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566 | Original Poetry. 
But I was doom’d to bleak Misfortune’s 
fhade ! 
The bay 1 fondly planted,—foon it died ! 
And my {weet myrtle !—foon I faw it fade, 
Ere yet one bloom its cherifh’d root fup- 
ply’d! 
Ah! nothing flourifh’d round me! nothing — 
grew ! 
My lovely myrtle funk into the tomb !— 
Jhe weeping willow andthe mournful yew 
Alone remain to foothe me with their 
gloom ! 
RUSTICIUS. 
Cottage of Mon Repos, 
Village of Sturry, near Canterbury; Kent, 
May 15, T805. 
ee aS 
HOME. 
VV HEN north winds rage and tempefts 
howl, 
find great folks on misfortunes fcowl, 
How {weet, rernote from bufy life, 
To prefs thy children and thy wife 
‘ Secure at home ! 
When Merit meets a thoufand cares, 
And Vice a pleafing femblancé wears, 
Would’ft thou her barbed dart elude ? 
Fly to the bofom of the good, 
And cherifh home ! 
When Evening’s dewy ftar afcends, 
Then with a few but real friends 
Well are thy fleeting moments fpent, 
Bounteous thy board, thy gueft content ! 
Then welcome home ! 
Should Sorrow’s child thy precinéts tread, 
°Tis thine te raife his drooping head ; 
His burning tears fhall ceafe to flow, 
His heart with giateful warmt.: fhall glowy 
And blefs thy home ¢ 
Alas! unnumber’dillsI view; ~~ 
Thy heart fhall beat, and ficken too 3 
Difeafe, and Want, and Anguifh lie 5 
Hark ! ’tis the widow—orphan’s—cry ? ”, 
They have nohome! 
. Should War’s fhrill trumpet firike thine ear, 
Alike remote from pride or fear, 
Honour unfheathes thy fhining fword, 
To conquer or to die! the word, 
Proteé&t thy home! 
Thy children’s children fhall receive 
From thee a recipe to live 5 
Their bleffings and their deeds arife 
‘In blended fragrance to the fkies, 
Their native home ! 
‘When age has frofted ev’ry hair, 
And loofen’d ties remove thy care, 
[ Fuly 15 
Then, when the veil is half withdrawn, 
Pleas’d fhalt thou hail the rifing morn, 
Thy laf bright home ! 
EE 
. THE SIGH. id 
: HLAT oft relieves the lab’ring heart, - 
Opprefs’d by all the train of woe ? 
What can a tran@ernt eafe impart 
When Fortune tays our comforts low ? 
What toan abfent friend is giv’n, 
Or breath’d upon the lonely tomb ? 
What rifes tothe God of Heav'n, 
Loft to the world in forrow’s gloom ? 
What heaves in gentle Pity’s breaft 
When Viceand Folly flutter by ? 
‘When Love in earlieft form is drefty 
Or liesin ambufh ?—'tis a figh ! 
R& 
THE REPROACH. 
AGAIN another dawn of woe ! 
' Yes, Henry, this I bear for thee : 
_ Grief fteals on true affeétion’s glow, 
And bids my troubled heart be free. — 
Why did that heart thy vows believe ? 
Why liftea to thy foothing tale ? 
Wert thou not aiming to deceive? | 
And flighted lowe removes the veil. 
Frequent beneath a winning form 
Dark and unmanly arts appear ; ae 
Thus bright the glance-of Pleafure’s mormg. 
But lurking dangers chill with fear. 
Nor triumph in the work of death, 
Nor turn thee from my ardent pray’r; 
May Heav’n receive my parting breath 5 
I pardon, and would meet thee there. 
INSCRIPTION ON A BATH, | 
_AT THE SEAT OF PHILIP SANSOM, ESQ, — 
LAYTONSTONE. 
HAT though this humble bath no 
grandeur boaft Ne 
To vie with thofe on Egypt’s arid coaft ? 
What though no vaulted roof, no ftately 
. dome, . . 
Like thofe weré erft the pride of Greece and 
| Rome ! 
If, though no flaves their coftly perfumes 
bring, ' 
Our fhrubs fhall yield the finer fweets of. 
fpring 3 ; 
If, though no minftrels pour the varied lay, » 
You find a chorifter on every {pray :— 
Tf the clear pool new health and ftrength fup=_ 
i pliesy 
Oh ! waft a grateful tribute to the fies! 
Extraft 
