All will be well-you shall have store,
And I be plagu'd with wealth no more.
11. Tho' I restrain your bounteous heart,
You shall act the gen'rous part."—
The bridal came, great was the feast,
And good the pudding and the priest.
12. The bride in nine moons brought him forth
A little maid of matchless worth:
Her face was mix'd with care and glee;
And she was nam❜d Economy.
13. They styl'd her fair discretion's queen,
The mistress of the golden mean.
Now Generosity confin'd,
Perfectly easy in her mind,
Still loves to give, yet knows to spare,
Nor wishes to be free from Care.
1. WIDE over the tremulous sea,
The moon spread her mantle of light;
And the gale, gently dying away,
Breath'd soft on the bosom of night.
2. On the forecastle Maratan stood,
And pour'd forth his sorrowful tale;
His tears fell unseen in the flood;
His sighs pass'd unheard in the gale.
3. "Ah, wretch!" in wild anguish, he cried,
"From country and liberty torn!
Ah, Maratan, would thou hadst died,
Ere o'er the salt waves thou wert borne !
4. Thro' the groves of Angola I stray'd,
Love and hope made my bosom their home;
There I talk'd with my favourite maid,
Nor dreamt of the sorrow to come.
5. From the thicket the man-hunter sprung;
My cries echoed loud through the air:
There were fury and wrath on his tongue;
He was deaf to the voice of despair.
5. Flow, ye tears, down my cheeks ever flow; Still let sleep from my eye-lids depart; And still may the sorrows of wo,
Drink deep of the stream of my heart.
6. But hark! o'er the silence of night
My Adila's accents I hear;
And mournful beneath the wan light,
I see her lov'd image appear.
7. Slow o'er the smooth ocean she glides,
As the mist that hangs light on the wave;
And fondly her partner she chides,
Who lingers so long from his grave.
8. 'Oh, Maratan! haste thee,' she cries,
'Here the reign of oppression is o'er;
The tyrant is robb'd of his prize,
And Adila sorrows no more.'
9. Now sinking amidst the dim ray,
Her form seems to fade on my
O! stay thee, my Adila stay!-
She beckons, and I must pursue.
10. To-morrow the white man, in vain,
Shall proudly account me his slave:
My shackles I plunge in the main,
And rush to the realms of the brave !*"
SECTION XXXII.
The Swallows.
1. ERE yellow autumn from our plains retir'd,
And gave to wint'ry storms the varied year,
The swallow race, with foresight clear inspir'd,
To southern climes prepar'd their course to steer.
2. On Damon's roof a grave assembly sat,
His roof, a refuge to the feather'd kind :
With serious look he mark'd the nice debate,
And to his Delia thus address'd his mind.
*It may not be improper to remind the young reader, that the anguish of the unhappy negroes, on being separated for ever from their country and dearest connexions, with the dreadful prospect of perpetual slavery, frequently becomes so exq' site, as to produce derangement of mind, and suicide.
3. "Observe yon twitt'ring flock, my gentle maid;
Observe, and read the wondrous ways of Heav'n!
With us, thro' summer's genial reign they stay'd,
And food and lodgings to their wants were giv'n.
4. But now, thro' sacred prescience, well they know
The near approach of elemental strife;
The blust'ring tempest and the chilly snow,
With ev'ry want and scourge of tender life.
5. Thus taught, they meditate a speedy flight;
For this, e'en now they prune their vig'rous wing;
For this, consult, advise, prepare, excite;
And prove their strength in many an airy ring.
6. They feel a pow'r, an impulse all divine !
That warns them hence; they feel it and obey:
To this direction all their cares resign,
Unknown their destin'd stage, unmark'd their way.
7. And does no pow'r its friendly aid dispense,
Nor give us tidings of some happier clime?
Find we no guide in gracious providence,
Beyond the stroke of death, the verge of time?
8. Yes, yes, the sacred oracles we hear,
That point the path to realms of endless day;
That bid our hearts nor death, nor anguish fear:
This, future transport; that, to life the way.
9. Then let us timely for our flight prepare,
And form the soul for her divine abode;
Obey the call, and trust the leader's care,
To bring us safe, through virtue's paths to God.
10. Let no fond love for earth exact a sigh;
No doubts divert our steady steps aside;
Nor let us long to live, nor dread to die :
Heav'n is our hope, and Providence our
store, i. Flow, ye tears, down my cheeks ever flow; Still let sleep from my eye-lids depart;
hear. And still may the sorrows of wo,
Drink deep of the stream of my heart.
Past. But hark! o'er the silence of night
My Adila's accents I hear;
And mournful beneath the wan light,
I see her lov'd image appear.
'. Slow o'er the smooth ocean she glides,
As the mist that hangs light on the wave;
And fondly her partner she chides,
Who lingers so long from his grave.
3. Oh, Maratan! haste thee,' she cries,
'Here the reign of oppression is o'er;
The tyrant is robb'd of. his prize,
And Adila sorrows no more.'
9. Now sinking amidst the dim ray,
Her form seems to fade on my view:
O! stay thee, my Adila stay!-
She beckons, and I must pursue.
10. To-morrow the white man, in vain,
Shall proudly account me his slave:
My shackles I plunge in the main,
And rush to the realms of the brave!
They render'd hatred for his love,
And evil for his good.
3. Their malice rag'd without a cause,
Yet, with his dying breath,
He pray'd for murd'rers on his cross,
And bless'd his foes in death.
4. From the rich fountain of his love,
What streams of mercy flow!
"Father, forgive them." Jesus cries,
"They know not what they do."
5. Let not this bright example shine,
In vain before our eyes!
Give us, great God, a soul like his,
To love our enemies.
The dangers and snares of life.
soul! lift up thine eyes;
See where thy foes against thee rise,
In long array, a num❜rous host!
Awake, my soul, or thou art lost.
2. Here giant danger threat'ning stands,
Must'ring his pale terrific bands;
There pleasure's silken banners spread,
And willing souls are captive led.
3. See where rebellious passions rage,
And fierce desires and lusts engage;
The meanest foe of all the train
Has thousands and ten thousands slain.
4. Thou tread'st upon enchanted ground;
Perils and snares beset thee round:
Beware of all, guard every part,
But most the traitor in thy heart.
5. Come then, my soul, now learn to wield
The weight of thine immortal shield:
Put on the armour from above
Of heav'nly truth and heav'nly love.
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