102 VERSES FROM THE POEM OF VALEDICTION.

He may be call'd to give up health and gain,
T'exchange content for trouble, ease for pain,
To echo sigh for sigh, and

groan for groan,

And wet his cheeks with sorrows not his own.

The heart of man, for such a task too frail,

When most relied on, is most sure to fail;

And, summon'd to partake its fellow's wo,
Starts from its office, like a broken bow.

Vot'ries of business, and of pleasure, prove Faithless alike in friendship, and in love.

Retir'd from all the circles of the gay,
And all the crouds, that bustle life away,

To scenes, where competition, envy, strife,
Beget no thunder-clouds to trouble life,

Let me, the charge of some good angel, find
One, who has known, and has escap'd mankind;
Polite, yet virtuous, who has brought away
The manners, not the morals, of the day:
With him, perhaps with her, (for men have known
No firmer friendships than the fair have shown)

Let me enjoy, in some unthought-of spot,
All former friends forgiven, and forgot,
Down to the close of life's fast fading scene,
Union of hearts, without a flaw between.
"Tis grace, 'tis bounty, and it calls for praise,
If God give health, that sunshine of our days!
And if he add, a blessing shared by few,
Content of heart, more praises still are due-
But if he grant a friend, that boon possess'd
Indeed is treasure, and crowns all the rest;
And giving one, whose heart is in the skies,
Born from above, and made divinely wise,
He gives, what bankrupt nature never can,
Whose noblest coin is light and brittle man,
Gold, purer far than Ophir ever knew,

A soul, an image of himself, and therefore true.

IN BREVITATEM VITÆ SPATII HOMINIBUS

CONCESSI.

BY DR. JORTIN.

HEI mihi! Lege ratâ sol occidit atque resurgit, Lunaque mutatæ reparat dispendia formæ, Astraque, purpurei telis extincta diei,

Rursus nocte vigent. Humiles telluris alumni,
Graminis herba virens, et florum picta propago,
Quos crudelis hyems lothali tabe peredit,

Cum Zephyri vox blanda vocat, rediitque sereni
Temperies anni, fœcundo è cespite surgunt.
Nos domini rerum, nos, magna et pulchra minati,
Cum breve ver vitæ robustaque transiit ætas,
Deficimus; nec nos ordo revolubilis auras

Reddit in æthereas, tumuli neque claustra resolvit.

ON THE

SHORTNESS OF HUMAN LIFE.

TRANSLATION OF THE FOREGOING.

[JANUARY 1784.]

SUNS that set, and moons that wane,

Rise, and are restor❜d again,

Stars that orient day subdues,

Night at her return renews.

Herbs and flowers, the beauteous birth

Of the genial womb of Earth,

Suffer but a transient death

From the winter's cruel breath.

Zephyr speaks; serener skies
Warm the glebe, and they arise.
We, alas! Earth's haughty kings,
We, that promise mighty things,
Losing soon life's happy prime,
Droop, and fade, in little time.
Spring returns, but not our bloom;

Still 'tis winter in the tomb.

EPITAPH ON JOHNSON.

[JANUARY 1785]

HERE Johnson lies-a sage by all allow'd,

Whom to have bred, may well make England

proud;

Whose prose was eloquence, by wisdom taught,

The graceful vehicle of virtuous thought;

Whose verse may claim-grave, masculine, and

strong,

Superior praise to the mere poet's song;

Who many a noble gift from Heav'n possess'd,
And faith at last, alone worth all the rest.
O man, immortal by a double prize,

By fame on earth-by glory in the skies!