Behold the market place with poor o'erspread!
The Man of Ross divides the weekly bread;
He feeds yon alms-house, neat, but void of state,
Where Age and Want sit smiling at the gate :
Him portion'd maids, apprentic'd orphans blest,

who labour and the old who relt.
Is any fick? The Man of Ross relieves,
Prescribes, attends, the med’cine makes, and gives.
Is there a variance ? Enter but his door,
Balk'd are the courts, and conteft is no more ;)
Despairing quacks with curses filed the place,
And vile attornies, now a useless race.

Thrice happy man! enabled to pursue
What all so wish, but want the power to do!
Oh! say what sums that generous hand supply:
What mines, to swell that boundless charity ?
Of debts and taxes, wife and children clear,
This man possess’d--five hundred pounds a-year.
Blush, Grandeur, blush! proud Courts withdraw your blaze!
Ye little stars! hide your diminish'd rays.
And what! no monument, inscription, stone ?
His race, his form, his name almost unknown!
Who builds a church to God, and not to fame,
Will never mark the marble with his name :
Go search it there, where to be born and die,
Of rich and poor makes all the history;
Enough, chat Virtue fill'd the space between ;
Prov'd by the ends of being to have been.




THE COUNTRY CLERGYMAN. Near yonder cople, where once the garden smild, And still where many a garden-flower grows

There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose,
The village preacher's modest manfion rose.
A man he was, to all the country dear,
And pafling rich with forty pounds a year ;
Remote from towns he ran his godly race,
Nor e'er had chang'd, nor wish'd to change his place;
Unpractic'd he to fawn or seek for power,
By doctrines fashion'd to the varying hour ;
Far other aims his heart had learn’d to prize,
More skill'd to raise the wretched than to rise.
His house was known to all the vagrant train,
He chid their wand'rings, but reliev'd their pain. -
The long remember'd beggar was his guest,
Whose beard descending swept his aged breast;
The ruin'd spendthrift, now no longer proud,
Claim'd kindred there, and had his claims allow'd;
The broken soldier, kindly bade to fay;
Sat by his fire and talk'd the night away ;
Wept o'er his wounds, or tales of sorrow done,
Shoulder'd his crutch, and shew'd how fields were won.
Pleas'd with his guests, the good man learn'd to glow,
And quite forgot their vices in their woe;
Careless their merits, or their faults to scan,
His pity gave, e'er charity began.

Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride,
And even his failings lean'd to Virtue’s fide;


But in his duty prompt at every call,
He watch'd and wept, he pray’d and felt for all.
And, as a bird each fond endearment tries,
To tempt its new-fledg'd offspring to the skies;
He tried each art, reprov'd each dull delay,
Allur'd to brighter worlds, and led the way.

Beside the bed where parting life was laid,
And sorrow, guilt, and pain, by turns dismay'd,
The reverend champion stood. At his controul,
Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul;
Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raise,
And his last falt’ring accents whisper'd praise.

At church, with meek and unaffected grace;
His looks adorn'd the venerable place;
Truth from his lips prevail'd with double sway,
And fools who came to scoff remain'd to pray,
The service past, around the pious man,
With ready zeal each honest rustic ran;
E’en children follow'd with endearing wile,
And pluck'd his gown, to share the good man's smile ;
His ready smile a parent's warmth expreft,
Their welfare pleas’d him, and their cares distrest;
To them his heart, his love, his griefs, were giv'n,
But all his serious thoughts had rest in heav'n.
As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form,
Swells from the vale and midway leaves the storm,
Tho'round its breast the rolling clouds are spread,
Eternal sunshine settles on its head.



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CONTENTMENT, parent of delight,

So much a stranger to our fight,
Say, goddefs, in what happy place,
Mortals bebold thy blooming face;
Thy gracious auspices impart,
And for thy temple choose my heart.
They whom thou deigneft to inspire,
Thy science learn, to bound desire;
By happy alchmy of mind
They turn to pleasure all they find,
They both disdain in outward mien
The grave and folemn garb of spleen,
And meritricious arts of dress,
To feign a joy and hide distress :
Unmov'd when the rude tempest blows,
Without an opiate they repose ;
And cover'd by your shield defy
The whizzing shafts, that round them fly:
Nor meddling with the gods' affairs,
Concern themselves with diftant cares;
But place their bliss in mental rest,
And feast upon the good poffess’d.

Forc'd by soft violence of pray'r
The blithsome goddess soothes my care ;
I feel the deity inspire,
And thus the models my degre.
Two hundred pounds, half-yearly paid,
Annuity securely made,

A farm

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A farm some twenty miles from town,
Small, tight, falubrious, and my own;
Two maids that never saw the town,
A serving-man, not quite a clown ;
A boy to help to tread the mow,
And drive while t'other holds the plough;
A chief of temper form'd to please,
Fit to converse and keep the keys;
And better to preserve the peace
Commission'd by the name of niece;
"With understandings of a fize
To think their master very wise.
May Heav'n (it's all I wish for) fend
One genial room to treat a friend,
Where decent cup-board, little plate,
Display benevolence, not state.
And may my humble dwelling stand
Upon some chosen spot of land;
A pond before, full to the brim,
Where cows, and geefę may fwim ;
Behind, a green like velvet neat,
Soft to the eye, and to the feet;
Where od'rous plants in evening fair
Breathe all around ambrosial air;
From Eurus, foe to kitchen ground,
Fenc'd by a flope with bushes crown'd;
Fit dwelling for the feather'd throng,
Who pay their quit-rents with a song;
With op'ning views of hill and dale,
Which sense and fancy too regale,
Where the half-cirque, which vision bounds,
Like amphitheatre surrounds;

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