MORAL.

"Tis Providence alone fecures,

In every change, both mine and your's:
Safety confifts not in escape

From dangers of a frightful shape;
An earthquake may be bid to spare
The man that's strangled by a hair.
Fate fteals along with filent tread,
Found oft'neft in what leaft we dread,
Frowns in the ftorm with angry brow,
But in the funfhine ftrikes the blow.

A COMPARISON.

THE lapse of time and rivers is the fame;
Both speed their journey with a restless stream;
The filent pace with which they steal away
No wealth can bribe, no pray'rs persuade to stay 3
Alike irrevocable both when past,

And a wide ocean fwallows both at laft.

Though each resemble each in ev'ry part,
A difference ftrikes at length the mufing heart;
Streams never flow in vain; where ftreams abound,
How laughs the land with various plenty crown'd!
But time that should enrich the nobler mind,
Neglected, leaves a dreary wafte behind.

ANOTHER.

ADDRESSED TO A YOUNG LADY.

SWEET ftream that winds through yonder glade,

Apt emblem of a virtuous maid—

Silent and chafte she steals along,

Far from the world's gay busy throng,
With gentle, yet prevailing, force,
Intent upon her deftin'd course;

Graceful and ufeful all fhe does,
Bleffing and bleft where'er fhe goes,
Pure-bofom'd as that wat'ry glass,
And heav'n reflected in her face.

VERSES

SUPPOSED TO BE WRITTEN BY ALEXANDER SELKIRK, DURING HIS SOLITARY ABODE IN THE ISLAND OF JUAN FERNANDEZ.

I.

I AM moharch of all I furvey,

My right there is none to difpute;
From the centre all round to the sea,
I am lord of the fowl and the brute.
Oh, folitude! where are the charms
That fages have seen in thy face?
Better dwell in the midst of alarms,
Than reign in this horrible place.

II.

I am out of humanity's reach,

I muft finish my journey alone,

Never hear the fweet mufic of speech;
I ftart at the found of my own.
The beafts, that roam over the plain,
My form with indifference fee;
They are fo unacquainted with man,
Their tamenefs is fhocking to me.

III.

1

Society, friendship, and love,
Divinely bestow'd upon man,

Oh, had I the wings of a dove,
How foon would I taste you again !
My forrows I then might affuage

In the ways of religion and truth, Might learn from the wisdom of age, And be cheer'd by the fallies of youth.

IV.

Religion! what treasure untold
Refides in that heavenly word!
More precious than filver and gold,
Or all that this earth can afford.
But the found of the church-going bell
Thefe vallies and rocks never heard,
Ne'er figh'd at the found of a knell,
Or fmil'd when a fabbath appear'd.

V.

Ye winds, that have made me your sport, Convey to this defolate shore

Some cordial endearing report

Of a land I fhall vifit no more.

My friends, do they now and then fend
A with or a thought after me?
O tell me I yet have a friend,

Though a friend I am never to fee.

VI.

How fleet is a glance of the mind! Compar'd with the speed of its flight, The tempeft itself lags behind,

And the swift winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land, In a moment I feem to be there;

But alas! recollection at hand

Soon hurries me back to despair.

VII.

But the fea-fowl is gone to her nest,
The beaft is laid down in his lair,

Ev'n 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.