THE

DELIGHTS OF VIRTUE.

RETURNING Morn, in orient blush array'd, With gentle radiance hail'd the sky serene; No rustly breezes wav'd the verdant shade, Nor swelling surge disturb'd the azure main.

These moments, Meditation, sure are thine;
These are the halcyon joys you wish to find,
When Nature's Peaceful elements combine
To suit the calm composure of the mind.

The Muse, exalted by thy sacred pow'r,
To the green mountain's air-born summit flew,
Charm'd with the thoughtful stillness of an hour,
That usher'd beaming Fancy to her view.

Fresh from old Neptune's fluid mansion sprung
The sun, reviver of each drooping flow'r;
At his approach the lark, with matin song,
In notes of gratitude confess'd his pow'r.

So shines fair Virtue, shedding light divine, On those who wish'd to profit by her ways; Who ne'er at parting with their vice repine, To taste the comforts of her blissful rays.

She with fresh hopes each sorrow can beguile, Can dissipate Adversity's stern gloom, Make meagre Poverty contented smile,

And the sad wretch forget his hapless doom.

Sweeter than shady groves in summer's pride, Than flow'ry dales or grassy meads is she; Delightful as the honey'd streams that glide From the rich labours of the busy bee.

Her paths and alleys are for ever green; There innocence, in snowy robes array'd, With smiles of pure content is hail'd the queen

And happy mistress of the sacred shade.

O let not transient gleams of earthly joy
From Virtue lure your lab'ring steps aside;
Nor instant grandeur future hopes annoy
With thoughts that spring from Insolence
and Pride.

Soon will the winged moments speed away, When you'll no more the plumes of honour

wear;

Grandeur must shudder at the sad decay, And pride look humble when he ponders there.

Depriv❜d of Virtue, where is beauty's pow'r?

Her dimpl❜d smiles, her roses charm no more; So much can guilt the loveliest form deflow'r, We loath that beauty which we lov'd before.

How fair are Virtue's buds where-e'er they blow,

Or in the desart wild or garden gay!

Her flow'rs how sacred whereso'er they show, Unknown to the black canker of decay!

A TAVERN ELEGY.

FLED are the moments of delusive Mirth, The fancy'd pleasure! paradise divine! Hush'd are the clamours that derive their birth From gen'rous floods of soul reviving wine.

Still night and silence now succeed the noise; The ebbing tides of passion rage no more; But all is peaceful as the ocean's voice

When breezeless waters kiss the silent shore.

Here stood the juice whose care-controuling pow'rs

Could ev'ry human misery subdue,
And wake to sportive joy the lazy hours,
That to the languid senses hateful grew.

Attracted by the magic of the bowl,

Around the swelling brim in full array The glasses circl'd, as the planets roll, And hail with borrow'd light the god of day.

Here Music, the delight of moments gay,
Bade the unguarded tongues their motions

cease,

And with a mirthful, a melodious lay,

Aw'd the fell voice of Discord into Peace.

These are the joys that Virtue must approve, While Reason shines with majesty divine, 'Ere our ideas in disorder move,

And sad excess against the soul combine.

What evils have not frenzy'd mortals done
By wine, that ignis fatuus of the mind!
How many by its force to vice are won,
Since first ordain'd to tantalize mankind!

By Bacchus' pow'r, ye sons of riot! say,
How many watchful centinels have bled!
How many travellers have lost their way,

By lamps unguided thro' the ev'ning shade!

0 spare those friendly twinklers of the night! Let no rude cane their hallow'd orbs assail! For cowardice alone condemns the light,

That shews her countenance aghast and pale.

Now the short taper warns me to depart, 'Ere Darkness shall assume his dreary sway, K