The Glory of Truth,

'Tis heav'n, all heav'n, descending on the wings
Of the glad legions of the King of kings;
'Tis more 'tis God diffus'd through ev'ry part,
'Tis God himself triumphant in his heart!
Oh, welcome now the sun's once hated light,
His noon-day beams were never half so bright.
Nor kindred minds alone are call'd t' employ
Their hours, their days, in list'ning to his joy;
Unconscious nature, all that he surveys,

Rocks, groves, and streams, must join him in his praise.

These are thy glorious works, eternal truth,
The scoff of wither'd age and beardless youth;
These move the censure and illib'ral grin

Of fools that hate thee and delight in sin :
But these shall last when night has quench'd the pole,

And heav'n is all departed as a scroll:

And when, as justice has long since decreed,

This earth shall blaze, and a new world succeed,

Then these thy glorious works, and they who share That hope which can alone exclude despair,

and the Merit of uniting Delight with moral Improvement.

Shall live exempt from weakness and decay, the brightest wonders of an endless day.

Happy the bard, (if that fair name belong To him that blends no fable with his song) Whose lines, uniting, by an honest art, The faithful monitor's and poet's part, Seek to delight, that they may mend mankind, And, while they captivate, inform the mind: Still happier, if he till a thankful soil, And fruit reward his honourable toil: But happier far, who comfort those that wait To hear plain truth at Judah's hallow'd gate. Their language simple, as their manners meek, No shining ornaments have they to seek; Nor labour they, nor time, nor talents, waste, In sorting flow'rs to suit a fickle taste; But, while they speak the wisdom of the skies, Which art can only darken and disguise, Th' abundant harvest, recompense divine, Repays their work-the gleaning only mine.

CHARITY.

Qua nihil majus meliusve terris
Fata donavere, boniq; divi,

Nec dabunt, quamvis redeant in aurum
Tempora priscum.

HOR. Lib. IV. Ode 2.

4

FAIREST and foremost of the train, that wait
On man's most dignified and happiest state,
Whether we name thee Charity or love,
Chief grace below, and all in all above,
Prosper (I press thee with a pow'rful plea)
A task I venture on, impell'd by thee:
Oh, never seen but in thy blest effects,
Or felt but in the soul that heav'n selects;

The Benevolence of Charity.

Who seeks to praise thee, and to make thee known
So other hearts, must have thee in his own.
Come, prompt me with benevolent desires,
Teach me to kindle at thy gentle fires,
And, though disgrac'd and slighted, to redeem
A poet's name, by making thee the theme.
God, working ever on a social plan,

By various ties attaches man to man:
He made at first, though free and unconfin'd,
One man the common father of the kind;

That ev'ry tribe, though placed as he sees best,
Where seas or deserts part them from the rest,
Diff'ring in language, manners, or in face,
Might feel themselves allied to all the race.
When Cook-lamented, and with tears as just
As ever mingled with heroic dust-

Steer'd Britain's oak into a world unknown,
And in his country's glory sought his own,
Wherever he found man, to nature true,
The rights of man were sacred in his view,

Philanthropy of Captain Cook.

He sooth'd with gifts, and greeted with a smile,
The simple native of the new-found isle ;
He spurn'd the wretch that slighted or withstood
The tender argument of kindred blood,

Nor would endure that any should controul
His free-born brethren of the southern pole.
But, though some nobler minds a law respect,
That none shall with impunity neglect,

In baser souls unnumber'd evils meet,

To thwart its influence, and its end defeat.
While Cook is lov'd for savage lives he sav'd,

See Cortez odious for a world enslav'd!

Where wast thou then, sweet Charity? where then, Thou tutelary friend of helpless men?

Wast thou in monkish cells and nunn'ries found, Or building hospitals on English ground?

No.-Mammon makes the world his legatee Through fear, not love; and heav'n abhors the fee. Wherever found, (and all men need thy care) Nor age nor infancy could find thee there,