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On reading Clito's ingenious and devout Lines, entitulede

Thoughts in Health.


HEN the pale monarch aims his dreadful dart;

And nature's pow'rs at dissolution start,
When instant bord’ring on the gloomy grave,
Beyond all pow'r of human art to save,
Thus calm, may I resign my fleeting breath,
Put off mortality, and smile in death.
May then the sacred spirit guide my way,
Thro’ the dark vale, to scenes of endless day,
Dispell the clouds, display th' eternal skies,
Bid to my view the heav'nly landscape rile,
And beckon a bright choir of angels down,
To waft me safe to my etherial crown.



LINE S occasioned by a Series of Afliction.
OW loaths my soul this forrowful abode !

How flag her pinions under life's dull load!
Nor finds content in any thing but God:
Hence longs unfetter'd to attempt the sky,
And shoot from time into eternity.
Oblissful region ! perfect joy reigns there,
No bosom feels a figh, nor eye a tear.
No need of fun by day, or moon by night,
For God himself is one eternal light.
Here gloomy clouds the horizon o'erspread,
And our hearts tremble with continual dread:
Mountains of danger in perspective lye,
Walls to be scal'd that seem to touch the sky;
Valt giants, sons of Anak to be sain ;
Yet but inquiet reft, if Canaan we obtain. Clito,

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AME, riches, honour, birth, or wit,

Nor all the sciences replete

Her noble faculties.
How vastly short the human line !

Vain ev'ry art we try!
For nothing but a pow'r divine,

Who made, can satisfy.
Let mortals then attend my theme,

1 point the way to bliss :
Abridge your wants, quit each falfe scheme,

Relign your wills to his.
For providence directs us right;

His dispensations good.
This truth is clear in reason's light,

Tho'rarely understood.
Come, resignation, fill my heart !

O dwell for ever there ! Teach me to act my destin'd part,

What can't be cur'd, to bear. Present eternity's fair face,

To chear me on the way; Or if too fast, then check

my pace,
And spur me, if I stay.
My home's on t'other side the grave,

Why should I linger here?
Since heav'n gives all the soul can crave,

There's nought to wish or fear.

A PARAPHRAS E on the 7th Chapter of the Pro

verbs. By A. B.
Y son, th' instruction that my words impart


And all the whollome precepts that I give,
Observe with strictest reverence, and live.

Let all thy homage be to wisdom paid,
Seck her protection, and implore her aid in


That she may keep thy soul from harm fecure,
And turn thy footsteps from the harlot's door,
Who, with curs'd charms, lures the unwary in,
And sooths with flattery their fouls to sin.

Once from my window as I cast mine eyeg
On those that pals'd in giddy numbers by,
A youth, among the foolish youths, I spy’d:
Who took not sacred wisdom for his guide.

Just as the fun withdrew his cooler light,
And evening soft led on the shades of night,
He stole in covert twilight to his fate,
And pass’d the corner near the harlot's gate ;
When lo, a woman comes !
Loose her attire, and fuch her glaring dressy
As aptly did the harlot's mind express :
Subtle she is, and practis'd in the arts,
By which the wanton conquer heedless hearts:
Stubborn and loud the is, she hates her home,
Varying her pface and form, she loves to roam;
Now she's within, now in the street does stray,
Now at each corner stands, and waits her prey.
The youth she feiz’d, and, laying now aside
All modefty, the female's justeft pride,
She said, with an embrace, here at


Peace-offerings are, this day 1 paid my vows.
I therefore came abroad to meet my dear,
And lo, in happy hour, I find thee here.

My chamber I've adorn'd, and o'er my bed
Are cov'rings of the richest tap'stry spread,
With linen it is deck'd from Egypt brought,
And cov’rings by the curious artist wrought;
It wants no glad perfume Arabia yields
In all her citron groves, and spicy fields ;
Here all her, sture of richest odours meets,
l'll lay thee in a wilderness of sweets.
Whatever to the sense can grateful be
I have collected there I want but thee.
My husband's gone a journey far away,
Much gold he took abroad, and long will stay :
He nam'd for his return a distant day.

Upon her tongue did such smooth mischief dwell,
And from her lips such welcome flatt’ry fell,


Y 3

Th’unguarded youth, in Gilken fetters ty'd,
Relign'd his reason, and with ease comply'd.
Thus does the ox to his own Naughter go,
And thus is fenseless of th' impending blow.
Thus flies the fimple bird into the snare,
That skilful fowlers for his life prepare.
But let my fons attend. Attend may they
Whom youthful vigour may to fin betray;
Let them false charmers fly, and guard their hearts
Against the wily wanton's pleasing arts ;
With care direct their steps, nor turn astray
To tread the paths of her deceitful way;
Lest they too late of her fell power complain,
And fall, where many mightier have been lain.

PARAPHRASE upon the HYMN of St. Am

By Mr. Oldham.


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Othee, O God, we thy just praises sing,

To thee, we thy great Name rehearse :
We are thy vassals, and this humble tribute bring
To thee, acknowledg'd only Lord and King,
Acknowledg'd fole and fov'reign monarch of the universe.

All parts of this wide universe adore,
Eternal Father, thy almighty power ;
The skies, and stars, fire, air, and earth, and sea,

With all their num'rous, nameless progeny,
Confess, and their due homage pay to thee !
For why thou spak'st the word, and madest them all

from nothing be.
To thee all angels, all thy glorious court on high,
Seraph and cherub, the nobility,

And whatsoever fpirits be
Of lesser honour, lesș degree ;

To thee, in heav'nly lays,
They fing loud anthems of immortal praise :
Still holy, holy, holy Lord of Holts, they cry;

This is their bus'ness, this their fole employ, And thus they spend their long, and blest eternity.

II. Farther than nature's utmost shores and limits stretch,

The streams of thy unbounded glory reach ;

Beyond the straits of scanty time, and place, Beyond the ebbs and lows of matter's narrow feas They reach, and fill the ocean of eternity, and space.

Infus'd like fome vaft mighty soul,
Thou dost inform, and actuate, this spacious whole:
Thy unseen hand does the well jointed frame sustain,
Which else would to its prim'tive nothing fhrink again.

But most, thou dost thy Majesty display,
In the bright realms of everlasting day:
There is thy residence, there dost thou reign,
There, on a feat of dazling lustre, fit,
There, shine in robes of pure refined light,

Where fun's coarse rays are but a foil and stain,
And refuse stars the sweepings of thy glorious train.

There all thy family of menial faints,

Huge colonies of bless'd inhabitants,
Which death thro' countless ages has transplanted hence ;

Now on thy throne for ever wait, And fill the large retinue of thy heav'nly state. There rev'rend prophets stand, a pompous, goodly show, Of old thy envoys-extraordinary here, Who brought thy facred embaffies of peace and war. That, to tħ obedient, this, the rebel-world below.

By them, the mighty twelve, have their abode,
Companions once of the incarnat fuff'ring God.

Partakers now of all his triumphs there,
As they on earth did in his mis’ries share.
Of martyrs next, a crown'd and glorious choir,

Illustrious heroes, who have gain'd,
Thro' dangers, and red seas of blood, the promis'd land,
And pass thro' ordeal flames to thy eternity in fire.
There, all make up the confort of thy praise,

To thee they sing, and never ceale,
Loud hymns and Hallelujahs of applause :
An angel-laureat does the sense, and strains compose,


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