The virtues of society. A tale, founded on fact. / By the author of The virtues of nature. ; [Two lines from Cartwright] ; Published according to act of Congress.

THE VIRTUES OF SOCIETY. LET the proud Bard of ancient virtue tell, How Arria lived, and Laodonia a fell; How the fair queen,b whom aſian realms adored, In her own breaſt enſbrined her lifeleſs lord, On his loſt form with daily fondneſs fed, And mix'd her breathing relics with the dead; The humble minſtrel will a tale impart, Drawn from the living efforts of the heart, Adventurous beauty, love's inſpiring flame, Beyond the ſtoried page of fabling fame. If to the doubting Muſe the fates ordain, That diſtant realms ſhall heed her timid ſtrain, The matchleſs theme will greet a nation's ear, And call from beauty's eye the baſhful tear. HARRIET, the titled grace of Britain's ſhore, A high-born nymph in lordly nuptials bore, Her form, by nature's cunning hand array'd, Each blending beauty of her ſoul portray'd, The modeſt bluſh, the genius-ſpeaking eye, The thrilling ſmile of bleſt benignity, Where chaſte, attractive, elegance combined A cherub's ſoftneſs with an angel's mind; 'Twas hers adown the graceful dance to glide, Light as the buoyant ſwan, that ſkims the tide, O'er the high harp her poliſh'd fingers fling, And touch to eloquence the ſpeaking ſtring, With liquid throat to pour the lover's pain In the ſweet warble of Italia's ſtrain; Beneath her magic pencil's forming wand New villas riſe, and greener woods expand, While to her tutor'd rhetoric was given To point the ſtars, that gem the brow of heaven, The plant's quick growth, the mineral's ſlow decay, The electric torrent's undulating way, Or round the pictured orb inſtructive trace Each varying zone, that tints the changeful face; Hers was the power, in proſperous fortune bleſt, To calm the cares, that rend the widow's breaſt, To feed pale want, repining grief to cheer, And from oppreſſion wring the unwilling tear, With moving eye, and touching voice, impart Fire to the fancy, paſſion to the heart. Such Harriet was—by poliſh'd care refined,— Her form the herald of her nobler mind, At the dread hour, when angry fate unfurl'd War's crimſon ſtandard round the Younger World; Ere the train'd warriors of the ſea-girt plain Left their loved home to plough the weſtern main, Ranged in review, before the Monarch ſtood The nobleſt, braveſt, of Britannia's blood; While many a peer, and many a beauteous dame, Led by the court, in bright proceſſion came, Harriet alone unrivall'd charms diſplays, The boaſt of paſſion, and the theme of praiſe; But chiefly his, who, foremoſt of the train, Led his tall hundredsc o'er the portion'd plain, ACKLAND, whoſe brow the blazing helmet bears, And ſeems Apollo in the garb of Mars, To Harriet ſeems all, that her dazzled view In the bright hour of picturing fancy drew.— With troubled tranſport, and diſorder'd charms, The fluttering voice its kindred heart alarms, Through the fair frame betrays the latent fire, Each hope is mutual, and each young deſire Flows from the ſoul in many a balmy ſigh, Or beams expreſſion from the meeting eye.— —Though Britain-born, the ſuppliant youth appears A kneeling ſlave, with all a coward's fears—d —Thus where the priſoning cage its paſs extends, O'er the loved bait the hovering ſongſter bends, For yet untaſted ſweets, with furling wing, Braves the bright bondage, and elaſtic ſtring, Quits his clear heaven abroad, his free command, For the ſoft ſhelter, and the feeding hand, Forgets the range, that roving youth required, And all the charms his changeful heart admired, On the ſmooth perch to wake the matin ſtrain, Pleaſed with his ſateleſs feaſt, aad ſilken chain. But when compell'd to quit the brilliant plains, Oppreſs'd by abſence, languor, doubts and pains, The pleading votary to his charmer flies, And reads his ſentence in her pardoning eyes, Soon at her feet the welcome youth is found, And ſoon chaſte love the gordian chaplet bound. In vain the fondneſs of paternal care Urged the dire evils of revolting war, And ſtill with many a boding ſigh deplores The armied ocean, and the bleeding ſhores, Still preſs'd the ſtubborn beauty to remain In the proud palace, and the green domain, Of peaceful Albion's bliſs-encircled iſle, Where the arts flouriſh, and the pleaſures ſmile. The enamour'd fair each ſocial boon diſdains, Give me, ſhe cries, the thunder of the plains, Wide waſting famine, danger's worſt alarms, But give the ſhelter of my Ackland's arms: Not all the joys luxuriant ſcenes afford, The feſtal banquet, and the coſtly board, Not the ſoft ſoothings of the caroll'd lay, Nor ſtrains, that charm the raviſh'd ſenſe away, Not peace, nor wealth, nor flattery's ſiren art, Shall lure me from the monarch of my heart, Shall give my hours in pamper'd eaſe to reſt, Torn from his view, and exiled from his breaſt.