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The dame, who own'd, adorn'd the place;
Three blooming daughters added grace.
The firft, with gentlest manners bleft
And temper fweet, each heart poffeft;
Who view'd her, catch'd the tender flame :
And foft AMASIA was her name.

In fprightly fenfe and polish'd air,
What maid with MIRA might compare;
While LUCIA's eyes, and LUCIA's lyre,
Did unrefifted love infpire.

Imagine now the table clear, And mirth in ev'ry face appear: The fong, the tale, the jeft went round, The riddle dark, the trick profound, Thus each admiring and admir'd, The hoft and guefts at length retir'd; When WIT thus fpake her fifter train : "Faith, friends, our errand is but vain"Quick let us measure, back the fky; "Thefe nymphs alone may well supply "WIT, INNOCENCE, and HARMONY."

THE SWEET NEGLECT.

STILL to be neat, ftill to be dreft,
As you were going to a feaft;
Still to be powder'd, ftill perfum'd;
Lady, it is to be prefum'd,

Tho' art's hid caufes are not found,
All is not fweet, all is not found.

Give me a look, give me a face,
That makes SIMPLICITY a grace;
Robes loofely flowing, hair as free;
Such SWEET NEGLECT more taketh me
Than all th' adulteries of art

That ftrike mine eye, but not mine heart.

THE HERMIT AND HIS DOG.

IN life's fair morn, I knew an aged feer,
Who fad and lonely pafs'd his joyless year;
Betray'd, heart-broken, from the world he ran,
And thunn'd, oh, dire extreme! the face of man;
Humbly he rear'd his hut within the wood,
Hermit his veft, an hermit's was his food.
Nitch'd in fome corner of the gelid cave
Where chilling drops the rugged rock-fione lave;
Hour after hour, the melancholy fage,
Drop after drop, to reckon, would engage
The ling'ring day, and trickling as they fell,
A tear went with them to the narrow well;
Then thus he moraliz'd, as flow it pafs'd,
"This brings me nearer LUCIA than the last;
"And this, now ftreaming from the eye," faid he,
"Oh, my lov'd child! will bring me nearer thee."
When firft he roam'd, his DOG with anxious care,
His wand'rings watch'd, as emulous to share;
In vain the faithful brute was bid to go,
In vain the forrower fought a lonely woe.
The HERMIT paus'd, th' attendant DOG was near,
Slept at his feet, and caught the falling tear;
Up rofe the HERMIT, up the DOG would rife,
And ev'ry way to win a mafter tries.—
"Then be it fo. Come, faithful fool," he faid;
One pat encourag'd, and they fought the fhade;
An unfrequented thicket foon they found,
And both repos'd upon the leafy ground;
Mellifluous murm'rings told the fountains nigh,
Fountains, which well a pilgrim's drink fupply:
And thence, by many a labyrinth led,
Where ev'ry tree bestow'd an ev'ning bed.
Skill'd in the chace the faithful creature brought
Whate'er at morn or moon-light courfe he caught;
But the fage lent his sympathy to all,
Nor faw unwept his dumb affociates fall,

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He was, in footh, the gentleft of his kind, And, though an HERMIT, had a focial mind: "And why," faid he, "muft man fubfift by prey? Why, ftop yon melting mufic on the spray? "Why, when affail'd by hounds and hunters' cry, "Muft half the harmless race in terrors die? "Why muft we work of innocence the woe? "Still fhall this bofom throb, thefe eyes o'erflow: "An heart too tender here, from man, retires, "An heart that aches, if but a wren expires." Thus liv'd the mafter good, the fervant true, "Till to its God the mafter's fpirit flew; Befide a fount, which daily water gave, Stooping to drink, the HERMIT found a grave; All in the running ftream his garments spread, And dark, damp verdure ill conceal'd his head; The faithful SERVANT from that fatal day Watch'd the lov'd corfe, and hourly pin'd away: His head upon his mafter's cheek was found, While the obftructed water mourn'd around.

TO THE FEATHER'D RACE.

AGAIN the balmy zephyr blows,
Fresh verdure decks the grove,
Each bird with vernal rapture glows,
And tunes his note to love.

Ye gentle warblers, hither fly,
And fhun the noon-tide heat;

My fhrubs a cooling fhade fupply,
My groves a fafe retreat.

Here freely hop from fpray to spray,
Or weave the moffy neft;
Here rove and fing the live-long day;

At night here fweetly reft.

Amidft this cool translucent rill,

That trickles down the glade,

Here bathe your plumes, here drink your fill,
And revel in the thade.

No fchool-boy rude, to mifchief prone,
E'er fhews his ruddy face,

Or twangs his bow, or hurls a ftone,
In this fequefter'd place.

Hither the vocal THRUSH repairs,
Secure the LINNET fings,

The GOLDFINCH dreads no flimy fnares
To clog her painted wings.

Sad PHILOMEL! ah, quit thy haunt,
Yon diftant woods among,

And round my friendly grotto chaunt
Thy fweetly-plaintive fong.

Let not the harmlefs RED-BREAST fear,
Domeftic bird, to come
And feek a fure afylum here,

With one that loves his home!
My trees for you, ye artlefs tribe,
Shall ftore of fruit preferve;
Oh, let me thus your friendship bribe!
Come-feed without referve.

For you thefe cherries I protect,
To you thefe plumbs belong:
Sweet is the fruit that you have peck'd,
But sweeter far your song.

Let then this league, betwixt us made,
Our mutual int'refts guard:
Mine be the gift of fruit and fhade;
Your fongs be my reward.

SLAVERY.

OH! for a lodge in fome vaft wilderness,
Some boundlefs contiguity of thade,

Where rumour of oppreffion and deceit,
Of unfuccefsful or fuccefsful war,

Might never reach me more. My ear is pain'd,

My foul is fick with ev'ry day's report

Of wrong and outrage, with which the earth is fill'd.

There is no flesh in man's obdurate heart,
It does not feel for MAN. The nat❜ral bond
Of brotherhood, is fever'd as the flax
That falls afunder at the touch of fire.
He finds his fellow, guilty of a skin

Not colour'd like his own; and having pow'r
T'inforce the wrong, for fuch a worthy cause,
Dooms and devotes him as his lawful prey.
Lands interfected by a narrow frith
Abhor each other. Mountains interpos'd,
Make enemies of nations, who had elfe,
Like kindred drops, been mingl'd into one.
Thus man devotes his BROTHER, and deftroys;
And worse than all, and most to be deplor'd,
As human-nature's broadeft, fouleft blot,
Chains him, and tasks him, and exacts his sweat
With ftripes, that MERCY with a bleeding heart
Weeps when the fees inflicted on a beast.
Then what is MAN? And what MAN feeing this,
And having human feelings, does not blufh
And hang his head, to think himself a MAN?
I would not have a SLAVE to till my ground,
To carry me, to fan me while I fleep,

And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth
That finews bought and fold have ever earn'd.
No! dear as FREEDOM is, and in my heart's
Juft eftimation priz'd above all price,

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I had much rather be myself the SLAVE,
And wear the bonds, than faften them on him.
We have no SLAVES at home-then why abroad?
And they themselves once ferry'd o'er the wave
That parts us, are emancipate and loos'd.
SLAVES cannot breathe in ENGLAND; if their lungs
Receive our air, that moment they are free;
They touch our country, and their fhackles fall.
That's noble, and bespeaks a nation proud
And jealous of the bleffing. Spread it, then,
And let it circulate through ev'ry vein

Of all your empire. That where BRITAIN's pow'r
Is felt, mankind may feel her MERCY too.

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