Asleep and naked as an Indian lay, An honest factor stole a gem away:
He pledg'd it to the knight, the knight had wit, So kept the di'mond, and the rogue was bit. Some scruple rose, but thus he eas'd his thought, "I'll now give six-pence where I gave a groat: "Where once I went to church, I'll now go twice"And am so clear of all other vice."
The Tempter saw his time; the work he ply'd;
Stocks and subscriptions pour on every side,
'Till all the Dæmon makes his full descent
In one abundant shower of cent per cent.
Sinks deep within him, and possesses whole,
Then dubs Director, and secures his soul.
Behold Sir Balaam now a man of spirit,
Ascribes his gettings to his parts and merit ;
What late he called a Blessing, now was Wit,
And God's good Providence, a lucky Hit.
Things change their titles, as our manners turn :
His Compting house emplo,'d the Sunday morn:
Seldom at Church ('twas such a busy life)
But duly sent his family and wife.
There (so the Devil ordain'd) one Christmas tide
My good old Lady catch'd a cold and dy'd,
A nymph of quality admires our Knight;
He marries, bows at Court, and grows polite :
Leaves the dull Cits, and joins (to please the fair)
The well bred cuckolds in St. James' air :
In Britain's Senate he a seat obtains,
And one more pensioner St. Stephen gains.
My lady falls to play; so bad her chance,
He must repair it; takes a brioe from France.
The house impeach him; Coningsby harangues:
The court forsake him, and Sir Balaam naggs.
Wife, son, and daughter, Satan ! are thy own,
His wealth yet dearer, forfeit to the Crown:
The Devil and the King divide the prize,
And sad Sir Balaam curses God, and dies.
EDWIN AND EMMA.
FAR in the windings of a vale,
Fast by a sheltering wood,
The safe retreat of health and peace,
An humble cottage stood.
There beauteous EMMA flourish'd fair
Beneath a mother's eye,
Whose only wish on earth was now
To see her blest, and die.
The softest blush that nature spreads
Gave colour to her cheek;
'Such orient colour smiles thro' heav'n
When May's sweet mornings break
Nor let the pride of great ones.scorn
This charmer of the plains;
That sun which bids their diamonds blaze,
To deck our lily deigns.
Long had she fir'd each youth with love,
Each maiden with despair ;
And tho' by all a wonder own'd,
Yet knew not she was fair,
Till EDWIN came, the pride of swains,
A soul that knew no art,
And from whose eyes serenely mild,
Shone forth the feeling heart.
A mutual flame was quickly caught,
Was quickly too reveal'd:
For neither bosom lodg'd a wish,
Which virtue keeps conceal d.
What happy hours of heartfelt bliss,
Did love on both bestow !
But bliss too mighty long to last,
Where fortune proves a foe.
His sister, who like envy form d,
Like her in mischief joy'd,
To work them harm, with wicked skill
Each darker art employ'd.
The father too, a sordid man,
Who love nor pity knew,
Was all unfeeling as the rock
From whence his riches grew.
Long had he seen their mutual flame,
And seen it long unmov'd;
Then with a father's frown at last,
He sternly disapprov'd
In EDWIN's gentle heart a war
Of differing passions strove;
His heart which durst not disobey,
Yet could not cease to love.
Deny'd her sight, he oft behind
The spreading hawthorn crept,
To snatch a glance, to mark the spot
Where EMMA walk d and wept.
Oft too in Stanmore's wintry waste,
Beneath the moonlight shade,
In sighs to pour his soften'd soul
The midnight mourner stray d.
His cheeks, where love with beauty glow ́d,
A deadly pale o ercast;
So fades the fresh rose in his prime,
Before the northern blast.
The parents now, with late remorse,
Hung o'er his dying bed,
And weary'd heav'n with fruitless pray'rs,
And fruitless sorrows shed.
'Tis past, he cry'd, but if your souls
Sweet mercy yet can move,
Let these dim eyes once more behold
What they must ever love.
She came; his cold hand softly touch'd,
And bath'd with mauy a tear;
Fast falling o'er the primrose pate
So morning dews appear.
But oh! his sister's jealous care,
(A cruel sister she !)
Forbad what EMMA came to say,
My Edwin, live for me,
Now homeward as, she hopeless went,
The church-yard path along,
The blast blew cold, the dark owl scream'd
Her lover's funeral song.
Amid the horrid gloom of night,
Her starting fancy found
In every bush his hovering shade,
His groan in every sound.
Alone, appall'd, thus had she pass'd
The visionary vale,
When lo! the death-bell smote her ear,
Sad sounding in the gale.
Just then she reach'd, with trembling steps,
Her aged mother's door:
He's gone, she cry'd, and I shall see
That angel face no more.
I feel, I feel this breaking heart
Beat high against my side:
From her white arm down sunk her head,
She shiver'd, sigh'd, and died.
CELADON AND AMELIA.
TIS listening fear, and dumb amazement all;
When to the startled eye the sudden glance
Appears far south, eruptive through the cloud;
And following slower, in explosion vast,
The Thunder raises his tremendous voice.
At first, heard solemn o'er the verge of heaven,
The tempest growls: but as it nearer comes,
And rolls its awful burden on the wind,
The lightnings flash a larger curve, and more
The noise astounds: till over head a sheet
Of livid flame discloses wide: then shuts,
And opens wider; shuts and opens still
Expansive, wrapping ether in a blaze,
Foilows the loosen'd, aggravated roar,
Enlarging, deep'ning, mingling; peal on peal
Crush'd horrible, convulsing heaven and earth.
Guilt hears appall'd, with deeply troubled thought:
And yet not always on the guilty head
Descends the fated flash. Young CELADON
And his AMELIA were a matchless pair;
With equal virtue form'd and equal grace,
The same, distinguish'd by their sex alone:
Her's the mild lustre of the blooming morn,
And his the radiance of the risen day.
They lov'd: but such their guiltless passion was,
As in the dawn of time inform'd the heart
Of innocence and undissembling truth.
'Twas friendship heighten'd by the mutual wish,
Th' enchanting hope, and sympathetic glow,
Beam'd from the mutual eye. Devoting all
To love, each was to each a dearer self;
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