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Her eye the pure etherial blue,

Than that did fairer show, Whene'er she watch'd a father's look,

Or wept a lover's woe:

For now the lover of her youth
To Indian climes had roved,
To conquer Fortune's cruel rage,
And match the maid he loved.

Her voice, the gentle tone of love,

The heart a captive stole;

The tender accent of her tongue

Went thrilling thro' the foul.

The graces, that for Nature fair

Present us mimic Art;

The false refinements, that refine

Away the human heart,

She knew not; in the fimple robe
Of elegance and eafe,

Complete she shone, and ever pleased,
Without the thought to please.

Instruct th' unplanted forest-crab

To leave its genius wild; Subdue the monster of the wood,

And make the Savage mild:

But who would give the rose a hue,
Which Nature has not given ?
But who would tame the nightingale,
Or bring the lark from Heaven?

The father, watching o'er his child,

The joy of fathers found;

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And, blest himself, he stretch'd his hand

To bless the neighbours round.

A Pa

A Patriarch in the vale of peace,

To all he gave the law;

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The good he guarded in their rights,

And kept the bad in awe.

Lord of his own paternal field,

He liberal dealt his store;

And call'd the stranger to his feast,
The beggar to his door.

But, ah! what mortal knows the hour

Of Fate? A hand unseen

Upon the curtain ever rests,

And fudden shifts the scene.

Arthur was surety for his friend,
Who fled to foreign climes,
And left him to the gripe of law,

The victim of his crimes.

The

The Sun, that, rising, saw him Lord

Of hill and valley round,

Beheld him, at his setting hour,
Without one foot of ground.

Forth from the hall, no longer his,
He is a pilgrim gone;

And walks a stranger o'er the fields
He lately call'd his own.

The blast of Winter whistled loud

And shrill thro' the void hall;

And heavy on his hoary locks

The shower of night did fall.

Clasp'd in his daughter's trembling hand,

He journey'd fad and flow;

At times he stopt to look behind,

And tears began to flow.

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Wearied, and faint, and cold, and wet,

To shelter he did hie;

"Beneath the covert of this rock,

" My Daughter, let us die!"

At midnight, in the weary waste,

In forrow fat the Pair;

She chaff'd his shivering hands, and wrung

The water from his hair.

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The figh spontaneous rose, the tear

Involuntary flow'd;

No word of comfort could she speak,
Nor would she weep aloud.

" In yonder hall my fathers lived,

" In yonder hall they died;

"Now in that church-yard's aifle they sleep,

"Each by his spouse's fide.

" Oft

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