— Thus ſcorning ills, ſuperior to control, With one triumphant paſſion in her ſoul, She dreams of bliſs, unſparing war defies, And feels her fondneſs with her danger riſe, Nor heeds the hovering ſtorm, whoſe ruthleſs ſway Will bid the viſion'd landſcape fade away.— —So on the bowery margin of the deep, When all the winds, ſave gentle zephyr, ſleep, Deluſive ſcenes attract the raptured eye, Now with the waves the flocks and foreſts fly, Here the gay floweret lends its ruddy hue, And there the heavenly cryſtal ſhines with blue, But when ſome flitting wing the ſurface ſweeps, Or ſome low cloud in gathering eddies weeps, To the fond view the painted proſpects die, And flowers, and flocks, and trees, in blotted ruin lie. Now o'er the waſte of waters bleak and wide, Urged by the gale, the waſting veſſels glide, Till on the clime, where ſovereign winter reigns, And floors with ſeas of glaſs the dazzling plains, Where cold CANADIA points the ſharpen'd air, Glowing with love, deſcend the peerleſs pair.— Far to the north that wreſted region lies, Where polar tempeſts freeze the weeping ſkies, Where giant-mountains lift their wreathleſs brows, O'er tardy ſpring the blaſt of winter blows, And brineleſs ſeas their nodding banks diſplay With ſullen woods, that mock the ſolar ray:— Beneath this clime the ſtation'd year reſigns Her varying courſe, and breaks her gradual lines, The balmy ſeaſon ſhuns the cloſing ſhore, And ſummer graſps at autumn's genial ſtore, No playful breeze, no mildly temper'd beam, But fervid heat, or nature's cold extreme, Rule the wide range—and, with alternate reign, Pile the white clift, or fill the golden grain; Yet on theſe ſhores a numerous race reſide— Here the red warrior towers in painted pride— And there the blood of Gallia's captured race Warms the briſk limbs, and tints the ſhaded face— Here white-brow'd Albion's blooming offspring ſhine— And there the varying, mingling colors join;— Yet her own Lawrence rolls his fertile tide Through villas, ſmiling on his paſtoral ſide, When with ſweet breath the RUDDY SEASON glows, And binds in chaplets green his horned brows, Breaks his white priſon with her beamy lance, And thaws his frozen breaſt with melting glance, Her waving wand by fine enchantment ſpreads, And inſtant vegetation clothes the meads.— Hither, while Autumn veils his ſhowery ſtar, The gentle Harriet braves the breaking war, While all thoſe graces, that with ſecret ſway Compel the ſenſes, bid the ſoul obey, From the fine features flow with ſpeaking ſmile, In converſe ſweet the gliding hours beguile, Give the rich ſcene, the letter'd lore impart, Or fix with warbled ſtrains the enchanted heart, Charming by change, unſated, unalloy'd, Ten thouſand beauties in one form enjoy'd, Impaſſion'd youth, it was thy fate to prove, A hoarded treaſure to thy boundleſs love. But coy the hope deluſive fancy brings, And the ſwift pleaſure flies on eagle's wings; War's rigid voice commands the ſoldier-train To arch the tent, and clothe the houſeleſs plain; The poor pavilion of the canvas dome, There, form'd the high-born beauty's humble home, Who, ſtill enrich'd by love auſpicious, ſmiled, And cheer'd with voice benign the wintry wild; Till in the dreaming hour of ſtill repoſe, On her ſtruck ſenſe a burſt of brightneſs flows,e Thick curling clouds of ſmoke the ſcene invade, Impetuous flames ruſh through the noxious ſhade, Loud, and more loud, the ſhouts of danger riſe, And, whirl'd in waves, the crackling current flies, The faithful partner of her waken'd fears, From her white couch, the breathleſs Harriet rears, With ſtagger'd ſtep his ſheltering form diſplays, And crowds undaunted through the pouring blaze, Slow to the diſtant dome, with caution'd tread, And twining arm, the trembling beauty led, Cheer'd with kind words, with melting eyes careſs'd, And fondly folds her to his joyful breaſt. Yet ſhort the term of pleaſure's golden reign, And the loves tremble on the tented plain, Soon from the fair the warlike Ackland flies, And dotes on danger with impaſſion'd eyes, While round his brow ſhe wreathes the towering creſt, And claſps the gorget to his fearleſs breaſt, Sees in his glance heroic fervors roll, And hears the ſpeaking ardor of his ſoul, The trembling Harriet veils her penſive eyes, Nor melts his firmneſs with a lover's ſighs; But when adorn'd with every martial grace, The loyal huſband quits the long embrace— May Heaven reſtore thee, glorious as thou art, To the warm ſhelter of this faithful heart, Deep ſigh'd the fair—while ſhowers of ſorrow flow, In all the fond ſolicitude of woe; As round her view war's threatening fantoms throng, To peace, loved peace, ſhe pours the plaintive ſong.