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WRITTEN IN A TIME OF AFFLICTIOX.
Friendly to peace, but not to me!
Those alders quivering to the breeze,
III. But fix'd unalterable Care
Foregoes not what she feels within,
While Peace possess'd these silent bowers,
This moss-grown alley musing, slow;
Alike admonish not to roam ;
I. WHAT Nature, alas ! has denied
To the delicate growth of our isle, Art has in a measure supplied,
And Winter is deck'd with a smile. See, Mary, what beauties I bring
From the shelter of that sunny shed, Where the flowers have the charms of the spring, Though abroad they are frozen and dead.
II. 'Tis a bower of Arcadian sweets,
Where Flora is still in her prime, A fortress to which she retreats
From the cruel assaults of the clime. While Earth wears a mantle of snow,
These pinks are as fresh and as gay,
-The frowns of a sky so severe;
Through many a turbulent year. The charms of the late blowing rose
Seem graced with a livelier hue, And the winter of sorrow best shows
The truth of a friend such as you.
NECESSARY TO THE HAPPINESS OF THE
THE lady thus address'd her spouse:
You are so deaf, the lady cried,
Dismiss poor Harry! he replies;
Well, I protest 'tis past all bearing-
Alas! and is domestic strife,
The love that cheers life's latest stage,
FORCED from home and all its pleasures,
Afric's coast I left forlorn ;
O'er the raging billows borde.
Paid my price in paltry gold ;
Minds are never to be sold. Still in thought as free as ever,
What are England's rights, I ask, Me from my delights to sever,
Me to torture, me to task? Fleecy locks and black complexion
Cannot forfeit Nature's claim ; Skins may differ, but affection
Dwells in white and black the same. Why did all-creating Nature
Make the plant for which we toil? Sighs must fan it, tears must water,
Sweat of ours must dress the soil. Think, ye masters iron-hearted,
Lolling at your jovial boards; Think how many backs have smarted
For the sweets your cane affords. Is there, as ye sometimes tell us,
Is there one, who reigns on high? Has he bid you buy and sell us,
Speaking from his throne the sky? Ask him, if your kootted scourges,
Matches, blood.extorting screws, Are the means that duty urges,
Agents of his will to use?