TO THE ROBIN. LITTLE warbling nymph of May, Simple strains and accents wild, Shewing thee the muses' child; Let thy happy woodland note, Then when morn begins to glow, 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, "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, The essence of his raging direful thirst, 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, 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 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, Above, it mingles as it flows, Around the same pure throne it glows, 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, 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, Yes, we are one tho' far apart, And heart will still respond to heart, Then how are we alone? |