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But from a world of mifery and care,
To mansions of eternal ease repair:

Where joy in full perfection flows,
No interruption, no ceffation knows,
But in a mighty circle round for ever goes.

FRIENDSHIP in Perfection. By the Chevalier RAMSAY, author of the Travels of CYRUS..

YE

Philander.

E glowing feraphs that now breathe above,
In that pure el'ment of untainted love,
Where clasping round each other ye're entwin'd,
As if ye were but one compounded mind;

Can ye ftoop down to tell me what's the name
Of that pure love which in your orb does flame?
Is't ever here below, or all above?

Can mortal paffions fuel fuch a love?

Strephon.

Can mortal paffions fuel fuch a love!`

What means my dear PHILANDER thus to rove!
Rip up, untwine my foul, and then you'll fee
What chrystal streams of friendship glide thro' me;
Unravel this my foul, and then you'll know,
That love can find another way to flow,
Than in feraphic chanels: here's the foul
That moves in friendship's orb without controul.
Philander.

Words spoke with fuch a passion do display
A foul pegg'd over high that cannot stay
On fuch a bended stretch: the tide's too high,
"Twill burst the banks ere long, and foon run dry.
Strephon.

My love's my foul, and that from fate is free:
"Tis that unchang'd and deathlefs part of me.
My paffion ftands fecure; the Pow'rs above
Muft fift annihilate my foul, and then my love.
Philander.

But ah! dear STREPHON, granting this were true,
It won't be long ere death part me from you.
By what mark then fhall we each other know,
When ftript to naked fouls we leave this ball below?

Stres

Strephon.

I'll tell thee what I'll do, fhould fate deny
To let me take thee with me when I die;
I will fufpend my blifs, not wing away
Unto the feats of that eternal day:

But left that I should lose thee in the croud,
Stop fhort of heav'n, I'd wait thee in a cloud.
Philander.

Oh no! dear STREPHON, that you cannot do,
Your guardian angels won't such stops allow:
The Chorus that's above will long to fee
A foul like yours t'accent their harmony.
Strephon.

away

Well, granting it were so, I'd steal
When they diffolv'd in Hallelujahs lay:

Yes, flip beyond the fkreen, leave their bleft company,
Forfake the feraphs to converse with thee.
Thus turtle-like to my dear mate I'll fly,
And down before thee in the fun-beams play.
Then teaching thee all that I learn'd above,
Anent the feraphs friendship and their love;
I'd charm thy foul, it fhould take wing and fly
Beyond the dull confinements of the sky,
And turn all light, all love, as well as Ï.

Divine FRIENDSHIP. By the fame author.

W

EARY'D of earth and all its empty joys,

Its vain amusements and tumultous noife;
Difgufted of this world and all below,
I fought fome lonely Thade to vent my woe:
I wander'd long, and ran from plain to plain,
Ere I the bleft retirement could obtain.
Breathless at last and spent, I spy'd a cave,
Dark as my thoughts, and filent as the grave.
Thither with fighs I bent my feeble pace,
And, bending down, lay proftrate on my face.
Then with repeated groans I thus began
To vent my griefs, just like the dying fwan.
O SOVEREIGN beauty, boundless source of love,
From thee I'm fprung, to thee again I move,

Like

Like fome fmall gleam of light, fome feeble ray,
That loft itfelf by wand'ring from the day;
Or fome eclips'd, fome faint and straggling beam,
That fain would wrestle back from whence it came.
So I, poor banish'd I, oft strive to flee

Thro' this dark maze of nothing up to Thee.
But ah! the way's too steep, th' ascent too high,
For pinions clogg'd with dull mortality:
That tho' I clap my wings and strive with pain,
Yet ftill I flutter and fall down again.

Like fome finall purling riv❜let on the way,
That chides and murmurs 'caufse it went altray;
That creeps and glides and wanders o'er the plain,
And thinks at laft to wrestle back again.

