THOUGHTS ON MIDNIGHT.

CARTER.

WHILE night in solemn shade invests the pole,
And calm reflection sooths the pensive soul;
While reason undisturb'd asserts her sway,
And life's deceitful colours fade away:
To thee, All conscious Presence! I devote
This peaceful interval of sober thought:
Here all my better faculties confine,
And be this hour of sacred silence thine.

If by the day's illusive scenes misled, My erring soul from virtue's path has strayed: If, by example snar'd, by passion warm'd, Some false delight my giddy sense has charm'd, My calmer thoughts the wretched choice reprove, And my best hopes are center'd in thy love. Depriv'd of this, can life one joy afford! Its utmost boast a vain unmeaning word.

But ah! how oft my lawless passions rove, And break those awful precepts I approve! Pursue the fatal impulse I abhor,

And violate the virtue I adore!

Oft when thy gracious spirit's guardian care Warn'd my fond soul to shun the tempting snare, My stubborn will his gentle aid represt,

And check'd the rising goodness in my breast, Mad with vain hopes, or urg'd by false desires, Still'd his soft voice, and quench'd his sacred fires.

With grief opprest, and prostrate in the dust, Should'st thou condemn, I own the sentence just: But oh! thy softer titles let me claim,

And plead my cause by mercy's gentle name.

Mercy, that wipes the penitential tear,
And dissipates the horror of despair;

From rig'rous Justice steals the vengeful hour;
Softens the dreadful attribute of pow'r ;
Disarms the wrath of an offended God,
And seals my pardon in a Saviour's blood.

All pow'rful grace! exert thy gentle sway,
And teach my rebel passions to obey:
Lest lurking folly, with insidious art,
Regain my volatile inconstant heart.
Shall every high resolve devotion frames,
Be only lifeless sounds and specious names?
Or rather while thy hopes and fears controul,
In this still hour, each motion of my soul,
Secure its safety by a sudden doom,

And be the soft retreat of sleep my tomb.
Calm let me slumber in that dark repose,
'Till the last morn its orient beams disclose :
Then, when the great Archangel's potent sound,
Shall echo thro' Creation's ample round,
Wak'd from the sleep of death, with joy survey
The op'ning splendors of eternal day.

THE ORPHANS.

ANONYMOUS.

MY chaise the village inn did gain,
Just as the setting sun's last ray
Tipt with refulgent gold the vane
Of the old church across the way.

Across the way I silent sped,

The time till supper to beguile

In moralizing o'er the dead,

That moulder'd round the ancient pile.

A A

There many an humble green grave shew'd
Where want, and pain, and toil did rest;
And many a flatt'ring stoue I view'd,

O'er those who once had wealth possess'd.

A faded beech its shadow brown
Threw o'er a grave where sorrow slept;
On which, tho' scarce with grass o'ergrown,
Two ragged children sat and wept.

A piece of bread between them lay,
Which neither seem'd inclin'd to take;
And yet they look'd so much a prey
To want, it made my heart to ache.

My little children, let me know

Why you in such distress appear? And why you wastful from you throw,

That bread which many a heart would cheer?

The little boy, in accents sweet,

Replied, whilst tears each other chas'd, <s Lady, we've not enough to eat,

"And if we had, we would not waste.

"But sister Mary's naughty grown,
"And will not eat, whate'er I say,
"Tho' sure I am, the bread's her own,
"And she has tasted none to-day."

"Indeed, (the wan starv'd Mary said)
""Till Henry eats I'll eat no more;
For yesterday I got some bread ;
"He's had none since the day before,"
My heart did swell, my bosom heave;
I felt as tho' depriv'd of speech—
I silent sat upon the grave,

And press'd a clay cold hand of each,

With looks that told a tale of woe,
With looks that spoke a grateful heart,
The shiv'ring boy did nearer draw,
And thus their tale of woe impart :-

"Before my father went away,
"Entic'd by bad men o'er the sea,
"Sister and I did nought but play-
"We liv'd beside yon great ash tree.
"But then poor mother did so cry,

"And look'd so chang'd, I cannot tell;
"She told us that she soon should die,
"And bade us love each other well.

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"She said that when the war was o'er, Perhaps we might our father see: "But if we never saw him more,

That God our father then would be.

"She kiss'd us both. and then she died,
"And we no more a mother have-
"Here many a day we sat and cried

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Together on poor mother's grave.

"But when our father came not here,
"I thought if we could find the sea,
"We should be sure to meet him there,
"And once again might happy be.

"We hand in hand went many a mile,
"And ask'd our way of all we met,
"And some did sigh, and some did smile,
"And we of some did victuals get.

"But when we reach'd the sea, and found
"'Twas one great water round us spread,
"We thought that father must be drown'd,
"And cried, and wish'd us both were dead.

"So we return'd to mother's grave,
"And only long with her to be;
"For Goody, when this bread she gave,
"Said father died beyond the sea.

"Then since no parents have we here,
"We'll go and seek for God around;

"Lady! pray can you tell us where

"That God our father may be found?

"He lives in Heaven, mother said,
"And Goody says that mother's there;
"So if she knows we want his aid

"I think, perhaps, she'll send him here.”

I clasp'd the prattlers to my heart,

And cried, Come both and live with me-
I'll cloth ye, feed ye, give ye rest,
And will a second mother be.

And God will be your father still-
'Twas he in mercy sent me here,
To teach ye to obey his will,

Your steps to guide, your hearts to cheer.

LINES,

Written extempore on the Sea Shore.

CARTER.

THOU restless fluctuating deep,
Expressive of the human mind,
In thy for ever varying form,
My own inconstant self I find,
How soft now flow thy peaceful waves,
In just gradations to the shore:-
While on thy brow unclouded shines
The regent of the midnight hour.

Blest emblem of that equal state

Which I this moment feel within;
Where thought to thought succeeding rolls,
And all is placid and serene.

As o'er thy smoothly-flowing tide,

Their light the trembling moon-beams dart,

My lov'd Eudocia's image smiles

And gaily brightens all my heart,