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Imitated from the FRENCH.

STRAYING befide yon wood-fkreen'd river,

Dan Cupid met my wond'ring view: His feather'd arrows ftor'd his quiver, Each feather glow'd a diff'rent hue ;

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'For him who frames the daring deed,

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(The little godhead faid and laugh'd)

To fly with Mifs beyond the Tweed, 'An eagle's plume adorns the fhaft.

"The prattler vain of his address,

'The magpye's feathers never fail And for the youth too fond of dress, "I rob the gaudy peacock's tail.

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'Whene'er I mean to roufe the care

That lurks within the jealous heart, 'The owl that wings the midnight air Lends his grave plume to load the dart.

'But

"But rarely when I would affail

"The conftant heart with truth impreft,

• Then for the trembling shaft I steal

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'A feather from the turtle's breast.

Lo! one with that foft plumage crown'd,
'Which more than all my arms I prize :
Alas! I cried, this gave the wound,
When late you fhot from JULIA's eyes.

THE

A

THE

NUNNERY:

In Imitation of Mr. GRAY'S ELEGY.

Retirement's hour proclaims the tolling bell :

In due obfervance of its stern decree,
Each facred virgin feeks her lonely cell,
And leaves the grate to folitude and me.

Now throws the western fun a fainter glare,
And filence fooths the vestal world to rest,
Save where fome pale-eye'd novice (rapt in pray'r)
Heaves a deep groan, and fmites her guiltless breast.

Save that in artless melancholy ftrains,
Some ELOISA, whom foft paffion moves,
Abforpt in forrow to the night complains,
For ever bar'd the ABELARD fhe loves.

Within

Within thofe ancient walls with mofs o'erfpread,
Where grief and innocence their vigils keep,
Each in her humble cell till midnight laid,
The gentle daughters of devotion sleep.

Of wantonnefs the pleasure-breathing lay,
Or laughter beck'ning from his rofy feat,
Or vanity attir'd in colours gay,

Shall ne'er allure them from their fober state.

For them no more domeftic joys return,
Or tender father plies his wonted care,
The nuptial torch for them muft never burn,
Or prattling infants charm the ling'ring year.

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Oft do they weave the chaplets pictur'd gay,
To deck the altars, and the fhrines around
How fervent do they chant the pious lay?
How thro' the length'ning ayle the notes refound?

Let not ambition mock with jeft profane,
Their life obfcure, and deftiny fevere;
Nor worldly beauty with a fneer disdain

The humble duties of the cloister'd fair.

The

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