— Leſs rich was Hellen in her wealth of charms, When for the field ſhe braced her champion's arms, Leſs ſoft the tear, leſs ſweet the breath of love, When Phrygian Paris left the child of Jove. And now BURGOYNE, Europa's laurel'd boaſt, Leads and inſpires his proud unconquer'd hoſt, Brave Frazier follows with a powerful band, Where gloomy Hudſon ſweeps the indignant land, And on his breadth of boſom deigns to bear The flaſhing cannon, and the plunging ſpear; Then, crown'd with every charm of youthful grace, Majeſtic Ackland joins the vaunted race, Whoſe helmed brows, and matchleſs valor, claim The pride and bulwark of the britiſh name— —Where the bold clifts of haughty Bebmus riſe, And cleave with dauntleſs brow the clouding ſkies, While their brown ſteeps the boreal river laves, And ſtrips their valleys with his forceful waves, Intrepid GATES, of Albion-armies bred, Columbia's ſons with martial conduct led.— —From the cold glimmerings of the morning-ray, To the red precincts of departed day, The voice of death the ſhivering foreſt fills, And Hudſon echoes from his hundred hills.— Hudſon! the lord of many a fateful hour, With wild, impetuous, deſolating power, To the loud battle joins his clamorous flood, And feeds his myriads with immortal blood.— —While either hoſt with deſperate valor burns, And blow for blow, and death for death, returns, To gallant GATES, in war ſerenely brave, The tide of fortune turns its refluent wave; Forced by his arm, the bold invaders yield The prize and glory of the well fought field; Bleeding and loſt the captured Ackland lies, While leaden ſlumbers ſeal his Frazier's eyes; Frazier! whoſe deeds unfading glories claim, Endear'd by virtue, and adorn'd by fame— —Where danger frowns the hapleſs leader flies, And courts that death,f retarding fate denies, Still doom'd to live, and many a grief to feel, More hard, more wounding, than the warrior's ſteel; Yet o'er the brave heart-ſtricken mercy bends, And wearied victory mourns her ſlaughter'd friends, Defeat and anguiſh ſtrew the proweſs'd plain, Here groan the wounded, and there reſt the ſlain.— While buoyant FAME her lifted trump extends, O'er fields and towns its ſwelling ſtrain deſcends, Credulity with gaping viſage hears, And fills the opening narrative with fears; In giant form the growing terror flies, Where, torn by doubts, the hapleſs Harriet lies, Her buſy train the dreams of rumor ſpread, And fill the field with legions of the dead, Bear to her heart, unfriended and alone, The bleeding Ackland's ſupplicative groan, Deep in a cave, ſcarce heaves his labouring breath, Or ſinks unſolaced in the arms of death— Like one, juſt ſtarting from the trance of ſleep, No will to murmur, and no power to weep, Pale HARRIET ſtood—her ſpreading fingers preſs'd The crowded manſion of her burſting breaſt, With eye upraiſed, and viſage of deſpair, Mutter'd one ſentence of a broken prayer, Then in deep ſilence, and determined haſte, Through the long camp and circling village paſs'd. 'Twas now the time, when twilight's miſty ray Drops the brown curtain of retiring day, The clouds of heaven, like midnight mountains, lower, Waft the wild blaſt, and daſh the drizzly ſhower, Through the wet path her reſtleſs footſteps roam, To where the leader ſpread his ſpacious dome, Low at his feet ſhe pours the deſperate prayer— Give my loſt huſband to my ſoothing care, Give me, in yonder ſolitary cave, With duteous love, his burning wounds to lave, On the warm pillow, which this breaſt ſupplies, Catch his faint breath, and cloſe his languid eyes, Or in his cauſe my proffer'd life reſign; Mine were his bleſſings, and his pains are mine.— —Touch'd by her words, the wondering warrior cries, Pride of thy ſex, tranſcendent Harriet, riſe: Yet not for thee the penſive hope remains With that loved voice to heal a huſband's pains; Canſt thou, while winds the darkling waves deform, Give thy bright beauties to the toſſing ſtorm? Should the thin bark with ſteady caution ſail, And bear thee harmleſs through the driving gale, Can that ſoft breaſt the pointed muſket dare, And riſk the outrage of untruſting war?