philofophy ever taught. | 
Newark, O&. 11, 1802. 
LINES fuppofed to have been found in an ob= 
fcure COMPTING-HOUSE near LONDON= 
BRIDGE. 
Opprefs’d by want, opprefs’d by woe, 
Opprefs’d by Fate’s repeated blow, 
I hail the waning lamp of life, 
Toend at once th? ignoble ftrife, 
And fet this proud heart free. 
When mantling morn firft ftreaks the fky, 
I ope’ the thanklefs languid eye . 
To fcan thefe darkfome walls’ drear bounds, 
And rife to tread the irkfome rounds 
Which mark’d the former day. 
Morn’s waking charms no more I views 
And fummer funs I bad adieu. 
Perchance upon fome high-perch’d tile 
I catch a chequer’d dubicus {mile, 
That wings lorn thoughts with hope. 
Entomb’d ’midft fogs and grov’ling toil, - 
I fad confume the mid-day oil 5 
Oft” meet a tyrant’s fharp rebuke 5 
Wealth’s licens’d joke, or freezing look, 
I’m yet untaught to bear. 
Ye mountain gales which once I knew ? 
Ye winged Loves with whom I flew ! 
Defert not one enflav’d by fate, 
But chaunt foft pity at his grate, 
And fan his panting foul. 
Ye fhadowy fails which bluely tife, 
On you may reft Johanna’s eyes ! 
Each line, each pennant, mem’ry note, 
Since at the bafe, perchance, ’twill float 
Of Portobello’s keights. 
When from the fort the fignal flies, 
And merry beils ring brifk replies— 
When dufky chiefs the veffel greet, 
Oh! will her pulfes quicker beat 
If England’s flag it-bears ? 
For her I {cal’d the palm-clad fteep, 
For her I brav’d the dang’rous deep, 
or her I fought proud Albion’s fhore, 
for her I dive for guilty ore, 
F For Ler I wake to die. 
Slow 
