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Lines written on reading Mrs. Smith's Novel of The Banished Man
When in sad Charlottes page we trace the woe, Which foul injustice dooms her still to know: When in disguise her simple Tale is drest, And in feign'd terms her sorrows are exprest, With pity for her Woes we mingled feel, Awe for the Talents such those woes reveal; And while our admiration she excites, We grieve that from necessity she writes.-
On the death of Mr. R. Worsley + 1795
Ah! Gentle Youth, thus in Lifes early bloom Why seek so soon the solitary Tomb! Why thus impatient hasten to repose And in an endless sleep thy eyelids close! Was not thy Form endow'd with ev'ry grace, And did not beauty triumph in thy face! Of manly sense, and cultivated Mind, Of manners gentle, and of wit refined,
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Ah! what can'd tempt Thee in life's early bloom, To hide each dawning Virtue in the Tomb! Perhaps by Heav'n withdrawn from future woes, There only wert Thou doom'd to find repose.=
To Melancholy 1795
Truest is thy reign soft Melancholy, Fair nurse of Virtue, Foe to Folly. Thou gentle calmer of the soul, Canst Passions rapid force control; Expand and elevate the Mind, With Hopes sublime, and thought refin'd. Far from Despairs impetuous force, Is thy mild equal temper'd course, Nor griefs wild starts, nor idle joy, Thy sad tranquility destroy. Reason thy timid step attends, Science and Thee are ever Friends.
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No aweful majesty severe, Does in thy downcast eye appear; But tenderness, and [?] there, Thine 'midst thy turns divinely fair: Thy dark brown tresses all unbound, Veil thy pale cheeks, and float around: Unceasing sighs thy bosom [?], And thy deep cherish'd was [?]. What time the [Boat?] on drowsy wing, This circ'ling in his airy ring, When busy crowds forget their cares, And sleep his graceful [?] When murmuring Winds in sighs complain, And echo [?] their plaint again, When distant torrents faint by roar, While down the heath and hills they pour, Then do I woo Thee from thy bower To share my solitary hour.