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When the grave houshold round his hall repair,
Warn’d by a bell, and close the day with pray'r.

At length the world, renew'd by calm repose,
Was strong for toil; the dappled morn arose;
Before the pilgrims part, the younger crept
Near the clos'd cradle where an infant slept,
And writh'd his neck: the landlord's little pride,
O ftrange return! grew black, and garp'd, and dy'd.
Horror of horrors ! what! his only fon?
How look'd our Hermit when the fact'was done?
Not Hell, though Hell's black jaws in sunder part,
And breathe blue fire, could more affault his heart,

Confus’d, and struck with silence at the deed, He fies; but, trembling, fails to fly with speed. His steps the youth pursues ; the country lay Perplex'd with"roads, a servant shew'd the way : A river cross’d the path ; the passage o'er

as nice to find ; the servant trod before :Long arms of oaks an open bridge supply'd, And deep the waves beneath the bending glide. The youth, who seem'd to watch a time to fin, Approach'd the careless guide, and thrust him in : Plunging he falls, and rising lifts his head; Then flashing turns, and finks among the dead.

Wild sparkling rage inflames the father's eyes; He bursts the bands of fear, and madly cries, “ Detested wretch !”_But scarce his speech began, When the strange partner seem'd no longer man : His youthful face grew more serenely sweet; His robe turn'd white, and fow'd upon his feet ; Fair rounds of radiant points infes his hair ; Celestial' odours breathe through purpled air :

And wings, whose colours glitt'red on the day,
Wide at his back their gradual plumes display.
The form ethereal bursts upon his fight,
And moves in all the majesty of light.

Though loud at first the Pilgrim's pallion grew,
Sudden he gaz'd, and wist not what to do ;
Surprise in secret chains his words suspends,
And in a calm bis settling temper ends.
But filence here the beauteous Angel broke,
(The voice of music ravish'd as he spoke :)

• Thy pray’r, thy praise, thy life to vice unknown,
In sweet memorial rise before the thronę:
These charms success in our bright region find,
And force an ángel down to calm thy mind;
For this commision'd I forsook the sky
Nay, cease to kneel !—thy fellow-fervant I.

· Then know the truth of government Divine, And let these fcruples be no longer thine.

• The Maker juftly claims that'world he made,
In this the right of Providence is laid ;
Its facred Majesty through all depends
On using second means to work his ends ;
'Tis thus, withdrawn in ftate from human eye,
The Pow'r excris his attributes on high ;
Your actions uses, nor controuls your will,
And bids the doubting fons of men be still.

• What strange events can strike with more surprise,
Than those which lately struck thy wond'ring eyes?
Yet taught by these, confess th' Almighty juft ;
And where you can't unriddle, learn to trust.

• The great vain man, who far'd on costly food, Whose life was too luxurious to be good;

Who made his iv'ry stands with goblets fine,
And forc'd his guests to morning draughts of wine ;
Has, with the cup, the graceless custom loft,
And still he welcomes but with less of coft,

• The mean suspicious wretch, whose bolted door
Ne'er mov'd in pity to the wand'ring poor,
With him I left the cup, to teach his mind
That Heav'n can bless, if mortals will be kind.
Conscious of wanting worth, he views the bowl,
And feels compassion touch his grateful foul.
Thus artists melt the fullen ore of lead,
With heaping coals of fire upon its head ;
In the kind warınth the metal learns to glow,
And, loose frona drofs, the filver runs below.

• Long had our pious friend in virtue trod, But now the child half-wean'd his heart from God

i (Child of his age!) for him he liv'd in pain, And measur'd back his Reps to earth again. To what excesses had his dotage run ! But God to save the father took the fon. To all but thee in fits it seem'd to go; (And 'twas my ministry to deal the blow.) The poor fond parent, humbled in the dust, Now owns in tears the punishment was jutt.

But how had all his fortunes felt a wrack,
Had that false servant fped in safety back!
This night his treasur'd heaps he meant to feal;
And what a fund of charity would fail !
Thus Heav'n instructs thy mind : this trial o'er,
Depart in peace, resign, and fin no more.'

On founding pinions here the youth withdrew ; The Sage food wond'ring as the Seraph few.

Thus look'd Elisha, when, to mount on high,
His master took the chariot of the sky :
The fiery pomp afoending left the view;
The prophet gaz'd, and with’d to follow too.

The bending Hermit here a prayer begun:
Lord! as in heav'n, on earth thy will be done !
Then, gladly turning, fought his ancient place,
And pass'd a life of piety and peace.

HYMN TO CONTENTMENT,
LOVELY, lating, peace of mind!
Sweet delight of human kind!
Heav'nly born, and bred on high,
To crown the fav’rites of the sky
With more of happiness below
Than victors in a triumph know !
Whither, O wbither art thou fled,
To lay thy meek contented head !
What happy region dost thou please
To niake the seat of calms and case ?

Ambition searches all its sphere
Of poinp and state, to meet thee there:
Inereasing avarice would find
Thy presence in its gold infhrin'd:
The bold advent'rer ploughs bis way
Through rocks, amidst the foaming sea,
To gain thy love; and then perceives
Thou wert not in the rocks and waves.
The filent heart which grief affails,
Tread. soft and lonesome o'er the valoon.

Sees daisies open, rivers run,
And seeks (as I have vainly done)
Amusing thought; but learns to know
That folitude's the nurse of woe.
No real happiness is found
In trailing purple o'er the ground;
Or in a soul exalted high,
To range the circuit of the sky,
Converse with stars above, and know
All nature in its forms below;
The reft it seeks, in seeking dies,
And doubts at last for knowledge rise.

Lovely, lasting Peace, appear!
This world itself, if thou art here,
Is once again with Eden blest,
And man contains it in his breaft.

'Twas thus, as under shade I stood,
I sung my wishes to the wood,
And lost in thought no more perceiv'd
The branches whisper as they way'd:
It feem'd, as all the quiet place
Confess’d the presence of the Grace,
When thus the spoke-Go, rule thy will,
Bid thy wild passions all be still;
Know God--and bring thy heart to know
The joys which from religion flow :
Then ev'ry grace thall prove its guest,
And I'll be there to crown the rest,

Oh! by yonder mosfy feat,
In my hours of sweet retreat,
Might I thus my soul employ,
With sense of gratitude and joy :

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