VIII. But, oh! if, fickle and unchafte, (Forgive a tranfient thought) Thou could become unkind at laft, And fcorn thy present lot, IX. No need of lightnings from on high, Or kites with cruel beak; Denied th' endearments of thine eye, This widow'd heart would break. X. Thus fang the sweet fequefter'd bird, Soft as the paffing wind, And I recorded what I heard A leffon for mankind. A FABL E. A RAVEN, while with gloffy breaft But fuddenly a wind as high As ever swept a winter sky Shook the young leaves about her ears, Left the rude blaft fhould fnap the bough, (For Ravens, though, as birds of omen, They teach both conj'rers and old women Can't prophefy themfelves at all.) The morning came, when neighbour Hodge, Who long had mark'd her airy lodge, And deftin'd all the treasure there A gift to his expecting fair, Climb'd like a fquirrel to his dray, And bore the worthlefs prize away. MORA L. 'Tis Providence alone fecures, In every change, both mine and your's: Safety confifts not in escape From dangers of a frightful fhape; The man that's ftrangled by a hair. 304 1 A COMPARISON. A COMPARISON. THE lapfe of time and rivers is the fame; Both speed their journey with a restless stream; The filent pace with which they steal away No wealth can bribe, no pray'rs perfuade to ftay; Alike irrevocable both when paft, And a wide ocean fwallows both at last. Though each refemble each in ev'ry part, A difference strikes at length the musing heart; Streams never flow in vain; where streams abound, How laughs the land with various plenty crown'd! But time that should enrich the nobler mind, Neglected, leaves a dreary wafte behind. ANOTHER. ADDRESSED TO A YOUNG LADY. SWEET ftream that winds through yonder glade, Apt emblem of a virtuous maid Silent and chafte fhe steals along, Far from the world's gay bufy throng, With gentle, yet prevailing, force, Intent upon her deftin'd courfe; Graceful and useful all fhe does, Bleffing and bleft where'er she goes, VERSES SUPPOSED TO BE WRITTEN BY ALEXANDER SELKIRK, DURING HIS SOLITARY ABODE IN THE ISLAND OF JUAN FERNANDEZ. I. I AM monarch of all I furvey, My right there is none to difpute; From the centre all round to the fea, I am lord of the fowl and the brute. Oh, folitude! where are the charms That fages have seen in thy face? Better dwell in the midst of alarms, Than reign in this horrible place. |