The cold, cold dews of haftening death,

The dim, departing eye,
The quivering hand, the short quick breath

He view'd and did not die.

He saw her spirit mount in air,

Its kindred skies to seek!
His heart its anguish could not bear,

it would not break.

The mournful Muse forbears to tell

How wretched ELDRED died :
She draws the Grecian * Painter's veil,

The vat distress to hide.

Yet Heaven's decrees are just and wise,

And man is born to bear, Joy is the portion of the skies,

Beneath them, all is care.

* In the celebrated Pi&ure of the Sacrifice of Iphigenia, Timanthes having exhausted every image of grief in the by-standers, threw a veil over the face of the father, whose forrow he was utterly unable to express. Plin. Book xxxv.

Τ Η Ε Ε Ν D.

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The annual wound allur'd
The Syrien damsels to lament his fate,
In amorous ditties all a summer's day ;
While smooth Adonis from his native Rock
Ran purple to the sea fuppos'd with blood
Of Thammuz yearly wounded.


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To view Sabrina's filver waves below,
Liv'd LINDAMIRA; fair as Beauty's Queen,
The fame fweet form, the fame enchanting mein,
With all that fofter elegance of mind
By genius heighten'd, and by tafte refin'd.
Yet early was the doom'd the child of care,
For love, ill-fated love subdu'd the fair.
Ab! what avails each captivating grace,
The form enchanting, or the finith'd face ;
Or what cach beauty on the heaven-born mind,
The soul superior or the taste refin'd?
Beauty but serves destruction to insure,
And sense, to feel the pang it cannot cure,

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