The thrush and linnet in the vale,

The fweet fequefter'd nightingale,

The bullfinch, wren and woodlark, alli

Obey my fummons when I call:

O! could I form fome cunning fnare

To catch the coy, coquetting fair,

In CUPID'S filmy web so fine,

The pretty girls fhould all be mine!

When all were mine,-among the reft,

I'd chufe the Lafs I liked the best,

And should my charming mate be kind,

And fmile, and kifs me to my mind,

With her I'd tie the nuptial knot,

Make HYMEN's cage of my poor cot,

And love away this fleeting life,

Like Robin Redbreaft and his wife!

SONG;

WRITTEN FOR A CONVIVIAL SOCIETY, WHOSE MOTTO WAS 66 FRIENDSHIP, LOVE AND TRUTH.”

How grand in age, how fair in youth,

Are holy "FRIENDSHIP, LOVE and TRUTH!”

On Halcyon wings our moments pass,

Life's cruel cares beguiling;

Old TIME lays down his scythe and glass,

In gay good humour smiling:

With ermine beard and forelock grey,

His reverend front adorning,

He looks like Winter turn'd to May,

Night foften'd into Morning!

How grand in age, how fair in youth,

Are holy "FRIENDSHIP, LOVE and TRUTH!",

From these delightful fountains flow

Ambrofial rills of pleasure;

Can man defire, can heaven bestow
A more refplendent treasure?

Adorn'd with gems fo richly bright,

We'll form a Constellation,

Where every Star, with modeft light,

Shall gild his proper station.

How grand in age, how fair in youth,

Are holy"FRIENDSHIP, LOVE and TRUTH!”

RELIGION.

AN OCCASIONAL HYMN.

THRO' fhades and folitudes profound,

The fainting traveller winds his way; Bewildering meteors glare around,

And tempt his wandering feet aftray:

Welcome, thrice welcome, to his eye,

The fudden moon's inspiring light,

When forth she fallies thro' the sky,
The guardian Angel of the night!

Thus mortals blind and weak, below

Purfue the phantom Bliss, in vain;

The world's a wilderness of woe,

And life a pilgrimage of pain!

N.

Till mild RELIGION, from above,

Defcends, a fweet engaging form,

The meffenger of heavenly love,

The bow of promise in a storm!

Then guilty paffions wing their flight,
Sorrow, remorse, affliction cease;

RELIGION'S yoke is soft and light,

And all her paths are paths of peace.

Ambition, pride, revenge depart,

And folly flies her chaftening rod;

She makes the humble contrite heart,
A temple of the living God.

Beyond the narrow vale of time,

Where bright celeftial ages roll,

To scenes eternal, fcenes fublime,

She points the way and leads the foul.