-And now, Philanthropy! thy rays divine
Dart round the globe from Zembla to the Line;
Q'er each dark prison plays the cheering light,.
Like northern luftres o'er the vault of night.-
From realm to realm, with cross or crefent crown'd,
Where'er mankind and misery are found,
O'er burning fands, deep waves, or wilds of fnow,
Thy Howard journeying feeks the house of woe.
Down many a winding ftep to dungeons dank,
Where anguish wails aloud, and fetters clank;
To caves bestrew'd with many a mouldering bone,
And cells, whofe echoes only learn to groan;
Where no kind bars a whispering friend disclose,
No funbeam enters, and no zephyr blows,
He treads, inemulous of fame or wealth,
Profuse of toil, and prodigal of health;
With foft affuafive eloquence expands

Pow'rs rigid heart, and opens his clenching hands;
Leads ftern-ey'd Justice to the dark domains,
If not to fever, to relax the chains ;

Or guides awaken'd mercy through the gloom,
And shows the prison, fifter to the tomb !—
Gives to her babes the felf-devoted wife,
To her fond husband liberty and life !—
-The fpirits of the good, who bend from high
Wide o'er thefe earthly scenes their partial eye;
When firft, array'd in Virtue's pureft robe,
They faw her Howard traverfing the globe;
Saw round his brows her fun-like glory blaze
In arrowy circles of unwearied rays:
Miftook a mortal for an angel guest,
And ask'd what feraph-foot the earth impreft.

-Onward

Onward he moves !-Disease and death retire,

And murmuring demons hate him, and admire.

DARWIN.

THE

CHA P. XXXIII.

THE ROSE:

HE rofe had been wafh'd, juft wafh'd in a fhower,
Which Mary to Anna convey'd,

The plentiful moisture incumber'd the flower,
And weigh'd down its beautiful head.

The cup was all fill'd, and the leaves were all wet, And it seem'd to a fanciful view,

To

weep for the buds it had left with regret, On the flourishing bush where it grew.

I haftily feiz'd it, unfit as it was,
For a nofegay, so dripping and drown'd,
And fwinging it rudely, too rudely, alas!
I fnapp'd it, it fell to the ground.

And fuch, I exclaim'd, is the pitiless part
Some act by the delicate mind,

Regardless of wringing and breaking a heart Already to forrow refign'd.

This elegant rofe, had I fhaken it lefs,

Might have bloom'd with its owner awhile,

And the tear that is wip'd with a little addrefs,

May be follow'd perhaps by a smile.

COWPER.

CHAP,

P

CHAP XXXV.

ODE то APOLL O.

ON AN INK-GLASS ALMOST DRY'D IN THE SUN.

ATRON of all thofe lucklefs brains,

That, to the wrong fide eaning, Indite much metre with much pains, And little or no meaning.

Ah why, fince oceans, rivers, ftreams,
That water all the nations,

Pay tribute to thy glorious beams,
In conftant exhalations,

Why, ftooping from the noon of day,

Too covetous of drink, Apollo, haft thou ftol'n away A poet's drop of ink ?

Upborne into the viewless air,

It floats a vapour now,
Impell❜d thro' regions denfe and rare,
By all the winds that blow.

Ordain'd, perhaps, ere fummer flies,
Combin'd with millions more,

To form an iris in the fkies,
Though black and foul before.

Illuftrious drop! and happy then

Beyond the happiest lot, Of all that ever pass'd my pen, So foon to be forgot!

Phœbus

Phoebus, if fuch be thy defign,

To place it in thy bow,

Give wit, that what is left may shine

With equal grace below.

S

CHA P. XXXVI.

CATHARINA.

ADDRESSED TO MISS STAPLETON.

HE came-she is gone-we have met--,
And meet perhaps never again;

The fun of that moment is fet,

And feems to have rifen in vain.
Catharina has filed like a dream-
(So vanishes pleasure alas !)
But has left a regret and esteem
That will not fuddenly pafs.

The last evening-ramble we made,
Catharina, Maria, and I,
Our progrefs was often delay'd

By the nightingale warbling nigh.

We paus❜d under many a tree,

And much she was charm'd with a tone

Lefs fweet to Maria and me,

Who had witness'd fo lately her own.

My numbers that day fhe had fung,
And gave them a grace fo divine,

As only her mufical tongue

Could into numbers of mine,

COWPER,

The