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ON A SIMILAR OCCASION,
FOR THE YEAR 1793.
De sacris autem hæc sit una sententia, ut conserventur.
CIC DE LEG. But let us all concur in this one sentiment, that things sacred be inviolate.
He lives, who lives to God alone,
And all are dead beside;
Whence life can be supplied.
To live to God is to requite
His love as best we may:
His promises our stay.
But life, within a narrow ring
Of giddy joys compris’d,
But rather death disguis’d.
Can life in them deserve the name.
Who only live to prove
An endless life above?
Who, much diseas'd, yet nothing feel;
Much menac'd, nothing dread; Have wounds, which only God can heal
Yet never ask his aid?
Who deem his house an useless place,
Faith, want of common sense; And ardour in the Christian race,
A hypocrite's pretence?
Who trample order; and the day,
Which God asserts his own, Dishonour with unhallow'd play,
And worship chance alone?
If scoru of God's commands, impressid
On word and deed, imply
With life that cannot die;
Such want it, and that want, uncur'd
Till man resigns his breath, Speaks him a criminal, assur'd
Of everlasting death.
Sad period to a pleasant course!
Yet so will God repay Sabbaths profan'd without remorse,
And mercy cast away.
Pause here, and think; a monitory rhime
Consult life's silent clock, thy bounding vein;
EPITAPH ON A HARE.
Here lies, whom hound did ne'er pursue
Nor swifter greyhound follow, Whose foot ne'er tainted morning dew,
Nor ear heard huntsman's hallo'.
Old Tiney, surliest of his kind,
Who, nurs’d with tender care, And to domestic bounds confin'd,
Was still a wild Jack-hare.
Though duly from my hand he took
His pittance ev'ry night, He did it with a jealous look,
And, when he could, would bite.
His diet was of wheaten bread,
And milk, and oats, and straw; Thistles, or lettuces instead,
With sand to scour his maw.