1810.] 
ODE, ro EURILLA rn ADVERSITY. 
ALONE and pensive in those wilds I stray, 
Where, save the feather’d choir, who 
carol gay, 
Wo sound obtrudes ; where Silence rears her - 
throne, 
By duil Oblivion’s poppies overgrown 5 
And with such sway despotic rules the soul, 
Ass e’en the starts of Sorrow to controul 5 
As e’en to bid the tears of Friendship cease, 
And make me fancy all thy cares at peace. 
Yet, wheresoe’er my wand’ring footsteps 
tread, 
My thoughts, by some spontaneous impulse 
led, b 
Fly fast to thee: nor will I pause to own 
‘Thou most art with me, when1’m most alone. 
But if my Muse, too sedulous t? impart 
The balm of comfort to thy anguish’d heart, 
Hath oft disgusted by officious zeal, 
And widen’d wounds she fondly hop’d to heal, 
More irksome now thou’lt deem th’ obtrusive 
lyre, 
Whose notes J waken with encreas’d desire 
Thy woes to soothe. Forgive the advent’rous 
strain, 
Which dares the rigours of thy fate arraign; 
Which dares bewail (O, grant me pardon, 
Heav’n!) 
That Peace to selfish Apathy is giv’n ; 
Whilst peerless Worth, with lamb-like Meek- 
ness join’d, 
To dire, infuriate Warfare seems consign’d. 
Full weli 1 know reproach were vainly 
hurl’d 
A\gainst th’ unfeeling baseness of this world; 
Full well I know how impotent each art 
To melt, with Pity’s drops, the fiinty heart ; 
‘To check the bitter taunts of scowling pride, 
Make ranc’rous Envy throw her snakes aside, 
Compel curst Falsehood at Truth’s shrine to 
kneel, 
Or rob the hand of Malice of its steel: 
Yet, tho” thy woes, with my upbraidings 
join’d, 
In vain would strive to meliorate mankind, 
Still are there means all potent to confound 
The iron breasts thy sufferings fail to wound ; 
Still to their pow’r superior thou may’st rise, 
And ev’ry arrow of their wrath despise. 
Too just, too ample, is thy cause for woe, 
Then check not tears, but freely let them 
flow; 
. Affiiction’s tide, by constant force represt, 
And closely pent within a single breast, 
- "There rages fierce, with direst ngischiefs rife, 
Dethroning Reason, and o’erwhelming life: 
Then yield it scope, and to some kindred 
heart, 
Thy ev'ry care, thy ev’ry thought, impart 5 
For Sym ):athy, blest instinct of our kind, 
- Js purest opiuin to the tortur’d mind. 
Seek then, some friend, who early learnt 
to grieve 
At others’ woe, who lives but to relieve; 
Some breast so much in concert with thy own, 
As, when thou smil’st, or weep’st=sto Joy, or 
§0an 5 aie): 
Original Poetry. 
347 
With sweet Mimosa be her temples crown’d, — 
By patient Prudence let her lips be bound, 
Of ail thy griefs tet her have felt the smart, 
And shew where once they rankled in her 
heart 5 
Let her (rare gift!) possess the skill to know 
When to check tears, and when to bid them 
flow 5 
Thus will her hand be competent to spread 
Comfort’s soft roses o’er thy thorny bed. 
But, once again, dear suff’ring saint, take 
heed. 
This friend be deck’d with Caution’s choicest 
meed, 
For Grief unlocks the soul, and brings to view 
Each thought, each merit, and each failing 
too. 
Seek then a friend, sage, cautions, faiths 
ful, kind: 
But hold! I know the temper of thy mind—= 
If some good angel such a friend bestow’d, 
To rescue thee from Grief’s o’er whel ming load, 
Thy soul would doat on her’s—-and shou’dst 
thou lose 
This first of blessings--Hold! Ah, hold, my 
Muse ! 
Nor paint a scene which Nature could not 
bear—— 
Yes, seek a friend, a firmer friend than e’er 
Inspir’d our mortal clay; a friend, whose 
mind | 
Not all the malice of this world combin’d 
Can e’er wean from thee: a celestial guard, 
Who, from thy breast each stroke of Fate to 
ward, 
Over Fate herself presides, o’er time, Q’er 
space, 
And all the myriads of the human race ; 
Who knows no change, whose love will never 
cease, 
Whose voice is comfort, and whose paths are 
peace: 
O, turn to him, to God! the only friend, 
On whom thou may’st, without a fear, depend 5- 
And learn, that ’mid Adversity’s dark maze, 
Or gay Prosperity’s seductive blaze, 
He only knows our erring steps to guide 
Where spotless Truth and deathless Joy pree 
side. M.STARKE. — 
ee 
CARD-TABLE EPITAPH. 
Oz a beautiful Woman, whose ruin by a great 
frequenter of Clubs occasioned ber premature 
Deatb. 
CLARISSA reign’d the queen of hearts, 
Like sparkling diamouds wete her eyes 5 
But through the knave of clubs’ false arts, 
Here bedded by a spade she lies. J.B. 
i 
FROM ANACREON. 
NIG#sT her sable pall has spread 
O’er each weary mortal’s head 5 
Morpheus, friend of human kind, 
Bathes in Lethe’s stream the mind § © 
Whilst I alone, condemned t weep, 
Vainly court balsamic sleep. | 
Hark 
