F pride and mad ambition we complain, Ill temper's baneful influence o'er the mind And clouds the beauteous beams of fmiling peace; The op'ning flow'rs bloom sweeter where she treads, THE charms of fair Benevolence I fing, For her the muse shall wake the hallow'd lyre; Far from the pomp of courts she loves to dwell :- To raise fome hapless mortal's drooping head! For thou canft wipe the tear from sorrow's eye, Ah! did the wealthy vicious few but feel The blifs refulting from one well-spent hour; Did they but know the tender tafk to heal The foul juft finking 'neath affliction's fhow'r ! But thou, Benevolence, waft form'd to fave, To thee the art of fuccouring want was giv'n ;, Thy hand can fnatch her from the yawning grave,. And pluck the thorns that bar her way to heaven. MISS M. FALCONAR. SECT. C ONTENTMENT, fource of ev'ry earthly joy, Without thee, what are riches, what is pow'r? In vain shall grandeur, luxury, employ Their pow'rs to please beyond the present hour. 'Tis not in courts that thou delight'ft to dwell; Contentment scorns the gilded roof of state ; But in the honeft peasant's lowly cell She lives retir'd, nor fears the storms of fate. Parent of blooming health and gentle peace, Thou foft companion of the guiltless breast, To thee, fair goddess, I devote these lays, pen of art. MISS H. FALCONAR. IN PRAISE OF FRIENDSHIP. FRIENDSHIP, fweet balm toev'ry bleeding wound, Sweet focial pow'r, on earth but feldom found, From From heaven, like fome phænomenon, appears, Yet flays not here, but, like refreshing fhow'rs, Yet Flattery oft affumes fair Friendship's name, When fortune frowns, if Friendfhip ftill remains, MISS H. FALCONAR. "TIS ON NOON. IS fultry noon, and now the lab'ring fwains, Fatigu'd with heat, forfake the fun-burnt plains, To take their cool repaft beneath a shade, Of ancient oaks and spreading elm-trees made. The panting flocks lie ftretch'd upon the mead, The lowing herds, grown faint, refufe to feed; For Sol's bright luftre burns the verdant fields, And ev'ry herb beneath his influence yields. The The blooming flow'rs, beneath his fervid ray, MISS H. FALCONAR. SE C T. CXLII. ON MIDNIGHT. TOW Midnight o'er the earth her mantle throws The bufy world is hush'd in foft repose. Through parting trees the moon's pale luftre beams, Or faintly glimmers o'er the crystal streams. Beneath the poplar's fhade, the nightingale Tunes to the night her melancholy tale, Till the fhrill sky-lark, meffenger of day, Trills through the dufky clouds his matin lay. 'Neath their thatch'd roofs the peaceful peasants reft; No anxious care disturbs each guiltless breast. In this still hour the wretch, o'erwhelm'd with woe, From whofe fad eyes unceafing torrents flow, Pours his afflictions to the midnight gloom, And weeps, and wishes for the filent tomb. MISS H. FALCONAR. SECT. |