This moveable structure of shelves,

For its beauty admired and its use, And charged with octavos and twelves,

The gayest I had to produce; Where, flaming in scarlet and gold,

My poems enchanted I view, And hope, in due time, to behold

My Iliad and Odyssey too :

This china, that decks the alcove,

Which here people call a buffet, But what the gods call it above

Has ne'er been reveal'd to us yet : These curtains, that keep the room warm,

Or cool, as the season demands; Those stoves, that for pattern and form,

Seem the labour of Mulciber's hands :

All these are not half that I owe

To one, from our earliest youth To me ever ready to show

Benignity, friendship, and truth ; For time, the destroyer declared,

And foe of our perishing kind, If even her face he has spared,

Much less could he alter her mind.

Thus compass'd about with the goods

And chattels of leisure and ease, I indulge my poetical moods

In many such fancies as these; And fancies I fear they will seem

Poets' goods are not often so fine; The poets will swear that I dream,

Wher. I sing of the splendour of mine,

ΤΟ

MY COUSIN, ANNE BODHAM,

ON

RECEIVING FROM HER A NET-WORK PURSE,

MADE BY HERSELF.

1793.

My gentle Anne, whom heretofore,
When I was young, and thou no more

Than plaything for a nurse,
I danced and fondled on my knee,
A kitten both in size and glee,

I thank thee for my purse.

Gold pays the worth of all things here ;
But not of love ;--that gem 's too dear

For richest rogues to win it :
I therefore, as a proof of love,
Esteem thy present far above

The best things kept within it.

Η Υ Μ Ν

FOR THE USE OF THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL AT

OLNEY.

HEAR, Lord, the song of praise and prayer

In heaven, thy dwelling-place,
From infants made the public care,

And taught to seek thy face.
Thanks for thy word, and for thy day;

And grant us, we implore,
Never to waste in sinful play

Thy holy sabbaths more.
Thanks that we hear !But O impart

To each desires sincere,
That we may listen with our heart,

And learn as well as hear.

For if vain thoughts the minds engage

Of older far than we,
What hope that at our heedless age

Our minds should e'er be free?

Much hope, if thou our spirits take

Under thy gracious sway,
Who canst the wisest wiser make,

And babes as wise as they.
Wisdom and bliss thy word bestows,

A sun that ne'er declines;
And be thy mercies shower'd on those

Who placed us where it shines.

STAN ZAS

SUBJOINED TO THE YEARLY BILL OF MORTALITY OF

THE PARISH OF ALL-SAINTS, NORTHAMPTON,'

ANNO DOMINI 1787.

Pallida Mors æquo pulsat pede pauperum tabernas,
Regumque turres.

Hor.
Pale Death with equal foot strikes wide the door
Of royal halls and hovels of the poor!

While thirteen moons saw smoothly run

The Nen's barge-laden wave,
All these, life's rambling journey done,

Have found their home, the grave.

Was man (frail always) made more frail

Than in foregoing years ?
Did famine or did plague prevail,

That so much death appears ?

No; these were vigorous as their sires,

Nor plague nor famine came;
This annual tribute Death requires,

And never waves his claim.

Composed for John Cox, parish-clerk of Northampton

Like crowded forest-trees we stand,

And some are mark'd to fall :
The axe will smite at God's command,

And soon shall smite us all.

Green as the bay-tree, ever green,

With its new foliage on,
The gay, the thoughtless, have I seen ;

I pass'd—and they were gone.

Read, ye that run, the awful truth

With which I charge my page : A worm is in the bud of youth,

And at the root of age.

No present health can health ensure

For yet an hour to come;
No medicine, though it oft can cure,

Can always balk the tomb.

Aud, O! that, humble as my lot,

And scorn'd as is my strain, These truths, though known, too much forgot,

I may not teach in vain.

So prays your clerk with all his heart,

And, ere he quits the pen,
Begs you for once to take his part,

And answer all-Amen!

D