But ill apply'd to such a rugged task;
The fields, the master, all, my fair ! are thine,
If, to the various blessings which thy house
Has on me lavish'd, thou wilt add that bliss,
That dearest bliss, the power of blessing thee!”

Here ceas’d the youth: yet still his speaking eye
Express’d the sacred triumph of his soul,
With conscious virtue, gratitude, and love,
Above the vulgar joy divinely rais’d.
Nor waited he reply. Won by the charm
Of goodness irresistible, and all
In sweet disorder lost, she blush'd consent.
The news immediate to her mother brought,
While, pierc'd with anxious thought, she pin’d away
The lonely moments for Lavinia's fate!
Amaz'd, and scarce believing what she heard,
Joy seiz'd her wither'd veins, and one bright gleam
Of setting life shone on her evening hours:
Not less enraptur'd than the happy pair;
Who flourish'd long in tender bliss, and reard
A numerous offspring, lovely like themselves,
And good, the grace of all the country round.

THE UNIVERSAL PRAYER.

BY POPE.

Father of all! in ev'ry age,

In ev'ry clime ador'd,
By saint, by savage, and by sage,

Jehovah, Jove, or Lord!

Thou great first cause, least understood;

Who all my sense confin'd
To know but this, that thou art good,

And that myself am blind.

Yet gave me, in this dark estate,

To see the good from ill;
And, binding nature fast in fate,

Left free the human will.

What conscience dictates to be done,

Or warns me not to do, This, teach me more than hell to shun,

That more than heaven pursue.

What blessings thy free bounty gives,

Let me not cast away;
For God is paid when man receives,

T' enjoy is to obey.

Yet not to earth's contracted span

Thy goodness let me bound,
Or think thee Lord alone of man,

When thousand worlds are round:

Let not this weak, unknowing hand

Presume thy bolts to throw,
And deal damnation round the land

On each I judge thy foe.

If I am right, thy grace impart,

Still in the right to stay;
If I am wrong, oh teach my heart

To find that better way.

Save me alike from foolish pride,

Or impious discontent,
At aught thy wisdom has deny'd,

Or aught thy goodness lent.

Teach me to feel another's woe,

To hide the fault I see;
That
mercy

I to others show,
That mercy show to me.

Mean though I am, not wholly so,

Since quicken'd by thy breath; O lead me wheresoe'er I go,

Through this day's life or death.

This day, be bread and peace my lot:

All else beneath the sun, Thou know'st if best bestow'd or not,

And let thy will be done.

To thee, whose temple is all space,

Whose altar, earth, sea, skies ! One chorus let all beings raise !

All nature's incense rise!

A FATHER'S ADVICE

TO HIS SON.

BY G. COOPER.

Deep in a grove by cypress shaded,

Where mid-day sun has seldom shone, Or noise the solemn scene invaded,

Save some afflicted Muse's moan.

A swain, tow'rds full-ag'd manhood wending,

Sat sorrowing at the close of day, At whose fond side a boy, attending,

Lisp'd half his father's cares away.

The father's eyes no object wrested,

But on the smiling prattler hung, 'Till what his throbbing heart suggested,

These accents trembled from his tongue.

'My youth's first hope, my manhood's treasure,

My dearest innocent, attend,
Nor fear rebuke, or sour displeasure,

A father's loveliest name is Friend.

“Some truths from long experience fowing,

Worth more than royal grants, receive; For truths are wealth of Heaven's bestowing,

Which kings have seldom pow'r to give.

“Since from an ancient race descended,

You boast an unattainted blood, By yours be their fair fame attended,

And claim by birthrightto be good.

so In love for every fellow-creature

Superior rise above the crowd; What most ennobles human nature

Was ne'er the portion of the proud.

“Be thine the generous heart that borrows

From other's joys a friendly glow,
And for each hapless neighbour's sorrows;

Throbs with a sympathetic woe.

" This is the temper most endearing,

Though wide proud Pomp her banner spread; And heavenly pow'r Good-nature bearing,

Each heart in willing thraldum lead.

“ Taste not from Fame's uncertain fountain

The peace-destroying streams that flow, Nor from Ambition’s dangerous nountain

Look down upon the world below.

“The princely pine on hills exalted,

Whose lofty branches cleave the sky, By winds long brav'd, at last assaulted,

Is headlong whirl'd in dust to lie;