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MAN WAS MADE TO MOURN.
When chill November's surly blast
Made fields and forests bare,
Along the banks of Ayr,
Seem'd weary, worn with care;
And hoary was his hair.
whither wanderest thou?
Or youthful pleasure's rage?
Too soon thou hast began
The miseries of man!
The sun that overhangs yon moors,
Out-spreading far and wide,
A haughty lordling's pride;
Twice forty times return;
That man was made to mourn.
O man! while in thy early years,
How prodigal of time! Mispending all thy precious hours;
Thy glorious youthful prime! Alternate follies take the sway;
Licentious passions burn; Which tenfold force gives Nature's law,
That. man was made to mouru.
Look not alone on youthful prime,
Or manhood's active might;
Supported is his right :
With cares and sorrows worn,
Show man was made to mourn.
A few seem favourites of fate,
In pleasure's lap carest ;
Are likewise truly blest.
Are wretched and forlorn !
That man was made to mourn.
Many and sharp the numerous ills
Inwoven with our frame! More pointed still we make ourselves,
Regret, remorse, and shame! And man, whose heaven-erected face
The smiles of love adorn, Man's inhumanity to man
Makes countless thousands mourn.
See yonder poor, o'erlabour'd wight,
So abject, mean, and vile, Who begs a brother of the earth
To give him leave to toil; And see his lordly fellow-worm
The poor petition spurn, Unmindful, though a weeping wife
And helpless offspring mourn.
If I'm desigu'd yon lordling's slave
By Nature's law design'dWhy was an independent wish
Ere planted in my mind ?
His cruelty or scorn?
To make his fellow mourn?
Yet, let not this too much, my son,
Disturb thy youthful breast :
Is surely not the last !
Had never, sure, been born,
To comfort those that mourn.
O Death! the poor man's dearest friend,
The kindest and the best! Welcome the hour my aged limbs
Are laid with thee at rest! The great, the wealthy, fear thy blow,
From pomp and sure torv ; But, O! a bless'd relief to those
That weary-laden mourn !
W I N T E R.
The wintry west extends his blast,
And hail and rain does blaw;
The blinding sleet and snaw :
And roars frae bank to brae; And bird and beast in covert rest,
And pass the heartless day.
“ The sweeping blast, the sky o'ercast,"
The joyless winter day,
Than all the pride of May:
My griefs it seems to join :
Their fate resembles mine!
Thou Power Supreme, whose mighty scheme
These woes of mine fulfil,
Because they are Thy will!
This one request of mine !)
Assist me to resign.
* IN THE PROSPECT OF DEATH.
O Thou unknown, Almighty Cause
Of all my hope and fear ! In whose dread presence, ere an hour,
Perhaps I must appear !
If I have wander'd in those paths
Of life I ought to shun,
Remonstrates I have done ;
Thou know'st that Thou hast formed me
With passions wild and strong ; And listening to their witching voice
Has often led me wrong.
Where human weakness has come short,
Or frailty stepp'd aside, Do thou, All Good! for such thou art,
In shades of darkness hide.
Where with intention I have err'd,
No other plea I have, But Thou art good ; and goodness still
Delighteth to forgive.