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النشر الإلكتروني

TO THE ROBIN.

LITTLE warbling nymph of May,
Thou who scatt'rest on my way,

Simple strains and accents wild,

Shewing thee the muses' child;

Let thy happy woodland note,
'Mong the shades of ev'ning float,
Come, and with your little lay,
Please the pensive hour away :

Then when morn begins to glow,
Let your thankful praises flow;
Let your sweetly grateful song,
With the breezes glide along :
And when I with Myra rove,

In th' stilly whispering grove,

Oh then come and hover near,

That she may smile to see you there.

N

SLANDER.

SATAN, the plotting, Machiavelian, king,
One day to monster malice thus address'd :
"Dread Sir, cannot we form some fiendlike thing,
"Shall more of mortals to our kingdom press ?

"I know of some materials spread on earth, "Which I with care have there in time past brought; "I'll go collect them, and we'll form the birth "Of something by which mischiefs may be wrought."

He came he sought the fullgrown tyger first,
And from his heart that drop of blood express'd

The essence of his raging direful thirst,
For cruelty-than fury scarcely less.

Next he demands the subtle viper's fang,

With that still poison from its point infus'd

The bag he tears away, with all the slang,

And Saliva the nest around him shews.

Next of the hypocrite excuses borrows,

Which self had for its own convenience fram'd,
Why it delight should take in causing sorrows,
By dwelling on the faults of men by name.

Then, passing on, he stole a Vulture's nest;

With carrion cramm'd, the vile refuse of death, Pluck'd by the murd❜rous beak from fields where rest, Fragments of trav❜llers forc'd to yield their breath.

These in his bosom bearing, much of vile
And fiendish nature they obtain❜d beside-
Deceit that ready wears a hollow smile;
And smooth tongu'd flattery with oily glide.

At home arriv'd; he to his master brought

These parts prepar'd: the monster scowl'd delight;

Then breath'd upou them full--the little ort,

The essence of them-Slander-hopp'd in sight.

TO AN ABSENT FRIEND.

THO' we in diff'rent places praise,

In diff'rent temples anthems raise,
Our incense is the same.

Above, it mingles as it flows,

Around the same pure throne it glows,
And with united aim.

Then say not we are far apart,

Our praises, springing from the heart;

Meeting declare us one.

The same Redeemer sees them flow,

In an united grateful glow,

How then are we alone?

If grace is our's, it comes from GOD,
Along the same delightful road

Descending from above:

If peace and comfort in us rise,

They too are from beyond the skies,

From the same glorious love.

Our pains from like corruptions spring, And balm from the same Heav'nly king, Healing, declares us one.

Mansions the same, beyond the skies,
We hope to hold, and him we prize
Is God, the LORD alone.

Yes, we are one tho' far apart,

And heart will still respond to heart,

Then how are we alone?

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