A FRAGMENT,
Written in the Spring.
[From Fawcett's Poems.]
HOU dazzling ball! vast universe of flame t Idol fublime! Error's mott glorious god! Whose peerless splendours plead in the excufe Of him that worships thee, and fhine away The fin of pagan knees! whofe awful orb, Though truth informs my more enlightened creed, Almost entices my o'er-ravished heart To turn idolater, and tempts my mouth To kifs my hand before thee. Nature's pride! Of matter most magnificent display!
Bright masterpiece of dread omnipotence!
Ocean of splendour! wondrous world of lights!
Thy fweet return my kindled lays falute.
Hail, amiable vifion! every eye
Looks up and loves thee; every tongue proclaims, 'Tis pleasant to behold thee; rofy health,
And laughing joy, thy beauteous daughters, play
Before thy face for ever, and rejoice
In thine indulgent ray. Nature mourns
Thine annual departure; in despair,
Like one forfaken by her love, the fits,
And tears from off her all her gay attire,
VOL. VII.
G
And drowns her face in tears, and languid lies,
As if of life devoid: but lo, the lives:
She lives again! her glorious rover comes,
To wake her from her lethargy of woe,
And warm her into beauty with his smile.
Fountain of infpiration! fir'd by thee,
Imagination's facred tumults rife,
And pour upon the fair, immortal page,
The fplendid image and the burning word!
Oh hallow'd hour! o'erflowing with delight!
Moments of more than earthly ecstasy!
When the bleft bard, panting beneath thy rays,
Feels the fine rapture filently infus'd
Into his agitated breaft; and full
Of his bright god, with lofty fury raves,
Celestially disturb'd! till the ftrong flames,
That his whole foul to heavenly madness heat,
Have spent their blaze in all the rage of song I
Great conflagration! whofe immortal fires,
With myftic, everlasting fuel fed,
Flame with a generous fury, flame to spread
Far other scene than smoking ruin round,
Fair flowers and smiling verdure, fields that wave
With yellow wealth, and boughs that stoop beneath
Their blushing load, with affluence oppreft!
Great Father of the fyftem! round whofe throne,
In filial circles all thy children shine,
Exulting in thy kind, paternal fmile!
Well-order'd family! for ever free
From jarring ftrife; harmonious moving on
In eafy dance; and calling human life
To lift the mufic of your filent glide,
And make its focial fyftem chime like yours.
Preceptors fweet of concert and of love!
Had but this noisy scene an ear to learn.
Or is thy name, the ftudent's facred lamp,
Hung up on high, and trimm'd by heaven's own hand?
By whofe pure light, more, precious to his eye,
Than that which trembles on his nightly page,
(Man's puny tome,) with filent joy he reads
The broad, inftructive sheet, which thou haft held,
All wife instructor! to thy pupil man,
Through every age. Invaluable book!
In schools unrival'd, though but little read!
Fair, faultless piece! immortal work of heaven L
Bible of ages! boundless word of God!
Writ in a language to all nations known;
And, through all time, with care divine, preferv'd
From all corrupt interpolations pure.
(To be concluded in our next.)
ISING majestic o'er this humbler orb,
On pinions borrow'd from the realm of light,
The bright-ey'd monarch's golden beams abforb
Each tear, diftil'd from winter's parting night.
Fair spring, with gentle finger, deals again
Her infant beauties to the bufied year;
Deep glooms receding from the scatter'd plain,
Proclaim th' approach of rosier seasons near.
Where the fad mourner reads, with penfive eye,
Her lover's fate amid the fleeping wave;
The fountain's current breathes a tinkling figh,
In liquid foftness, from its marble cave.
Now pencil'd shapes of latent bloom appear,
And nature blends each harsh and soft'ning fhade;
The foft-rob'd heav'ns, through clouds ferenely clear,
Diffuse mild luftre o'er each fylvan glade.
Hark! the fweet gale which fans the eastern grove,
Whofe pines o'ershade the verdure-fringed steep;
Dies in wild murmurs as the waters move,
With filver face, towards their kindred deep. If Providence frame a harmony so pure
'Twixt objects form'd to charm the mortal eye, How chaîte a harmony fhall he fecure To the fair fpirits of a happier sky!
THE ORPHAN.
De Reafon of
Ere Reason dawn'd, or paffion fwell'd my soul, Compell'd, unfhelter'd, adverse storms to bear, Devoid of fuccour, and without controul.
Oft for relief relations rich I fought,
And urg'd my kindred ties, my state diftrefs'd;
But found their bofoms with no pity fraught-
For fordid int'reft charity fupprefs'd.
Hard is the lot of him whom heav'n ordains
To never use th' endearing name of fire;
He to the world, of cold neglect complains,
Unheeded oft, and oft reprefs'd with ire.
The voice of mirth, gay labour's artless lay,
In fair luxuriance nature's beauties drefs'd,
Each scene of youthful innocence at play,
Gave pangs peculiar to my hapless breaft.
And when I view'd the neat-clad free-school train,
With facred volume plac'd beneath their arms,
Bending their steps toward fome holy fane,
To be inftructed in religion's charms:
The iron-hand of fate I then deplor'd,
That, barrier'd, kept me from the light of truth;
Whilft fame of pen'ry's fons were amply stor'd
With useful learning, in the dawn of youth.
But I from mis'ry found no genial home,
To fcorn's keen infults, harfh rebuke expos'd;
Impell'd for fuftenance each day to roam,
And then at eve in fome lone hut repos'd.
And oft I ftretch'd my fupplicating hand,
Whilft the big tear ftood tremb'ling in my eyė¡~~~
Fainting for food, and urg'd by want's command
I ask'd compaffion from the paffers by.
Thus long untutor'd, fave in fuppliant arts,
The gems of knowledge were to me unknown; I knew no joy that science fair, imparts,
Nor in my breast were moral precepts fown.
Three years revolv'd in this uncertain state,
'Till heav'n, in pity, rais'd a friend benign,
The good Acafto heard my adverfe fate,
Who neʼer, unpity'd, saw the hapless pine.
His gen'rous aid my youthful breaft fecur'd,
From chilling want and defolating care,
To knowledge, arts, and virtue, he allur'd,
And bade me vices hate, which health impair.
As Reafon dawn'd, the fhades of ignorance fled,
And cheering profpects then appear'd to view,
Gay fancy fairy fcenes of blifs pourtray'd,
And hope bade me th' inviting paths pursue.
Steep is the gradual rife to fortune's fane,
And ruffian cares befet the mazy way,
And fell detraction, life's unconquer'd bane,
And ruthless envy give the breaft dismay.
Aided by virtue, perfeverance, health-
Succefs awaited on my efforts ftrong,
Smooth was the road that led to fame and wealth,
And vain th' allurements of the vicious throng.
And now on me propitious fortune fmiles,
And ev'ry paft corroding care repays,―
Content and competence reward my toils,
And give me leisure to attune my lays.
Hail! bleft benevolence, friend to pen'ry, hail!
Whofe feeling bofom melts at human woe;
Who, over human foibles throws a veil,
And mak'ft the languid heart of forrow glow.
To thy all-potent aid I blissful stand,
Rais'd from the drear abyfs of deep distressOh! may thy gen'rous fpirit prompt my hand, The victims of defpair and want to blefs.
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