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The little all we here can find,
But thou wilt burst this transient sleep,
pang of unrequited love.
Oh! could a father's prayer repel
Sleep on, my child; the slumber brief
Fountain of hopes and doubts and fears!
TO MRS. M. B. On, be thou bless'd with all that Heaven can send, Long health, long youth, long pleasure, and a friend! Not with those toys the female world admire, Riches that vex, and vanities that tire. With added years, if life bring nothing new, But like a sieve let every blessing through, Some joy still lost, as each vain year runs o'er, And all we gain, some sad reftection more ;Is that a birth-day ? 't is, alas, too clear, 'Tis but the funeral of the former year. Let joy or ease, let affluence or content, And the gay conscience of a life well-spent, Calm every thought, inspirit every grace, Glow in thy heart, and smile upon thy face. Let day improve on day, and year on year, Without a pain, a trouble, or a fear; Till death unfelt that tender frame destroy, In some soft dream or ecstasy of joy. Peaceful sleep out the sabbath of the tomb, And wake to raptures in a life to come.
LET fate do her worst; there are relics of joy, Bright dreams of the past, which she cannot de.
stroy ; And which come in the night-time of sorrow and
care, To bring back the features that joy used to wear. Long, long be my heart with such memories filled, Like the vase in which roses have once been dis
tilted; You may break, you may ruin the vase, if you will, But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.
AS O'ER THE PAST MY
As o'er the past my memory strays,
Why heaves the secret sigh?
Still unprepared to die.
My anxious thoughts employed,
Presents a fearful void.
Yet, Holy Father! wild despair
Chase from my laboring breast;
That grace can do the rest.
And when thy sure decree