— Yes—all that danger, all that fate can ſend, O'er my fix'd mind one only hope extend, Kind chance may turn the level'd ball aſide, And the light bark wear out the heavy tide, Nor ſhall weak fears my venturous ſtep reſtrain, The frowns of terror, nor the threats of pain, Each hour ſome viſionary ill ſupplies, And the vile coward every inſtant dies!— —The generous Soldier feels her fond deſpair, And yields reluctant to the frenzied prayer, With loitering hand the letter'd leaf extends, And to Columbia's gallant chief commends The peerleſs graces, in her form diſplay'd, And claims his ſheltering care, and active aid; Still to her view the raſh attempt portrays, Alarms with ſufferings, and allures with praiſe, In vain—nor can perſuaſion's plauſive power, To the pain'd heart its baniſh'd bliſs reſtore; Pledged to her Ackland's fate, the faithful fair Diſdains one foreign thought, one ſelfiſh care, Lives on his life, laments for him alone, And to his ſafety conſecrates her own— —As erſt the grecian bard enraptured ſung, In Nature's bloom, when wedded love was young, The chaſte Alceſte, nymph divinely form'd, By kindling charms, and mutual paſſion warm'd, From his hard fate her dearer lord to ſave, Reſign'd her glowing graces to the grave— HARRIET as brave, as bleſt, as chaſtely kind, With equal truth devotes her doting mind— —Now at her will the hurried heralds fly, Where, ranged in rows, the anchor'd veſſels lie, With proffer'd wealth, and high endowments, crave Two hardy veterans of the bounding wave, With ſkilful hand the reeling bark to guide Down the rough road of Hudſon's rapid tide, At this dark hour with venturous courage go, Meet the fierce ſtorm, and brave the fiercer foe— All ſtand aghaſt—The deſtined boon deſpiſe, Nor ſell exiſtence for a paltry prize; No duty claims, no hope of glory calls, But, whelm'd in ſhame, the purchaſed ſailor falls, Whom gold could dazzle, and high thoughts betray, To ſtem the dark, inexorable way.— —Soon to the fair on wings of ſwiftneſs flew The proud rejection of the adverſe crew; She hears unchanged, yet feels one hope remain,— If the brave ſons of ocean's rough domain Will with kind ear, and pitying ſtep repair, And in her view reject her ardent prayer.— Quick to her wiſh approach the careleſs band, Meet her ſoft glance, and hear her fond demand: That thrilling voice is ſunk in broken ſighs, And ſtreams of ſorrow drown thoſe beamy eyes; Yet that in grief moſt eloquent appears, Thoſe moſt reſiſtleſs through the veil of tears.— —But while the plaintive pleader gently ſtrove The hardy race with melting voice to move, A graceful form g in calm complaiſance roſe, On whoſe pure breaſt celeſtial hopes repoſe, Whoſe eloquence, to moral truths confined, To works of mercy pledged his pitying mind; Though youth's fair morn its blooming luſtre ſhed, And the gay train of laughing pleaſures led, Humble and meek each rebel wiſh ſubdued, And next to heaven he joy'd in doing good, With kindling voice the frigid heart to warm, And give religion's penſive brow a charm, His pallid hand he waved with look of care, And thus addreſs'd the animated fair— —Thy peerleſs faith the God of truth approves, And at thy ſide the power of ſafety moves, The viewleſs angels will thy paſſage guard, Support ſuch virtue, and ſuch love reward. Let from this arm the peaceful enſign ſoar, And to this hand entruſt the guiding oar, Willing I go—The friendly flag diſplay, Nor dread the fiery foe, nor watery way; My ſacred garb may ſhield that helpleſs form, My paſtoral care delude the ſearching ſtorm— He ceaſed—And wiſdom, beauty, worth combined, Melt the hard breaſt, and bend the ſtubborn mind; In kindly ſtrains the ſtormy race reply, And yield their ſafety to a woman's ſigh; Touch'd by her tears, unnumber'd voices join— Be ours the danger, but the boon be thine, Unbought we go, thy proffer'd gold diſdain, To meet the two-fold ruin of the main— —Not thus Angelica, with witching art, Charm'd to her will the fierce Orlando's heart, When, by the tones of ſuppliant beauty won, The vaunted warrior flew to be undone, Braved every danger, baffled every fear, Drawn by the melting magic of a tear— No wanton hopes theſe ruder champions move, No lawleſs beauty bears the torch of love. Now to the melancholy noon of night The black-wing'd hours had ſtretch'd their rapid flight, When with decided ſtep, and dauntleſs mind, Harriet, the ſofteſt, faireſt of her kind, Led by the God, as powerful paſſion moves, With hope and fear, and added ardor, loves, No kindred voice, with native ſtrain, to