2. "Ah! why, all abandon'd to darkness and wo;
Why lone Philomela,* that languishing fall?
For spring shall return, and a lover bestow,
And sorrow no longer thy bosom enthral.
But if pity inspire thee, renew the sad lay,

Mourn, sweetest complainer, man calls thee to mourn;
O soothe him whose pleasures like thine pass away;
Full quickly they pass-but they never return.
3. "Now gliding remote, on the verge of the sky,

The moon half extinguish'd her crescent displays:
But lately I mark'd, when majestic on high

She shone, and the planets were lost in her blaze.
Roll on, thou fair orb, and with gladness pursue
The path that conducts thee to splendor again:
But man's faded glory what change shall renew!
Ah fool! to exult in a glory so vain!

4. ""Tis night, and the landscape is lovely no more:
I mourn, but ye woodlands, 1 mourn not for you;
For morn is approaching, your charms to restore,
Perfum'd with fresh fragrance, and glitt'ring with dew.
Nor yet for the ravage of winter I mourn;

Kind nature the embryo blossom will save:
But when shall spring visit the mouldering urn!
O when shall day dawn on the night of the grave!

5. ""Twas thus by the glare of false science betray'd,
That leads to bewilder; and dazzles to blind;
My thoughts wont to roam, from shade onward to shade.
Destruction before me, and sorrow behind.

O pity, Great Father of light, then I cry'd,

Thy creature, who fain would not wander from thee! Lo! humbled in dust, I relinquish my pride:

From doubt and from darkness thou only canst free.

6." And darkness and doubt are now flying away;
No longer I roam in conjecture forlorn;
So breaks on the traveller, faint and astray,
The bright and the balmy effulgence of morn.
See truth, love, and mercy, in triumph descending,
And nature all glowing in Eden's first bloom!
On the cold cheek of death smiles and roses are blending,
And beauty immortal awakes from the tomb."

* Phi-lo-me ́-la, a nightingale.

LESSON CXXIX.

The Mariner's Dream.-DIMOND.

1. In slumbers of midnight the sailor boy lay,

His hammoc✶ swung loose at the sport of the wind ; But, watch-worn and weary, his cares flew away, And visions of happiness danced o'er his mind.

2. He dreamed of his home, of his dear native bowers, And pleasures that waited on life's merry morn; While memory each scene gayly covered with flowers, And restored every rose, but secreted its thorn.

3. Then fancy her magical pinions spread wide,

And bade the young dreamer in ecstacy rise;— Now far, far behind him, the green waters glide, And the cot of his forefathers blesses his eyes.

4. The jessamint clambers in flowers o'er the thatch, And the swallow chirps sweet from her nest in the wall. All trembling with transport, he raises the latch,

And the voices of loved ones reply to his call. 5. A father bends o'er him with looks of delight ;

His cheek is impearled with a mother's warm tear; And the lips of the boy in a love-kiss unite

With the lips of the maid, whom his bosom holds dear 6. The heart of the sleeper beats high in his breast,

Joy quickens his pulses, his hardships seem o'er: And a murmur of happiness steals through his rest—

"O God! thou hast blessed me; I ask for no more." 7. Ah! whence is that flame which now bursts on his eye. Ah! what is that sound which now larums his ear? 'Tis the lightning's red glare, painting hell on the sky! "Tis the crushing of thunders, the groan of the sphere! 8. He springs from his hammoc-he flies to the deckAmazement confronts him with images direWild winds and mad waves drive the vessel awreckThe masts fly in splinters-the shrouds are on fire! 9. Like mountains the billows tremendously swell:

In vain the lost wretch calls on mercy to save; Hammoc, a kind of hanging bed, suspended by hooks, on board ships. ✦ Jessamin, a plant bearing beautiful flowers.

Unseen hands of spirits are ringing his knell,

And the death-angel flaps his broad wing o'er the wave! 10. O sailor boy! wo to thy dream of delight!

In darkness dissolves the gay frost-work of bliss. Where now is the picture that fancy touched bright, Thy parents' fond pressure and love's honied kiss. 11. O sailor boy! sailor boy! never again

Shall home, love, or kindred, thy wishes repay; Unblessed, and unhonored, down deep in the main Full many a score fathom, thy frame shall decay. 12. No tomb shall e'er plead to remembrance for thee,

Or redeem form or fame from the merciless surge;
But the white foam of waves shall thy winding-sheet be,
And winds, in the midnight of winter, thy dirge!

