ELIZA. So food Eliza on the wood-crown'd height,

O'er MINDEN's plain, spectatress of the fight; Sought with bold eye, amid the bloody ftrite, Her dearer felf, the partner of her life; From hill to hill, the ruling host pursu'd, And view'd his banner-or believ'd the view'd! Pleas'd with the dittant roar, with quicker tread, Faft by her hand, one lifping boy the led; And one fair girl, amid ihe loud aların, Slept on her kerchief, cradled by her arm; While round her brows bright beams of HonoUR

dart And Love's warm eddies circle round her heart! Near, and more near, th' intrepid beauty press’d, Saw, thro' the driving fmoke, his dancing creli; Saw on his helm her virgin hands inwove, Bright fars of gold, and mystic knots of LOVE; Heard the exulting shout-"They run! they run!" Great God!' the cry'd, · he's safe! the battle's

won!' A ball now hisses thro' the airv tides Some fury wing'd it, and some dæmon guides ! Parts the fine locks, her graceiul head ihat deck, Wounds her fair ear, and links into her neck; The red-fircam issuing from her azure veins, Dies her white veil, heriv'ry bofom stains:

Ah, me!' the cry’d; and, sinking on the ground, Kils'd her dear babes, regardless of the wound:

Oh, ceare not vet to beat, thou vital urn; • Wait, gushing life-oh, wait my love's return!

Hoarfe barksthe wolf, the vulture screams from far, • The angel Pity shuns the walks of wär: • Oh,spare, ye war-hounds, spare their tender age! . On me, on me,' she cry'd, exhaut your rav! Then with weak arins hér weeping babes cares de And, lighing, hid them in her blood-stain d voi From tent to tent, th' impatient warrior fliei, Apar in his heart, and phreniy in his eyes:

Eliza's name along the camp he calls-
Eliza echoes thro' the canvas walls;
Quick thro’ the murm’ring gloom his footsteps tread,
O'er groaning heaps, the dying and the dead,
Vault o'er the plain, and, in the tangled wood,
Lo, dead ELIZA, weltring in her blood !
Soon hears his liftning fon the welcome sounds;
With open arms and iparkling eyes he bounds :-

Speak low,” he cries; and gives his little hand: " ELIZA

eps upon the dew-cold fand;" Poor weeping babe, with bloody fingers press’d, And try'd, with pouting lips, her milkless breaft: • Alas, we both with cold and hunger quake! “ Why do you weep?-Mama will soon awake.”

She'll wake no more!' the hopeless mourner cry'd, Upturn’d his eyes, and clasp'd his hands, and figh’d: Stretch'd on the ground, awhile, entranc'd he lay, And press'd warm kisses on the lifeless clay; And then up-fprung, with cold, convulsive startAnd all the father kindled in his heart: • Oh, heav'n's!' he cry'd, my first raih vow forgive, · These bind to earth--for THESE I pray to live! Round his chill babes he wrapp'd his crimson vest, And clasp'd them, fobbing, to his aching brealt.

THE WOODBINE. THO' from thy bank of velvet borne,

Hang not, fair flow'r, thy drooping crest; MARIA's bofom thou thalt find

The softest-sweetest bed of rest. Tho' from mild zephyrs’ kiss no more

Ambrosial balms thou shalt inhale, Her gentle breath, whene'er she lighs

Shall fan thee with a purer gale. But thou be thankful for that bliss,

For which in vain a thousand burn, And as thou fealest sweets from her, Give back thy choiceit in return

CHARITY.
DID sweeter sounds adorn my flowing tongue,

Than ever man pronounc'd, or angels fungi
Hlad I all knowledge, human and divine,
That thought can reach, or science can define;
And had I pow'r to give that knowledge birth,
In all the speeches of the babbling earth :
Did SHADRACH's zeal my glowing breast inspire,
To weary tortures, and rejoice in tire;
Or had I faith like that which ISRAEL saw
When Moses gave them miracles and law:
Yet, grac'ous CHARITY! indulgent guest,
Were not thy pow'r exerted in iny breaft,
Thofe fpeeches would send up unheeded pray'r;
That scorn of life, would be but wild despair;
A tymbal's sound were better than my voice;
My faith were form, my eloquence were noile.