charm The deep's wide ruin, and the war's alarm, At mournful midnight's ſolitary hour, The fond enthuſiaſt preſs'd the fearful ſhore; While the ſteep waves in moving mountains roſe, And the chill ſtars their heavy eyelids cloſe, On her ſunk head the liquid tempeſt fell, And the near torrent flung its dreadful yell, Aghaſt, and trembling on the rocky coaſt, By the ſad view in breathleſs terror loſt, Down her cold cheek forbidden ſorrows roll, And all the woman waken'd in her ſoul; Till LOVE, more powerful, than the ruling ſtorm, Through the dark tumult glanced his glowing form, Round his fair head auſpicious luſtres play, And ſmooth a paſſage o'er the ſurgy way; The ſtarting Harriet ruſhes from the ſhore, And owns the guidance of the LEADING POWER.— —So from the coaſt, where old Abydos ſtood, Leander ponder'd on the breaking flood, Saw the ſtorm thicken, and the billows riſe, Till the curved ocean met the ſcowling ſkies, While boding fears the cavern'd deep explore, Enamour'd fancy brought the ſeſtian tower, Triumphant love the warring winds defied, And gave him guardleſs to the whelming tide. Now ſwift rebounding from the ſheltery ſhore, The patient ſailor plies the ſweeping oar, Drunk with the gale, the ſtaggering bark is toſt On every wave, that breaks the ſhelving coaſt, Deep on its bulk the heavy rain deſcends, On every ſide the tottering concave bends, Yet Heaven, regardful of the prize it bore, Guides the weak fabric to the diſtant ſhore, Where, at the opening mountain's ſhaggy ſwell, Stalks the tall, hardy, watchful ſentinel; When, dark deſcending on his mazed ſight, Like ſome dull bird, that haunts the omen'd night, Doubtful he gazed, in wrapt ſuſpenſion ſtood, While the full wonder wore the labouring flood, And through the ſurly deep's tumultuous roar, Glides the weak whiſper of the tapering oar; On his waked thought unnumber'd fantoms grow, The ſecret treaſon—The recruited foe— The quiver'd chief, whoſe darts unerring fly— Or the deep purpoſe of the fraudful ſpy— Then with ſtrong voice, hoarſe quivering through the gales, The heaving bark, and dripping ſeamen, hails— —What are ye? whither come? as foe or friend? Who thus myſterious through the clouds deſcend? Spirits? or men more damn'd, in night's attire? Say—or this tube ſhall ſpeak in words of fire.— Borne on the blaſt, the leſſening accents fly, And on the drowning waves in muttering murmurs die.— Of all unconſcious—on the hoſtile ground He reſts—expectant of the anſwering ſound; When on his ear no anſwering ſound returns, His prudent breaſt with angry ardor burns, From his fierce arm the ready tube extends, O'er the low bark with level'd caution bends, Quick at the touch deſcends the ſwift alarm, And grazed the fair Adventurer's lifted arm. Thank Heaven 'tis paſt, the matchleſs ſufferer cries, Nor in my cauſe the generous ſailor dies!— Then with firm mind, and trembling fingers, bound Her ſnowy kerchief to the humid wound; Patient and plaintleſs, while, in clamorous ſtrain, The ſhouting ſeamen ſtrike the echoing main, And ſoon, with nervous arm, and ſtretching oar, Approach the ſhallows of the ſandy ſhore; There the mild ſon of Heaven benignant bends, And from his arm the ſuppliant flag ſuſpends, While the ſoft ſoothing orator reſign'd, To warm perſuaſion, all her powerful mind; In vain—ſtern duty, with unyielding ſway, Wafts the ſweet muſic of her lips away; The threatening guard her lifted ſtep reſtrains, And blocks her paſſage to the hoſtile plains; Though grieved her guiltleſs ſufferings to behold, By prayers unmelted, and unmoved by gold,— Here thou muſt ſtay—with martial voice exclaims, Till o'er yon hills the kindling morning flames, Though grief, and cold, and beating ſtorms aſſail, Brave the ſtrong ſhower, and truſt the pinching gale— She hears unanſwering, uncomplaining bears The throb of anguiſh, and the weight of fears, Till, round the riſing mountain's verdant way, The pale ſtar purples with auſpicious ray, Sacred to Venus—and to Love benign, Diſpels the ſtorm, and bids the landſcape ſhine; Then from the plains, along the brightening coaſt, Extends a rude, inquiring, wondering hoſt▪ Soon from the leader of the gazing band, Flies the ſwift herald, and the mild command, With diſtant awe, and ſoft protective power, To lead the ſuppliant to the tented bower— When with warm praiſes, and attentions kind, The graceful paſtor cheer'd her ſuffering mind— —Heaven on thy face its ſacred ſtamp diſplays, Speaks from thy lips, and every heart obeys, The ſailor's roughneſs, and the ſoldier's rage, Preſuming youth, and unrelenting age, All own the ſecret charm, the power divine, Where the loves reign, and where the virtues ſhine— She hears unheeding, and with thoughtful ſigh Bends on his placid brow her anxious eye.