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THE

MORNING DREAM,

'Twas in the glad season of spring,

Asleep at the dawn of the day,
I dream'd what I cannot but fing,

So pleasant it seem'd as I lay.
I dream'd that on ocean afloat,

Far hence to the westward I saild, While the billows high-lifted the boat,

And the fresh-blowing breeze never fail'd.

In the steerage a woman I saw,

Such at least was the form that she wore, Whose beauty impress'd me with awe,

Ne'er taught me by woman before. She sat, and a shield at her side

Shed light like a sun on the waves, And smiling divinely, the cry'd

" I go to make Freemen of Slaves.".

Then raising her voice to a strain

The sweetest that ear ever heard,
She sung of the Nave's broken chain

Wherever her glory appear'd.
Some clouds which had over us hung

Fled, chas’d by her melody clear, And methought while she liberty sung,

'Twas liberty only to hear.

Thus swiftly dividing the flood,

To a lave-cultur'd island we came, Where a demon, her enemy, stood

Oppression his terrible name.
In his hand, as the sign of his sway,

A scourge hung with lashes he bore, And stood looking out for his prey

From Africa's forrowful shore.

But soon as approaching the land

That goddess-like woman he view'd, The scourge he let fall from his hand,

With blood of his subjects imbrued. I saw him both ficken and die,

And the moment the monster expir'd Heard fhouts that ascended the sky

From thousands with rapture inspir’d.

Awaking, how could I but muse

At what such a dream should betide ? But soon my ear caught the glad news

Which serv'd my weak thought for a guide That Britannia, renown'd o'er the waves

For the hatred the ever has shown To the black-fceptred rulers of Naves,

Resolves to have none of her own..

V E R S ES

Printed at the Bottom of the

Y EARLY BILL OF MORTALITY

OF THE TOWN OF NORTHAMPTON,

Dec. 21, 1787.

Pallida Mars æquo pulsat pede pauperum tabernas
Regumque turres.
Pale Death with equal foot strikes wide the door
of royal halls and hovels of the poor..

WHILE thirteen moons saw smoothly run

The Nen's barge-laden wave,
All these, life's rambling journey done,

Have found their home the grave.

328

YLARLY BILL OF MORTALITY.

Was man (frail always) made more frail

Than in foregoing years ?
Did famine, or did plague prevail,

That so much death appears ?

No; these were vigorous as their Gres,

Nor plague nor famine came; This annual tribute Death requires,

And never waves his claim.

Like crowded forest trees we stand,

And some are mark'd to fall;
The axe will smite at God's command,

And foon shall smite us all.

Green as the bay-tree, ever green,
With its new foliage on,

the thoughtless, have I feen;
I pass’dand they were gone.

The gay,

Read, ye that run, the awful truth

With which I charge my page; A worm is in the bud of youth, As

4 at the root of age.

No present health can health insure

For yet an hour to come;
No med’cine, though it often cure,

Can always balk the tomb.

And oh! that (humble as my lot,

And scorn'd as is my strain *) These truths, though known, too much forgot,

I may not teach in vain.

So prays your Clerk, with all his heart;

And, ere he quits the pen,
Begs you for once to take his part,

*And answer all Amen!

* John Cox, Parish Clerk of Northampton,

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