But ah! fome rocky path, fome craggy way
Retards its motion, and commands its stay.
Languifht and stopt it wanders here and there,
And on its flinty couch drops down a tear :
Then fighs and wishes that fome kinder rill,
Some friendly ftream would its dry channels fill,
That both enwarpt in one, their ebbing tide
Might be renew'd, and they together glide
Home to their fource again, and thenee no more divide..
So I, poor I, pant for a virtuous friend,

Whose chafte embraces might fome comfort lend;
A foul all burning and confum'd with love,

That he might my dim light to tap'ring flames improve;
A pure, a fweet, a conftant gen'rous mind,

From all the bafer dregs of vice refin'd;

That he might calm the ftorms that tols my breast,
And whisper all my paffions into rest.

Like two fond turtles how should we combine,
And mixing fouls with fouls together join!
How nimble then would all our motions be,
When with united strokes we fail'd to Thee?

Like two finall murm'ring ftreams how would we glide,
Augment each others paffions, fwell the tide,
And clafpt together run, ftill forward move,
Till we were loft in Thee the fource of love!
How would we lye in fome close filent grove,
Breathing to heav'n, and all diffolv'd in love!

No

No bafer paffions fhould our calms moleft,
No crim❜nal muddy thoughts invade our breast.
Our pureft love should blaze fo bright a flame,
That ev'n in heav'n they might be still the fame.
Our harmless dove-like fouls would fo embrace,
That we might gaze on love's majestic face;
Look up to heaven and fay, behold us here,
How pure's our friendship, how ferene and clear?
'Tis not a bait for fin, no artifice

To vail our lufts, or to incense our vice.

How would we far from earth's vain noise and strife,
Drag foftly round this pond'rous chain of life?
Thro' all its changing scenes how should we move,
Unchang'd and undivided in our love!

When black-brow'd tempests should begin to frown,
And tofs our leaky vessel up and down,
Then how would we, without envy or strife,
By turns lye fweating at the pump of life!
Now he, then I, fhould tug the painful oar,
Till fome kind blast should caft us on the fhore.
Again, when all the storms were lull'd asleep,
And the hush'd waves lay flatted o'er the deep;
Then we should steer our course ferenely on,
Till the spent grains of our long glass were done.
At last when Thou should strike and give the blow,
Beat down this cottage, call us from below,

How would we kils thy hand and bid thee pierce us
That we might be unfetter'd and set free

From all the clogs that keep us down from Thee?
O! had I such a friend, such a seraphic mate,
How happy would I be ! how blest my fate!
'Tis true, could I with pleasure upward move
To Thee my best of friends, my life, my love;
I would not court fuch helps, I would not care
Tho' all were defarts, and no comforts near.
But ah! fince thou cannot converse with
While at fuch diftance I'm remov'd from Thee:
While thus impure and funk in mifery,

I bend and grone beneath mortality.

me,

O! therefore grant, O! don't my wish controul,
But let me have fome pure, fome virtuous foul,

F

[thro',

That

That we may burn together, both together flame,
Glide back to Thee our fountain in one common stream.

The Tow'ring WV IS H. By the fame Author.

GOD, filence my paffions, calm their noise ;
Then fpeak within, and let thy heav'nly voice

Breathe on my foul, in filent whispers show
What reafon's puny pratting ne'er can do.
Renew, refine my temper, and impart
A foft and gentle sweetness to my heart ;
All infant-like, a plain ingenuous mind
That's not by fly nor fubtile arts refin'd.
Give me a heart which pure humility

Hath pierc'd, and crufh'd, and turn'd from all that's high;
A heart which penitence hath broken so,
Hath levell'd to the dust, and funk fo low
That down beneath the meaneft it can bow.
A heart all fill'd with love, whose flame afcends
First up to Thee, then turns and downward bends
To all those infant fimple fouls that be
Diffolv'd and purg'd in the fame flames with me;
A heart that's all submissive, calm and sweet,
And with a heav'nly mildness fo replete
That no cross felf-will'd stiffnefs it can fhow,
But all its own defires ftill break and bow.
A heart whofe outward vigilance declares
Its inward labours, fecret fweats and cares ;
A heart whose sprightly motions upward show
How bright its flame, how fwift its paffions flow;
A fober modeft heart, from bluft'ring free,
Whofe fteady motions foft and filent be.

A heart that's ftript of all, which nought can move,
But only thou and thy diviner love.

This is the utmost height of my defires,
The tow'ring wish to which my foul afpires;
Thefe are my last requests, O let me have
What with fuch ardent paffionate fighs I crave.

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