— —Now, gently reſcued from the chilling wave, She meets the gallant CONQUEROR OF THE BRAVE, To glorious GATES with mournful voice declares Her penſive purpoſe, and her deſtined cares, The feeling chief her pallid form ſurveys, And looks the homage of exhauſtleſs praiſe; Till, as the fainting mourner quivering ſtood, Down her white arm deſcends the ſpouting blood; h The wound, though ſlight, a crimſon current ſhed, And all the living ivory ſtreak'd with red: With anxious voice, and quick-inquiring eyes, The pitying train in gather'd circles riſe, The cordial goblet to her lips impart, And claim ſome votary of the healing art; But ſhe, regardleſs of all other grief, Turn'd her ſlow glances on the gallant chief— —If thou, whoſe breaſt the ſighs of paſſion move, E'er felt the rapture of auſpicious love, In the bleſt hour, when mutual ardor ſhone, And thy chaſte heart was fix'd on ONE alone, Couldſt from that heart its precious gem reſign, Ah, bend benignant to a prayer like mine! To the poor hut, where wounded Ackland lies, Lead my weak ſteps, and guide my ſearching eyes: Me powerful love and beckoning duty bore A willing captive to your hoſtile ſhore, Deign to defend, and, dearer far than life, To the brave huſband give the baniſh'd wife.— —The poliſh'd chief with ſoothing voice complied, Commands the rapid car, and cautious guide, And oft the melancholy beauty preſt To cheer the ſadneſs of her boding breaſt:— Grateful ſhe hears, with penſive ſmile replies, While doubts, and fears, and hopes, alternate riſe, Her ſoft, imploring eye, with upward gaze, Reſts on high Heaven, and mingles grief with praiſe— —Thus ſome fair youth, whom cruel avarice dooms, Mid the hard priſon's ſolitary glooms, To loſe his days,—if generous pity ſee His pleading tears, and bid the wretch go free, And then he find the fever's raging ſway Waſtes ſome dear friend, or cheriſh'd child away, What differing paſſions, all to pain allied, Shoot through his frame, his breaking heart divide; The grateful feelings hold their kindly reign, While heavier woes, and ſharper pangs remain, Nor deſperate yet—though torn by many a care, Looks to his God, and ſoothes his ſoul with prayer.— While now, illumined by the lord of day, The lovely wanderer bends her deſtined way, Winds the rough hill, and gains the level lawn, To where the creſcent i ſpread its crooked horn; There the grey hut, whoſe crumbling roof diſplays The neſted bird, cold ſhower, or ſolar rays, Extends its ſhaggy ſides, and ſhelving form, To meet the tottering gale, and breaking ſtorm, There, on his bed of ſtraw ſupinely thrown, The ſinking Ackland breathes his feeble moan, Each gaſping wound with ruddy mouth complains Of parching fevers, and convulſive pains, Unſeen, unknown, he lifts his aſking eyes, No anſwering look, no kindred voice, replies, Till his own Harriet, with reclining knee, Like ſome fair, hovering, guardian deity, His thirſty lip with nectar'd kiſſes preſt, And clung enamour'd round his burning breaſt— One moment clung—In tranſport's wild exceſs, With ſpeechleſs, powerleſs, painful happineſs— When, ſtarting ſudden from the iron bed, Swathed with light touch his anguiſh-darting head, O'er the torn torture of each throbbing wound The downy lint, and reſtful opiate, bound; Her aiding hand the luſcious draught prepares, Mix'd with nice art, and urged with graceful cares; Then, gently bending o'er the drowſy pain, Pours the low warble of a ſeraph's ſtrain, Whoſe ſoften'd notes invoke the poppy'd power, Coy charmer of the pain-encircled bower— —Thus in the ſtormy centre of the wood, The parent linnet cheers her darling brood, Folds her warm wing around the narrow neſt, And gives the ſhelter of her matron breaſt, To them alone her cautious care extends, While on her head the rattling blaſt deſcends, Patient, unmindful, as it whirls along, Charms the cold twilight with her plaintive ſong. Each humble office, that the ſervile poor, Born to ſubjection, tutor'd to endure, With pain perform—ſweet Harriet now is thine: That ſoul of elegance, that form divine, Rear'd in the pride, that wealth and honor bring, Couch'd on the downy Eider's ſilvery wing, Curtain'd in ſilk, with coſtly care array'd, And e'en of Titan's glowing glance afraid, That form, in eaſe and titled ſplendor bred, On the hard ground its nightly pillow ſpread, Shared the cold morſel with ſubmiſſive cheer, And ſmiled contentment through a lucid tear.