"The blood forsook her face: amidst the flood "Pour'd from her cheeks, quite fix'd her eye-b.a.l.l.s "stood.

"Her tongue, her palate both obdurate grew, "Her curdled veins no longer motion knew; "The use of neck, and arms, and feet was gone, "And ev'n her bowels hard'ned into stone: "A marble statue now the queen appears, "But from the marble steal the silent tears."

To S. M. a young African Painter, on seeing his Works.

TO show the lab'ring bosom's deep intent, And thought in living characters to paint, When first thy pencil did those beauties give, And breathing figures learnt from thee to live, How did those prospects give my soul delight, A new creation rushing on my sight?

Still, wond'rous youth! each n.o.ble path pursue, On deathless glories fix thine ardent view: Still may the painter's and the poet's fire To aid thy pencil, and thy verse conspire!

And may the charms of each seraphic theme Conduct thy footsteps to immortal fame!

High to the blissful wonders of the skies Elate thy soul, and raise thy wishful eyes.

Thrice happy, when exalted to survey That splendid city, crown'd with endless day, Whose twice six gates on radiant hinges ring: Celestial Salem blooms in endless spring.

Calm and serene thy moments glide along, And may the muse inspire each future song!

Still, with the sweets of contemplation bless'd, May peace with balmy wings your soul invest!

But when these shades of time are chas'd away, And darkness ends in everlasting day, On what seraphic pinions shall we move, And view the landscapes in the realms above?

There shall thy tongue in heav'nly murmurs flow, And there my muse with heav'nly transport glow: No more to tell of Damon's tender sighs, Or rising radiance of Aurora's eyes, For n.o.bler themes demand a n.o.bler strain, And purer language on th' ethereal plain.

Cease, gentle muse! the solemn gloom of night Now seals the fair creation from my sight.

To his Honour the Lieutenant-Governor, on the Death of his Lady. March 24, 1773.

ALL-Conquering Death! by thy resistless pow'r, Hope's tow'ring plumage falls to rise no more!

Of scenes terrestrial how the glories fly, Forget their splendors, and submit to die!

Who ere escap'd thee, but the saint * of old Beyond the flood in sacred annals told, And the great sage, + whom fiery coursers drew To heav'n's bright portals from Elisha's view; Wond'ring he gaz'd at the refulgent car, Then s.n.a.t.c.h'd the mantle floating on the air.

From Death these only could exemption boast, And without dying gain'd th' immortal coast.

Not falling millions sate the tyrant's mind, Nor can the victor's progress be confin'd.

But cease thy strife with Death, fond Nature, cease: He leads the virtuous to the realms of peace;

* Enoch. + Elijah.

His to conduct to the immortal plains, Where heav'n's Supreme in bliss and glory reigns.

There sits, ill.u.s.trious Sir, thy beauteous spouse; A gem-blaz'd circle beaming on her brows.

Hail'd with acclaim among the heav'nly choirs, Her soul new-kindling with seraphic fires, To notes divine she tunes the vocal strings, While heav'n's high concave with the music rings.

Virtue's rewards can mortal pencil paint?

No--all descriptive arts, and eloquence are faint; Nor canst thou, Oliver, a.s.sent refuse To heav'nly tidings from the Afric muse.

As soon may change thy laws, eternal fate, As the saint miss the glories I relate; Or her Benevolence forgotten lie, Which wip'd the trick'ling tear from Misry's eye.

Whene'er the adverse winds were known to blow, When loss to loss * ensu'd, and woe to woe, Calm and serene beneath her father's hand She sat resign'd to the divine command.

No longer then, great Sir, her death deplore, And let us hear the mournful sigh no more, Restrain the sorrow streaming from thine eye, Be all thy future moments crown'd with joy!

Nor let thy wishes be to earth confin'd, But soaring high pursue th' unbodied mind.

Forgive the muse, forgive th' advent'rous lays, That fain thy soul to heav'nly scenes would raise.

A Farewel to AMERICA. To Mrs. S. W.

I.

ADIEU, New-England's smiling meads, Adieu, the flow'ry plain: I leave thine op'ning charms, O spring, And tempt the roaring main.

II.

In vain for me the flow'rets rise, And boast their gaudy pride, While here beneath the northern skies I mourn for health deny'd.

III.

Celestial maid of rosy hue, O let me feel thy reign!

I languish till thy face I view, Thy vanish'd joys regain.

IV.

Susanna mourns, nor can I bear To see the crystal show'r, Or mark the tender falling tear At sad departure's hour;

V.

Not unregarding can I see Her soul with grief opprest: But let no sighs, no groans for me, Steal from her pensive breast.

VI.

In vain the feather'd warblers sing, In vain the garden blooms, And on the bosom of the spring Breathes out her sweet perfumes.

VII.

While for Britannia's distant sh.o.r.e We sweep the liquid plain, And with astonish'd eyes explore The wide-extended main.

VIII.

Lo! Health appears! celestial dame!

Complacent and serene, With Hebe's mantle o'er her Frame, With soul-delighting mein.

IX.

To mark the vale where London lies With misty vapours crown'd, Which cloud Aurora's thousand dyes, And veil her charms around.

X.

Why, Phoebus, moves thy car so slow?

So slow thy rising ray?

Give us the famous town to view, Thou glorious king of day!

XI.

For thee, Britannia, I resign New-England's smiling fields; To view again her charms divine, What joy the prospect yields!

XII.

But thou! Temptation hence away, With all thy fatal train, Nor once seduce my soul away, By thine enchanting strain.