Can re-affemble the loose scatter'd parts,

And put them as they were.

Almighty God
Has done much more; nor is his arm impair'd

Thro' length of days; and what he can he will:
His faithfulness ftands bound to fee it done.
When the dread trumpet founds, the flumb'ring dust,
Not unattentive to the call, shall wake;
And ev'ry joint poffefs its proper place,

With a new elegance of form, unknown

To its firft ftate. Nor fhall the conscious foul
Mistake his partner; but amidst the crowd
Singling its other half, into its arms

Shall rush with all th' impatience of a man
That's new come home, who having long been abfent,
With hafte runs over every diff'rent room,

In pain to see the whole. Thrice happy meeting!
Nor time, nor death shall ever part them more.
'Tis but a night, a long and moonless night,
We make the grave our bed, and then are gone.

SECT. CXXXII.

ON A PAIR OF SCALES.

BLAIR.

WOULD

W

OULD men their faults and paffions weigh
In reafon's even scale;

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,
And happier live than kings.

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
Το grace the leaflefs fhade.

At his approach the painted vale
Refigns her bright array;
Nor violet blue, nor primrose pale,
Perfumes the breath of day.

The filver ftream forgets to glide,
Nor murmurs through the mead;

No more upon its graffy fide

The flocks, delighted, feed.

The fhady elm, the lofty oak,

Withdraw their verdant charms,
For nature feels the withering ftroke,
And finks in Winter's arms.

Through every change of varying time
My voice fhall grateful sing,

And

And own thy goodness moft fublime,
O mercy's gracious King!,

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
Their tuneful fonnets on the leafy spray! ·

Adieu, ye paths adorn'd with springing flowers:
Oh! could thofe vernal sweets again be given,
When guardian angels watch'd my guiltless hours,
And ftrove to guide my erring steps to heaven.

So the first pair in Paradise were blest,

Perpetual pleafures open'd to the view;
Nor guilt, nor fear, difturb'd the peaceful breaft,
Nor anxious care their happy moments knew.

But, ah! those joys shall fly with winged speed,
And leave to bufy care the jocund scene;
To innocence shall guilt and pain fucceed;
To lively youth long hours of gloom and spleen.

So fhines the fun in orient fplendour bright,
So bloom the roses on a fummer's day;

The fun fhall fink in dark and cheerless night,
The blooming rofes feel a fure decay.

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,
On founds melodious hung,

All ftill, but where her love-lorn ftrains
Sweet Philomela fung.

To hear thy tender woes difplay'd,
Sweet fongftrefs of the grove,
The melancholy Albert ftray'd,
A prey to hopeless love.

Faft o'er his health's declining bloom
A wafting languor flew;

So noon-tide funs, with fervid beam,
Exhale the morning dew.

'Twas bright Elweena, matchlefs maid,
Whose beauties fann'd the flame;
And taught him 'neath the lonely shade,
In fighs, to breath her name.

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,
And mutual love exprefs'd;
But, ah! her father's cruel pride
Forbade them to be blefs'd.

Young Albert's innocence and truth
He could not disapprove;
But fortune plac'd the luckless youth
Beneath his daughter's love.

Such worth might well efteem infpire,
It almoft won his praise;

But av'rice quell'd the kindling fire,
Compaffion ftrove to raise.

Soft o'er the morn of Albert's life
Had fortune fmil'd ferene;

How blefs'd the youth, till bitter ftrife
Revers'd the happy scene!

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.
Was now her Albert's grief;

M

She