— Thine was the triumph, LOVE, whoſe charms pervade 〈◊〉 ermined palace, and the ruſſet ſhade, Can the ſharp throb of wounding pain beguile, And lend the face of poverty a ſmile; Deprived of thee, in vain the ſportive ſpring Flings fragrance from his pleaſure-wafting wing, And vain the bow of heaven, with promiſe fair, Lights its rich coloring on the tintleſs air, As vain the taſtely feſtivals abound, And heavenly muſic ſwells its ſacred ſound, In vain amid Bermuda's balmy iſles, And fanning palms, the nymph Enjoyment ſmiles; Each SENSE, each gift, that blended life can boaſt, Without thy heart-felt ſympathy is loſt! Now by kind care, and bliſs-inſpiring love, The healing hours each lingering pain remove; His plumy helm impatient Ackland rears, And the loud drum with beating boſom hears, Through his thrill'd nerves the tepid currents flow, And on his lip hygean roſes blow, To his dark eye the humid tint returns, Whoſe heavenly ray with ſhaded ſoftneſs burns, His ample front luxuriant curls ſurround, And his light limbs with martial vigor bound— With paſſion'd voice his Harriet's care diſplays— —Source of my health, and ſolace of my days, Thou faultleſs model of connubial truth, Thou calm protectreſs of my ſtormy youth, Thy will ſhall guide, thy ruling wiſh control, The devious paſſions of my conquer'd ſoul, Shall, with the magnet's fine attractive ſway, Through life's wild waves direct my dangerous way; That brilliant form forſook its worſhip'd height, O'er my dark fate, to ſhed celeſtial light, And, like ſome roſy inmate of the ſkies, To the cold couch of bloodleſs anguiſh flies, With balmy touch electric health beſtows, Till the ſtrung heart with new pulſation glows; This life is thine, while in its throbbing veins The feeling nerve, and generous heat, remains.— —Thus, when in war's red arms Aeneas lay, And ſeem'd to breathe his heaving ſoul away, Before his view the ſea-ſprung Venus ſtood, And ſwathed with heavenly hand the clotted blood, With whiſper'd ſighs departing life reſtrains, And with immortal nectar charms his pains, The reſcued chief by treaſured love repays The life he owes, and pours his ſoul in praiſe. And now the long-invited moment brings Auſpicious freedom on its welcome wings; The graceful captives quit the hoſtile plain, And joyful join their dear aſſociate train, To the proud bark with glowing hearts repair, And blooming Britain hails the PEERLESS FAIR.

To Time. POWER of the ſweeping wing, And waſting ſand; Lord of the healing breath, And ſpoiling hand, Whoſe lengthen'd fingers fling The viewleſs ſhaft of Death, Beneath whoſe tread the crumbling marble lies, From whoſe vaſt hoard unbounded empires riſe; Yet riſe to fall! While to thy ſway, and thee, The ſome-time Victor bends his conquer'd knee, And feels his palſied heart obey thy call; Whoſe graſp can ſhake the tyrant from his throne, And off his withering temples ſnatch the tarniſh'd crown. MAGICIAN, whom all arts obey! Now from thy wand is ruin hurl'd, Now a rude outlaw gains imperial ſway,Alluding to the well-known origin of Rome. And a wall'd acre awes the ſubject world. Thy taliſman could Egypt's pillars bow, From their broad baſe her pyramids ſhall throw, While all her faded laurels ſhade thy brow. Egypt! from whom immortal hope aroſe,The Egyptians were the firſt people who aſſerted the immortality of the ſoul by diſplaying the doctrine of the Metemſychaſis. Beneath whoſe orient ray, Celeſtial Science met the eye of day, Where burſting Wiſdom ſhed her earlieſt beam, On the rich borders of whoſe worſhip'd ſtream, Like a new god, PAPYRUS grew! And bid ſurrounding realms lift their adoring view, While all the Arts on his ſmooth breaſt repoſe. Egypt! where Alexander ſleeps in duſt, Where great Seſoſtris In all the countries ſubdued by this wonderful hero, he erected pillars or ſtatues with the following inſcription, "I Seſoſtris, king of kings, and lord of lords, ſubdued this country by the power of my arms." And no conqueror ever had ſo many monuments of his victories and greatneſs. rears his trophied buſt, A worthleſs pageant and an empty name, While the barbarian Turks her meads deflower, And the wild Arab mocks her murder'd power, Aſſiſting thee to blaſt her fading fame; No more Oſiris The Egyptians worſhipped Oſiris, the inventor of the plough, under the form of an ox, whom they ſtyled the God Apis. guards thoſe waſted plains, No paean'd Iſis

"I Iſis, wife of King Oſiris, am ſhe who firſt found corn for the uſe of man."

