"What tenant of the sea or air
Can with the Nautilus compare,
In colours gay attir'd;
I've seen, nor visited in vain,
Most countries bord'ring on the main,
And been in all admir'd.
Secure I brave the polar gale,
Beneath the line I trim my sail,
In either tropic found;
Where'er a ship may go I go,
Ι
Nor fear like her a treach'rous foe,
The rock, the hidden ground.
The distant canvass I descry
Of commerce, hanging in the sky,
That bounds the Atlantic wave.
I share with hostile fleets, who ride
Victorious on the subject tide,
The empire ocean gave.
Alas! how different is the lot
Of that poor oyster thus forgot,
Unpitied and unknown:
Is it by chance or adverse fate,
Or cruel nature's stepdame hate,
He's here condemn'd to groan?
The splendours of the orb of day
Scarce visits with a twilight ray,
The bed where low he lies;
And whence he never can remove,
To gayer scenes forbid to rove,
E'en here he lives and dies.
My claims may well his envy raise,
Establish'd on the gen'ral praise
Bestow'd where e'er I go."
He ceas'd-when, lo! amaz'd to hear,
This gentle answer to his ear!
Came bubbling from below!
"Your pity spare, my gaudy friend,
Your eloquence I might commend
Had truth conviction lent:
I neither fate nor nature blame,
An oyster's looks produce no shame,
He lives upon content.
The power to go where one may choose,
So much esteem'd, I would refuse;
No wish have I to rove.
And brilliant hues and glossy side
Serve but to nourish silly pride;
Yourself this truth will prove.
How falsely do they judge, who take
A fair exterior when they make
Their estimate of good.
Know, friend, I willingly conceal
A pearl within this russet shell,
Whose form you think so rude.
The gem by monarchs may be worn, "Twill beauty's polish'd brow adorn; Nor shall its lustre fade:
When death has sunk, with cruel blow,
Thy evanescent brightness low,
"Twill glitter undecay'd."
My tale, dear Stella, feign'd may be,
Yet may the moral, found in thee,
Convey instruction sweet:
Far from unmeaning fashion's throng,
Through life's calmn by-paths steal along
Thy cautious, steady feet.
No wish to change, contented thou
See'st others change. Thou seest how
The gay their rattles prize-
Their show and their fatiguing rules, (Alike the idle toil of fools,
And folly of the wise.)
Thy strong and contemplative mind
Has felt its early pow'rs refin'd,
By all the lore of truth:
Severely pois'd her equal scale,
Thou saw'st how little did avail
The fleeting charms of youth:
And giving to thy God thy heart,
Hast chosen Mary's better part;
In this shalt thou rejoice:
Long shall thy secret soul possess
That treasure which alone can bless-
The pearl of countless price.
WHEN first the nuptial state we prove,
We live the happy life of love;
But when familiar charms no more
Inspire the bliss they gave before,
Each less delighting, less is lov'd;
First this, then that, is disapprov❜d,
Complaisance flies, neglect succeeds:
Neglect, disdain and hatred breeds.
"Twas thus a pair, who long time prov'd
The joys to love and be belov'd,
At length fell out for trifling things;
From trifles, anger chiefly springs.
The wish to please forsook each breast,
Love's throne by baseless rage possess'd;
Resolv'd to part, they meet no more;
Enough-the chariot's at the door.
The mansion was my lady's own;
Sir John resolved to live in town;
Writings were drawn, each cause agreed,
Both vowed they'd ne'er recall the deed.
The chariot waits, why this delay?
The sequel shall the cause display.
One lovely girl the lady bore,
Dear pledge of joys she tastes no more;
The father's, mother's darling; she
Now lisp'd and prattled on each knee.
Sir John when rising to depart,
Turn'd to the darling of his heart,
And cry'd, with ardour in his eye,
"Come Betsey, bid mama good-bye:"
The lady, trembling, answered, "no-
Go kiss papa, my Betsey, go;
The child shall live with me"-she cry'd;
"The child shall chuse"-sir John reply'd.
Poor Betsey look'd at each by turns,
And each the starting tear discerns.
My lady asks with doubt and fear,
"Will you not live with me, my dear?”
"Yes," half resolv'd, reply'd the child,
And half suppress'd her tears; she smild.
"Come Betsey," cried sir John, "you'll go
And live with dear papa, I know."
"Yes," Betsey cry'd the lady then
Address'd the wond'ring child again:
The time to live with both is o'er,
This day we part to meet no more;
Chuse then"-here grief o'erflow'd her breast
And tears burst out, too long suppress'd.
The child, who tears and chiding join'd,
Suppos'd papa displeas'd, unkind,
And try'd with all her little skill,
To soothe his oft relenting will:
"Do," cry'd the lisper, "papa, do,
Love dear mama! mama loves you."
Subdued, the source of manly pride,
No more his looks his heart beli'd;
The tender transport forc'd its way,
They both confess'd each other's sway;
And, prompted by the social smart,
Breast rush'd to breast, and heart to heart.
Each clasp'd their Betsey, o'er and o'er,
And Tom drove empty from the door.
You that have passions for a tear,
Give nature vent, and drop it here.
THERE often wanders one, whom better days
Saw better clad, in cloak of satin trimm'd
With lace, and hat with splendid ribband bound,
A serving maid was she, and fell in love
With one who left her, went to sea, and died.
Her fancy followed him through foaming waves
To distant shores; and she would sit and weep
At what a sailor suffers. Fancy too,
Delusive most where warmest wishes are,
Would oft anticipate his glad return,
And dream of transports she was not to know.
She heard the doleful tidings of his death,
And never smil'd again. And now she roams
The dreary waste-there spends the livelong day;
And there, unless when charity forbids,
The livelong night. A tatter'd apron hides,
Worn as a cloak, and hardly hides, a gown
More tatter'd still; and both but ill conceal
A bosom heav'd with never-ceasing sighs.
She begs an idle pin of all she meets,
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