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TIROCINIU M.

IT is not from his form, in which we trace
Strength join’d with beauty, dignity with grace,
That man, the master of this globe, derives
His right of empire over all that lives,
That form indeed, th' affociate of a mind
Vaft in its pow'rs, ethereal in its kind,
That form, the labour of almighty skill,
Fram'd for the service of a free-born will,
Asserts precedence, and bespeaks controul,
But borrows all its grandeur from the soul.
Hers is the state, the splendour, and the throne,
An intellectual kingdom, all her own.
For her, the mem'ry fills her ample page
With truths pour'd down from ev'ry distant age ;
For her amasses an unbounded store,
The wisdom of great nations, now no more ;
L 5

Though

Though laden, not incumber'd with her fpoil,
Laborious, yet unconscious of her toil,
When copiously supplied, then most enlarg’d,
Still to be fed, and not to be surcharg’d.
For her, the fancy roving unconfin’d,
The present muse of ev'ry penfive mind,
Works magic wonders, adds a brighter hue
To nature's scenes, than nature ever knew ;
At her command, winds rise and waters roar,
Again she lays them slumbʼring on the shore,
With flow'r and fruit the wilderness supplies,
Or bids the rocks in ruder pomp arise.
For her, the judgment, umpire in the strife,
That grace and nature have to wage through

- life,
Quick-fighted arbiter of good and ill,
Appointed fage preceptor to the will,
Condemns, approves, and with a faithful voice
Guides the decision of a doubtful choice.

Why did the fiat of a God give birth
To yon fair fun, and his attendant earth;
And, when descending he resigns the skies,
Why takes the gentler moon her turn to rise,
Whom ocean feels through all his countless

waves,
And owns her pow'r on ev'ry shore he laves ?
Why do the seasons still enrich the year,
Fruitful and young as in their first career ?

Spring

Spring hangs her infant blossoms on the trees,
Rock'd in the cradle of the western breeże ;
Summer in haste the thriving charge receives
Beneath the shade of her expanded leaves,
Till autumn's fiercer heats and plenteous dews
Dye them at last in all their glowing hues-
'Twere wild profusion all, and bootless waste,
'Pow'r misemploy'd, munificence misplac’d,
Had not its Author dignified the plan,
And crown'd it with the majesty of man.
Thus form’d, thus plac’d, intelligent, and taught,
Look where he will, the wonders God has

wrought, The wildest scorner of his Maker's laws Finds in a fober moment time to pause, To press th’important question on his heart, • Why form’d at all, and wherefore as thou.

art ?” If man be what he seems, this hour a slave, The next, mere duft and athes in the grave; Endu'd with reason only to descry His crimes and follies with an aching eye: With passions just that he may prove, with pain, The force he fpends against their fury, vain ; And if, soon after having burnt, by turns, With ev'ry last with which frail nature burns, His being end where death diffolves the bond, The tomb take all, and all be blank beyond ;

Then

Then he, of all that nature has brought forth, Stands felf-impeach'd the creature of least worth, And useless while he lives; and when he dies, Brings into doubt the wisdom of the skies. Truths that the learn'd pursue with eager

thought, Are not important always as dear-bought, Proving at last, though told in pompous strains, A childish waste of philofophic pains ; But truths on which depends our main concern, That 'tis our shame and mis’ry not to learn, Shine by the fide of ev'ry path we tread With such a lustre, he that runs may read. 'Tis true, that if to trifle life away Down to the sun-set of their latest day, Then perish on futurity's wide shore Like fleeting exhalations, found no more, Were all that Heav'n requir’d of human kind, And all the plan their destiny design'd, What none could rev’rence all might justly

blame, And man would breathe but for his Maker's

shame,
But reason heard, and nature well perus’d,
At once the dreaming mind is disabus’d.
If all we find poffefling earth, sea, air,
Reflect his attributes who plac'd them there,
Fulfil the purpose, and appear design'd
Proofs of the wisdom of th' all seeing mind,

Tis

'Tis plain, the creature whom he chose t'invest
With kingship and dominion o'er the rest,
Receiv'd his nobler nature, and was made
Fit for the power in which he stands array'd,
That first or last, hereafter if not here,
He too might make his Author's wisdom clear,
Praise him on earth, or, obstinately dumb,
Suffer his justice in a world to come.
This once believ'd, 'twere logic misapplied
To prove a consequence by none denied,
That we are bound to cast the minds of youth
Betimes into the mould of heav'nly truth,
That taught of God they may indeed be wife,
Nor ignorantly wand’ring miss the skies.

In early days the conscience has in most
A quickness, which in later life is lost,
Preserv'd from guilt by falutary fears,
Or, guilty, soon relenting into tears.
Too careless often, as our years proceed,
What friends we fort with, or what books we

. read, Our parents yet exert a prudent care To feed our infant minds with proper care, And wisely store the nurs’ry, by degrees, With wholesome learning and acquir'd with

ease. Neatly secur’d from being soild or torn, Beneath a pane of thin translucent horn,

A book

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