Univ. Hiſt. ſtrews the golden grains. Proud Xerxes wept to find That ere one fleeting century ſun'd mankind, His million heroes to thy power muſt bow; Vain man! with all thy treaſured radiance ſhine, Nerved with full ſtrength, and graced with form divine,

None could be compared to Xerxes in ſtrength, in beauty, and in ſtature.

Gillies' Hiſtory of Greece. For the rude ſea thy bonds prepare, Bid thy frail vaſſals laſh the angry air, While thy deluſive moments flow! And the great Conqueror arreſts thy care, Nor will his lifted ſcythe thoſe vaunted glories ſpare. Where is Palmyra's boaſt! Where towers Zenobia's dome! Where the Chaldean! Syrian! Perſian hoſt! Or where thy glorious freedom, laurel'd Rome! Aſk their great founder, Time, Whoſe plaſtic hand, Where Ignorance led his vagrant band, In ſome uncultured clime, Now bids the marble palace riſe With glittering turrets to the central ſkies, Adorn'd with infant Arts aſpiring to their prime. Thus roſe Columbia, o'er whoſe growing plains, Chief of her choice! her GREAT CIVILIAN reigns, Of towering genius, and controlling hand, Firm to reſolve, and gentle to command; DECIDED PATRIOT! Time for thee prepares A crown, uncanker'd by the ruſt of years, Halo'd with ſtars, whoſe varying rays entwine, The gift is GLORY, and the grace is thine.— —While withering millions on Europa's ſhore Gaze on thy rights and all their wrongs deplore, From thee ſhall TIME the letter'd leſſon give— —Inſtruction flows—they drink the ſtream and live. O VIRTUE! ſovereign of the mind, No force can wither nor ſubdue thy ſway, Thou bright conſoler of mankind, Shedding on midnight grief a diamond ray, Thee ſhall all-ruling Time himſelf obey. SIRE OF THE SILVER LOCKS! to whom Creation's crowding myriads come, With pleading eye, and pouring tear, Beſieging oft thy heedleſs ear; With Adulation bending low, And ſmoothing o'er thy furrow'd brow; While ſenſeleſs Age with bleachen'd hairs, Demands a lengthen'd leaſe of years, From thee, fluſh'd Hectic looks for health, From thee, pale Avarice graſps at wealth, From thee, Ambition dreams of boundleſs power, The Priſoner waits thy aid to ſet him free, The Chymiſt yields his crucible to thee, And on thy wings the Poet hopes to ſoar.— E'en I my vain petition raiſe In all the melody of praiſe, Yet not for wealth, nor power, nor fame, Would invocate thy fearful name; Let Wealth his joyleſs nothings keep, Ambition gain his world—and weep— And on the Chymiſt mayſt thou pour, Like fabled Jove, a golden ſhower; Ah! may the pining Priſoner find, A Howard's cares have made thee kind. Nor would the humble Muſe implore Thy lateſt, beſt regard, Since from her life-conſoling power Aſcends each wiſh'd reward; But yet thy ſharpeſt ſcythe diſplay, To ſweep this ſhadowy form away, Ere from this cheek you chaſe the tear, And cloſe the portals of this ear, Or the warm ſpeaking glance control, That wings the language of the ſoul, Or let one anguiſh'd ſenſe depart, That rends the concave of my heart, Which bids each trembling fibre thrill To agony's exceſs, And gives this raptured breaſt to feel Reflected happineſs. Ah! yet thy ſweeping ſcythe diſplay, Ere theſe brown locks are turn'd to grey, Ere this ſlight form to thee ſhall bend, O let me to the tomb deſcend! Then Memory ſhall delight to trace Some living worth, ſome pictured grace, While bending o'er the hallow'd ſpot, Each human frailty is forgot. There oft ſhall Friendſhip's graceful form be found, Heaving from breaſt of down the ſacred ſigh, And fondly ſpelling but the piteous tale; There ſhall chaſte Love his hopeleſs woes bewail, On the cold marble nail his burning eye, And wear with pilgrim knee the inſenſate ground. So may freſh laurels deck thy faded brow, So may new realms thy waſted plains adorn, O'er thirſty deſarts milky ſtreamlets flow, And joyful carols greet the gift of morn: So may thy charms regain their golden prime, Eternal bleſſings crown thy placid ſway, Striving with anxious Love to ſtrew thy way, And barter'd Slavery, from creation hurl'd, One bright Millennium free a fetter'd world, And not a tear-drop ſhame the eye of TIME.