CHARITY, decent, modeft, easy, kind,
Softens the high, and rears the abject mind;
Knows with just reins and gentle hand to guide
Betwixt vile SHAME, and arbitrary PRIDE.
Not foon provok'd, the easily forgives;
And much he suffers, as the much believes.
Soft PEACE she brings wherever the arrives;
She builds our quiet, as the forms our lives;
Lays the rough paths of peevith nature even,
And opens in each heart a little heav'n.

Each other gift, which God on man bestows,
Its proper bound and due restriction knows;
To one fixt purpose dedicates its pow'r,
And, finishing its act, exitis no more.
Thus, in obedience to what heav'n decrees,
KNOWLEDGE shall fail, and PROPHECY Thall cease;
But lasting CHARITY's more ample sway,
Nor bound by time, nor subject to decay,
In happy triumph thall for ever live,
And endless good diffuse, and endless praise receive.

As through the artist's intervening glass,
Our eye observes the distant planets país,

1

A little we discover, but allow
That more remains unseen, than art can show:
So, whilit our mind its knowledge would improve,
Its feeble eye intent on things above,
High as we may, we lift our REASON up,
By FAITH directed, and confirm'd by HOPE :
Yet we are able only to survey
Dawning of beams, and promises of day,
Heav'n's fuller eflluence mocks our dazzl'd fight;
Too great its swiftness, and too strong its light.

But soon the mediate clouds shall be dispell’d,
The sun shall soon be face to face beheld,
In all his robes, with all his glory on,
Seated fublime on his meridian ihrone.

Then, confiant FAITH, and holy hope shall die; One lott in certainty, and one in joy · Whilst thou, more happy pow'r, fair CHARITY, Triumphant filier, greateft of the three, Thy oflice and thy nature fiill the same, Lalting thy lamp, and unconsum'd thy flame, Shalt liill survive Shalt stand before the host of heav'n confeft, For ever blefling, and for ever bleft.

THE TEAR.
OH! that the chemifi's magic art

Could chrystallize this facred treasure!
Long should it glitter near my heart,
A secret source of pensive pleasure.
The little brilliant, ere it fell,
Its luftre caught from CHLOE's eye;
Then, trembling, left its coral cell-
The spring of' SENSIBILITY!
Sweet drop of pure and pearly light!
In thee the rays of VIRTUE thine;
More calmly clear, more mildly bright,
Than any gem that gilds the mine.

Benign restorer of the foul!
Who ever fly'st to bring relief,
When firtt she feels the rude controul
Of Love or PITY, Joy or GRIEF.
The fage's and the poet's theme,
In ev'ry clime, in ev'ry age;
Thou charm'ft in fancy's idle dream,
In REASON's philosophic page.
That very law* which moulds a tear,
And bids it trickle from its source,
That law preserves the earth a sphere,
And guides the planets in their course.

THE WILLING SLAVE. On an AFRICAN WOMAN, whose favourite 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, whose heart was rendered callous by long practice in this degrading traffic, chose to retain him, observing, that the agonies of the MOTHER would induce her to become a voLUNTARY SLAve rather than part with him. It happened

as he said. OH, HENRY! didst thou hear in vain

The moving tale the captain told? Go, then, and heap the fordid gain,

And sell thy fellow-men for gold! Yet, when the dingy mother rov'd

With eager step, and sought her child, E’en sailors, ftern of heart, were mov'd

With her fad moan and gestures wild. “ Give her, her boy, poor fool!” they cry'd :

" Why agonize a tender mind?” Harpoon'd! harpoon'd!' the mate reply'd :

• Slack fail!—The'll not be long behind.' 'Twas so :-lhe kiss'd her children dear,

Beckon'd the boat across the wave-
Yielded herself (to share the tear
With her lost boy)--a WILLING SLAVE!