LINES
ON THE DEATH OF
DAVID TAPPAN, D. D.
Late Profeffor of Theology in Harvard College.
BE gone, ye guileful lurements of the world!
And leave one melancholy hour to grief;
When hope is blighted, and the heart is fad,
To muse and weep is privileg'd relief.
While Heaven's illum'd with ever-living light,
The earth is fhrouded and its pomp withdrawn ;
'Tis folemn now to gaze upon the sky,
And mark where late a fainted shade has gone.
Celestial spirit! thou art welcome there;
Protecting angels claim'd thee to be bleft!
Pilgrim on earth, thy thoughts were plac'd in heaven
And there alone thy spirit fought its reft.
Tho' thou art happy in a better world,
Still thou art gone, and tears are nature's debt.
Then let these flowings of a wounded heart
Express thy merit and its own regret.
In vain the grave conceals the mouldering duft;
I still thy living form and mien recall.
Still can I fee thy face with goodness beam,
And think I hear thy pious accents fall.
Legate of heaven! how didft thou feel thy truft!
How did thy bofom beat with holy zeal !
Touch'd by the pathos of thy prayer, the heart,
Tho' paralyzed by fin, was made to feel.
So humbly didft thou bear the proudest rank,
That modeft youth thy converse sweet would feek;
So fair thy mind, fhone in thy open mien,
Thy look exprefs'd it, ere thy tongue could fpeak.
Thrice happy they, who form'd thy tender care,
And in thy life faw thy religion prov'd;
How muft they love that influence divine,
Which cherish'd and infpir'd the man they lov'd.
And, blessed spirit, ftill the grateful heart
Follows thy flight to yon celeftial sphere;
It fees thee join the kindred choir of faints,
In hymning fongs while lift'ning angels hear.
OR, WHAT YOU WILL.
WHAT feats are acted in the skies
Are prefent to the mufe's eyes :
So Homer fings, whofe mufe made known
What paft at Cloud-compeller's throne.
Tho' mine, a bafhful flut, affumes.
No birth fo near the parlour rooms,
Like Helen, at her weaving fits,
Or fings her forrows, while fhe knits;
Yet, lately fill'd with courage equal,
She wrought her fampler with the fequel.
When laft was swept the ftar-pav'd floor,-
(And in the moon dropt many more,-)
Our earth this, like a meteor, fought,
And left her to be fcolded for't.
The Graces, when too young to feel
Difgrace at being ungenteel;
Ere madam Venus took upon her
To use them for her maids of honour ;
And fimple, as a turtle dove,
That feeds on flies, fplit-peas and love;
Came down, where fat my mufe a ftitching,
And rais'd a riot in the kitchen.
Fatigu'd with romping, (what the harm
About the hearth to chat and warm-
The fire with tongs and fhovel punch,
Or try the tricks of mother Bunch.)
How pointed every falling brand,
How crowd the fparks on either hand,
On whom the ftarry volume roll'd,
They watch as figns, that fate unfold.
But ah, they ne'er believed it true,
Who plays with fire will quarrel too!
And now effaying to discover
For whom fhould figh the first fond lover,
By damp unbroke, green chefnuts ftrewing
Upon the hearth with embers glowing
They fee, ah cause of dire mishap,
They fee, alone in Thalia's lap
Whole crowds of smoking kernels fhot-
(Unfailing sign of luckiest lot.)
Terpfecorne now looking round
Some meaning for the omen found,
For Mars, than any red-coat bolder,
Was peeping over Thalia's fhoulder,
Just like the devil when he's spoke on
With all the lover's pining look on.
Now was the time, alas, ye mufes,
Could heavenly minds bear fuch abuses!
That Envy, ragged imp of fpite,
And twinborn with the fiend of night,
At whofe vile birth the Gorgons fcream'd
And east winds blew and lightning stream'd-
That Envy down the chimney broke
And round them bruft'd the blinding smoke.
His eyes of microscopic fight
On fudden cause of mischief light,
To kindle which he calls his fellows
To bring his ftrife-inflaming bellows.
Quickly his eyes, with jaundice speckled,
Obferve that Thalia's cheek was freckled,
And further down fuccessful stole,
Disclosing on her neck a mole.
With gladness reddening, like a blifter,
He whisper'd Phrofy and her fifter,
And of the contrast made a handle,
To make them learn and love to fcandal.
Of painted faces then they hinted,
Of borrow'd fhapes and looks that fquinted.
Mifs Thalia, nettled by fuch joking,
Declared 'twas fhameful, rude, provoking,
And prinking up her head and ftomach,
Vow'd, fhe their meaning could not come at.
Although unus'd to vaunt her own,
She wifh'd her merit fully known,
And hence appeal'd to better judges
For the award, that Envy grudges.
The action brought-no matter how-
At Venus' court-obferve them now
Before the umpire ftanding fearless,
Give tokens each of beauty peerless.
One often laugh'd, her teeth to fhew,
In ruby fet a pearly row;
And all the charms of dimples prove,
Thofe very hiding holes of love.
Another's fighs and lifpings tell,
She has a heart fufceptible-
While this fo leer'd and danc'd fo wild,
As every limb and feature spoil'd;
That fcowling fat, as if she ftrove
To terrify them into love.
The queen, at length impatient grown,
Veil'd all her beauties in a frown,
And vex'd, they so mistook their natures,
Upstarting cri'd,-" out, out, you creatures-
Think ye fuch ftudied airs delight us,
Such tricks of monkies-out, you fright us!
And come, when next you aim to please,
'Ray'd in fimplicity and ease.
Difmifs dull art, that painted savage,
So watchful beauty's form to ravage;
Nor be the moral hint defpis'd
Within this accident compris'd.
For Envy 'twas, that firft began
To difarrange fair nature's plan;
Effayed by more distinct grimace
To rival e'en celeftial grace;
And fpurious ornaments invented
To make the vain be difcontented.
Hence Folly wears her cap and bells,
And Fashion all the rout impels ;
While scarcely Virtue dares to linger,
When Grandeur becks with gilded finger.
By no relenting foftness check'd
From poisoning, while he can infect,
The flippery fiend delights to glide
Unfeen within the weaker fide.
Surprising thus the heart of youth,
Ere principle attains its growth.
From that original were fent,
False wit and false accomplishment,
With fabrications that displace
Both native fenfe and native grace.
REMARKS ON NEW PUBLICATIONS.
The Peafant's Fate: a Rural Poem; with Mifcellaneous Poems, by WILLIAM HOLLOWAY.-Publifhed in London, 1802; in Boston, 1802; and in Philadelphia, 1804.
THE aim of the "Peafant's Fate" is a lamentation for the modern changes in the life and manners of the populace in England. The author implies in this poem, that avarice, or the spirit of monopolizing, has there gained fuch general and powerful influence, that benevolence and focial virtue feem to be almoft totally fuppreffed. The engroffing of fmall farms, by com. pelling the hereditary tenants to a military or a maritime occupation, or by forcing them to fervitude in the very places, that were formerly their own domains, is here reprefented, as the chief caufe of the inquietude and fufferings of the peafantry. Refinement and luxury, though they obviously promote trade
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