"The denoument must needs be droll"Twere folly not to fee the whole." Prefuming thus on future pleasure,
HAYMAN kept poft to wait the sleeper's leisure.
At length our Porter's flumber o'er,
He jogg'd on, tott'ring as before;
Unconscious any body kind
Had eas'd him in his load behind.
Now on the houses turn'd his
eye,
As if his journey's end were nigh,
Then read the paper in his hand,
And made a stand-
HAYMAN drew near, with eager mein,
To mark the clofing of the fcene,
Expecting ftrait a furious din,
His features ready for a grin.
And now we need but mention one thing more,
To fhew how well he must have lik'd the whim,
Though drunk, our Porter hit at last the door,
And HAYMAN found the Hare was fent to HIM.
A wife old Proverb fays, "To others do,
"E'en as you would those others fhould to you-"
Now had our Painter mark'd this rule with care,
He, not the Dog, had din'd upon the Hare.
Sung at the Blind Afylum, Liverpool.
HARK! Sifters, hark! that burfting figh,
It iffu'd from fome feeling heart;
Some pitying ftranger fure is nigh ;—
Tell us, oh! tell us who thou art.
Sad is the lot the fightless know,
We feel indeed, but ne'er complain,
Here gentle toils relieve our woe;
Hark, hark, that piteous figh again.
If breath'd for us those heaving fighs,
May Heav'n, kind ftranger, pity thee!
If ftarting tears fuffuse thine eyes,
Those tears, alas! we cannot fee.
But ev'ry figh, and ev'ry tear,
And ev'ry boon thy hand has given,
All in full luftre fhall appear,
Recorded in the books of Heaven.
VERSES on an African Woman, whose favorite Boy was kidnapped by the Crew of a Boat: The Sailors, moved by the Distress of the Mother, would have restored the Child; but the Mate, more judicious, chofe to retain him, in hopes that the Diftrefs of the Mother would induce her to become a voluntary Slave rather than part with him.
OH, HENRY, didft thou hear in vain,
The moving tale the Captain told?
Go, then, and heap the fordid gain,
And fell thy fellow Men for Gold!
Yet, when the dingy Mother rov'd
With eager step, and fought her Child, E'en Sailors, ftern of heart, were mov'd With her fad moan and gestures wild.
"Give her the Boy, poor fool!" they cry'd: Why agonize a tender mind?"
"Harpoon'd, harpoon'd!" the Mate reply'd : "Slack fail;-fhe'll not be long behind.”
'Twas fo;-fhe kiss'd her Children dear, Beckon'd the boat across the wave
Yielded herself (to fhare the tear
Of her loft Boy)—a willing Slave!
HOU, dear companion of the wife,
Serene promoter of their joys
By pleasure without fling,
Thou great prefervative of health,
Thou gem beyond all pomp of wealth!
To thee I humbly fing.
See, where the rose adorns the cheek,
Where all the modeft virtues fpeak
A fecret, peaceful joy;
No baneful viands load their board,
What Nature simplest doth afford
They ufe-but not destroy.
Gouts, gravels, headachs, all attend
On luxury, that woeful fiend,
That bane of human blifs;
But those whofe fumptuous tables' spread With feafon'd meats, wine fparkling red, Too feldom think of this.
A jovial Bacchanalian core,
A flowing bowl, a midnight fplore,
At diftant view may charm,
But fage experience tells the wife,
Their falfe allurements to defpife,
And fhun their fatal harm.
Mark the infatuated wretch,
Once gayeft at the deep debauch,
Whom dire diseases pine,
What keen remorfe muft cut him through
When Temp'rance rises to his view,
All beauteous and divine?
O Temperance! thou Heaven-born maid!
Be thou my goddess and my guide,
My guardian and reward,
Teach me to relifh fimple joy,
And from temptations, which deftroy,
Be thou my fhield and guard.
ROBERT BURNS.
LET muling Melancholy drop a tear,
And gay fantaftic Humour heave a figh;
Let no unhallow'd hand approach the bier,
Where low in death his facred reliques lie.
BURNS, bleft with native vigour, ftruck the lyre:
Each heart, affenting, felt the magic sound;
To foothe the foul the pleafing notes confpire;
From hill and dale the heav'nly notes rebound.
Alive to joy, while joy was on the wing;
To playful mirth, to humour void of art;
'Twas Nature's felf that taught her bard to fing
The fong of joy pour'd genuine from the heart.
For Genius gone, let Scotia melt in tears;
Her darling Son no more fhall foothe her woes,
No more gay hope excite-difpel her fears,
Or tuneful fing her forrows to repose.
The foul of harmony, the plaintive ftrain,
Fall fweetly pleafing on the ravifh'd ear.
Nor let unmov'd the hardest heart remain:-
In filence drop the foftly trickling tear.
See where the pledges fweet of mutual love
Are left in pinching penury to pine:
O! if ye hope fweet mercy from above,
Let mercy fweet, to gen'rous deeds incline.
A widow's woes, a mother's tears revere,
And helpless babes, their father now no more:
The fight of thefe, alas! belov'd and dear,
His dying breaft with bitter anguifh tore.
His Jeanie's woes, his helpless babes forlorn,
The profpe&t dire of penury and want,
The infolent contempt, the haughty scorn,
The look difdainful, and the bitter taunt:
Thefe, from the unfeeling never cease to fall
With all their weight upon the wretched head;
This well he knew:-the thought that heart appall'd
That fmil'd in pain, defcending to the dead.
O may his fhade revifit aft with joy
Thefe fcenes which once to rapture rais'd his mind: To glad his shade, your friendly aid employ,
To fuccour thofe he to your care confign'd.
When just about to bid this world adieu-
His laft advice ftill rings upon my ear:
"Thefe dying words, I now impart to you,
"O! might the world with due attention hear.
“ In sprightly youth of fyren vice beware:
"Learn from my fate the hapless lot of man;
"With caution learn to fhun each gilded snare,
“O'erlook my faults and all my beauties scan.”
Confign'd to earth, here refis the lifeless clay,
Which once a vital fpark from Heav'n inspir'd.
The lamp of Genius fhone full bright its day,
Then left the world to mourn its light retir'd.
While burns that fplendid orb which lights the fpheres,
While mountain ftreams defcend to fwell the main,
While changeful feafons mark the rolling years,
Thy fame, O BURNS! let Scotia fill retain.
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