13. On a bed of green sea-flower thy limbs shall be laid;
Around thy white bones the red coral shall grow;
Of thy fair yellow locks threads of amber be made,
And every part suit to thy mansion below.

14. Days, months, years, and ages, shall circle away,
And still the vast waters above thee shall roll;
Earth loses thy pattern for ever and aye :—
O sailor boy! sailor boy! peace to thy soul!

LESSON CXXX.

Verses supposed to be written by Alexander Selkirk, during his solitary abode in the Island of Juan Fernandez.*—CowPER

1. I AM monarch of all I survey,

My right there is none to dispute;
From the centre, all round to the sea,
I am lord of the fowl and the brute.
O solitude! where are the charms,
That sages have seen in thy face?
Better dwell in the midst of alarms,

Than reign in this horrible place.

* The island of Juan Fernandez lies to the west of South America, about three hundred miles from the coast of Chili. Alexander Selkirk, a seaman, a native of Scotland, was put ashore by his captain, and left in this solitary place, where he lived several years. This gave rise to the celebrated ro mance of Robinson Crusoe.

2. I am out of humanity's reach,

I must finish my journey alone;
Never hear the sweet music of speech;
I start at the sound of my own.
The beasts that roam over the plain,
My form with indifference see:
They are so unacquainted with man,
Their tameness is shocking to me.
3. Society, friendship, and love,

Divinely bestowed upon man,
Oh had I the wings of a dove,
How soon would I taste you again!
My sorrows I then might assuage
In the ways of religion and truth;
Might learn from the wisdom of age,
And be cheer'd by the sallies of youth.

4. Religion! what treasure untold
Resides in that heavenly word!
More precious than silver or gold,
Or all that this earth can afford.
But the sound of the church-going bell
These valleys and rocks never heard
Ne'er sigh'd at the sound of a knell,

Or smiled when a sabbath appear'd.
5. Ye winds that have made me your sport
Convey to this desolate shore,
Some cordial endearing report

Of a land I shall visit no more.
My friends, do they now and then send
A wish or a thought after me?
O tell me I yet have a friend,

Though a friend I am never to see.
6. How fleet is a glance of the mind!
Compar'd with the speed of its flight,
The tempest itself lags behind,

And the swift-wing'd arrows of light. When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there; But, alas! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair.

7. But the sea-fowl is gone to her nest,
The beast is laid down in his lair ;*
Even here is a season of rest,
And I to my cabin repair
There's mercy in every place;
And mercy-encouraging thought,
Gives even affliction a grace,
And reconciles man to his lot.

LESSON CXXXI.

The Hermit.-PARNELL.

1. FAR in a wild, unknown to public view,
From youth to age a rev'rend hermit grew.
The moss his bed, the cave his humble cell,
His food the fruits, his drink the crystal well:
Remote from man, with God he pass'd the days,
Prayer all his business, all his pleasure praise.
2. A life so sacred, such serene repose,
Seem'd heaven itself, till one suggestion rose:
That vice should triumph, virtue vice obey;
Thus sprung some doubt of Providence's sway.
His hopes no more a certain prospect boast,
And all the tenor of his soul is lost.

3. So, when a smooth expanse receives, imprest Calm nature's image on its wat'ry breast,

Down bend the banks; the trees, depending, grow;
And skies, beneath, with answ'ring colors glow:
But if a stone the gentle sea divide,

Swift ruffling circles curl on ev'ry side;

And glimm'ring fragments of a broken sun,

Banks, trees and skies in thick disorder run.

4. To clear this doubt; to know the world by sight; To find if books or swains report it right;

(For yet by swains alone the world he knew,
Whose feet came wand'ring o'er the nightly dew,)
He quits his cell; the pilgrim staff he bore,
And fix'd the scallopt in his hat before;
Then, with the sun a rising journey went,
Sedate to think, and watching each event.

* Lair, the bed or couch of a wild beast.

+ Scallop, a shell, carried by pilgrims in their hat, with which they dipped water to quench their thirst when travelling.