Can re-affemble the loose scatter'd parts, And put them as they were. Almighty God Thro' length of days; and what he can he will: With a new elegance of form, unknown To its firft ftate. Nor fhall the conscious foul Shall rush with all th' impatience of a man In pain to see the whole. Thrice happy meeting! SECT. CXXXII. ON A PAIR OF SCALES. BLAIR. WOULD W OULD men their faults and paffions weigh And mind, in all they do or fay, That folly don't prevail: Then might they fhun the various ills That inattention brings; By reafon regulate their wills, MISS M. FALCONAR. SECT. CXXXIII. ON THE EFFECTS OF WINTER. SEE hoary-headed Winter comes, In fnowy veft array'd; No tender bloffom fweetly blooms At his approach the painted vale The filver ftream forgets to glide, No more upon its graffy fide The flocks, delighted, feed. The fhady elm, the lofty oak, Withdraw their verdant charms, Through every change of varying time And And own thy goodness moft fublime, SECT. MISS H. FALCONAR. CXXXIV. ON INFANCY. HAIL, fcenes of life more lovely than the fpring, More beauteous than the dawn of fummer's day, More gay and artless than the birds that fing Adieu, ye paths adorn'd with springing flowers: So the first pair in Paradise were blest, Perpetual pleafures open'd to the view; But, ah! those joys shall fly with winged speed, So fhines the fun in orient fplendour bright, The fun fhall fink in dark and cheerless night, M 4 MISS H. FALCONAR. O' ALBERT AND ELWEENA. 'ER evening fkies the queen of night Had fpread her filver beam, That ting'd the neighb'ring hills with light, Or fported in the ftream. No peasants, wand'ring through the plains, All ftill, but where her love-lorn ftrains To hear thy tender woes difplay'd, Faft o'er his health's declining bloom So noon-tide funs, with fervid beam, 'Twas bright Elweena, matchlefs maid, In abfence oft he fought relief, And vow'd to love no more; But abfence sharpen'd ev'ry grief, That pierc'd his foul before. In equal pain Elweena figh'd, Young Albert's innocence and truth Such worth might well efteem infpire, But av'rice quell'd the kindling fire, Soft o'er the morn of Albert's life How blefs'd the youth, till bitter ftrife He with his widow'd mother dwelt, In folitude obfcure; And every shock of fate fhe felt He help'd her to endure. Long fince the fatal news had pafs'd The mourning village o'er, That her brave husband breath'd his laft On India's diftant fhore. But added to her hapless doom. M She |