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"What Fate referv'd me for this Christian race†?
"O race more polifh'd, more fevere than they !
"Ye prowling wolves, purfue my latest cries!
"Thou hungry tiger, leave thy reeking den!
"Ye fandy waftes, in rapid eddies rife!

"O tear me from the whips and fcorns of men! "Yet in their face fuperior beauty glows:

"Are fmiles the mein of rapine and of wrong? "Yet from their lip the voice of mercy flows,

"And e'en religion dwells upon their tongue.

"Of blissful haunts they tell, and brighter climes,

"Where gentle minds, convey'd by death, repair: "But ftain'd with blood, and crimson'd o'er with crimes, "Say, fhall they merit what they paint so fair?

"No, careless, hopeless, of those fertile plains, "Rich by our toils, and by our forrows gay, "They ply our labours, and enhance our pains, "And feign these distant regions to repay.

"For them our tusky elephant expires;

"For them we drain the mine's embowel'd gold, "Where rove the brutal nation's wild defires?

"Our limbs are purchas'd, and our life is fold! ́ "Yet fhores there are, blefs'd fhores, for us remain, "And favour'd ifles, with golden fruitage crown'd, " Where tufted flow'rets paint the verdant plain, "Where ev'ry breeze fhall med'cine ev'ry wound: "There the ftern tyrant that embitters life,

"Shall, vainly fuppliant, spread his asking hand; "There shall we view, the billow's raging ftrife, "Aid the kind breast, and waft his boat to land."

+ Spoke by a Savage.



THE weftern fky was purpled o'er

With ev'ry pleasing ray,
And flocks reviving felt no more
The fultry heats of day.

When from an azle's artless bower

Soft warbled Strephon's tongue; He bleft the fcene, he bleft the hour, While Nancy's praise he sung.

"Let fops with fickle falfhood range "The paths of wanton love,

"While weeping maids lament their change,

"And fadden ev'ry grove:

"But endless bleffings crown the day

"I faw fair E'fham's dale!

"And ev'ry bleffing find its way

"To Nancy of the Vale!

"'Twas from Avona's banks the maid

"Diffus'd her lovely beams, "And ev'ry fhining glance display'd

"The Naiad of the ftreams.

"Soft as the wild-duck's tender young,

"That float on Avon's tide, "Bright as the water-lily, fprung,

"And glitt'ring near its fide.

Fresh as the bord'ring flow'rs her bloom,

"Her eye all mild to view;


The little halcyon's azure plume
"Was never half fo blue.

"Her fhape was like the reed fo fleek,
"So taper, ftraight, and fair;

"Her dimpled fmile, her blushing cheek,
"How charming fweet they were !

"Far in the winding vale retir'd,
"This peerless bud I found,

"And fhadowing rocks and woods confpir'd
"To fence her beauties round.

"That Nature in fo lone a dell

"Should form a nymph fo fweet!
"Or Fortune to her fecret cell
"Conduct my wand'ring feet!

"Gay lordlings fought her for their bride,
"But he would ne'er incline:
"Prove to your equals true, (she cry'd,)
"As I will prove to mine.

"Tis Strephon, on the mountain's brow,
"Has won my right good will :
"To him I gave my plighted vow,

"With him I'll climb the hill.

"Struck with her charms and gentle truth,

"I clafp'd the constant fair; "To her alone I gave my youth,

"And vow my future care.

"And when this vow shall faithless prove,

"Or I thofe charms forego,

"The ftream that faw our tender love,

"That ftream fhall ceafe to flow."



Audita voces, vagitus et ingens,
Infantumque animæ flentes in limine primo.

AH me! full forely is my heart forlorn,


To think how modeft worth neglected lies,
While partial Fame doth with her blast adorn,
Such deeds alone as pride and pomp disguise,
Deeds of ill fort, and mifchievous emprize :
Lend me thy clarion, Goddess! let me try
To found the praise of Merit ere it dies,
Such as I oft have chaunced to efpy
Loft in the dreary fhades of dull obfcurity.
In ev'ry village, mark'd with little spire,
Embower'd in trees, and hardly known to Fame,
There dwells, in lonely shed and mean attire,
A matron old, whom we School-mistress name,
Who boafts unruly brats with birch to tame;
They grieven fore, in piteous durance pent,
Aw'd by the power of this relentless dame,
And oft times, on vagaries idly bent,

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For unkempt hair, or task unconn'd, arc forely fhent,
And all in fight doth rise a birchen tree,
Which Learning near her little dome did ftowe,
Whilom a twig of small regard to fee,

Though now fo wide its waving branches flow,
And work the fimple vaffals mickle woe;

For not a wind might curl the leaves that blew,

But their limbs fhudder'd, and their pulfe beat low,
And, as they look'd, they found their horror grew,
And fhap'd it into rods, and tingled at the view.
So have I feen (who has not may conceive)
A lifeless phantom near a garden plac'd ;
So doth it wanton birds of peace bereave,
Of fport, of fong, of pleasure, of repast;
They ftart, they ftare, they wheel, they look aghaft;
Sad fervitude! fuch comfortless annoy

May no bold Briton's riper age e'er taste,
Ne fuperftition clog his dance of joy,
Ne vifion empty, vain, his native blifs deftroy.
Near to this dome is found a patch fo green,
On which the tribe their gambols do display,
And at the door impris'ning board is feen,
Left weakly wights of smaller fize should stray,
Eager, perdie, to bask in funny day!
The noifes intermix'd, which thence refound,
Do Learning's little tenement betray,

Where fits the dame, disguis'd in look profound,
And eyes her fairy throng, and turns her wheel around.
Her cap, far whiter than the driven fnow,
Emblem right meet of decency does yield;
Her apron, dy'd in grain, as blue, I trowe,
As is the hare-bell that adorns the field;
And in her hand, for fceptre, fhe doth wield
Tway birchen sprays, with anxious fear entwin'd,
With dark diftruft and fad repentance fill'd,

And steadfast hate, and fharp affliction join'd,

And fury uncontroul'd, and chastisement unkind.

Few but have kenn'd, in femblance meet pourtray'd,
The childish faces of old ol's train,

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