POETRY.

SUCH an elegant, pleafing foftnefs dwells in Mifs Carter's Poems, that they cannot fail of charming the reader: The lady who wrote them feems to poffefs a fenfible, benevolent turn of mind, which is very confpicuous in the following fpecimens:

то MESS

BY MISS ELISA CARTER.

THE midnight moon ferenely smiles

O'er nature's foft repofe,

No low ring cloud obfcures the fkies,

Nor ruling tempeft blows.

Now every paffion finks to reft,
The throbbing heart lies still,,
And varying schemes of life no more
Dilract the labouring will.

In filence hufh'd, to reason's voice
Attends each mental power;
Come, dear Amanda, and enjoy
Reflection's favourite hour.

Come, while this peaceful fcene invites,,
Let's fearch this ample round;
Where shall the lovely fleeting form.
Of happiness be found?

Howe'er our varying notions rove,
All yet agree, in one,

To place its being in fome ftate,
At diftance from our own.

O! blind to each indulgent gift
Of power, fupremely wife,
Who fancy happiness in aught
That Providence denies.

Vain is alike the joy we feek,
And vain what we poffefs,
Unless harmonious reafon tunes

The paffions into peace.

To temp'rate bounds, to few defires,

Is happiness confin'd;

And, deaf to folly's noife, attends
The mufic of the mind.

O! LET me still with fimple nature live,

My low field-flowers on her altar lay ;
Enjoy the bleffings that she meant to give,

And calmly wafte my inoffenfive day.

No

No titl'd name, no envy-teafing dome,
No glittering wealth my tutor'd wishes crave;
So health and peace be near my humble home,
A cool ftream murmur and a green tree wave.

Thus glide the penfive moments o'er the vale, While floating fhades of dufky night defcend; Nor left untold the moral tender tale, Nor unenjoy'd the heart-enlarging friends

To love and friendship flow the focial bowl, To attic wit and elegance of mind; To all the native beauties of the soul, To fimple charms of truth and fense refin❜d:

Delightful hours! O thus for ever flow,
Led by fair fancy round the varied year ;
So fhall my breast with native raptures glow,
Nor feel one pang from folly, pride, or fear.

Firm be my heart to Nature and to Truth, Nor vainly wander from their dictates fage ; So joy fhall triumph on the brows of youth, So Hope shall smooth the dreary paths of age.

A BIRTH-DAY ODE.

BY MISS CARTER.

THOU Power Supreme, by whofe command I live, The grateful tribute of my praise receive;

To thy indulgence I my being owe,

And all the joys that from that being flow.

Scarce eighteen funs have form'd the rolling years,
And run their deftin'd courses round the spheres,
Since thou my undistinguish'd frame furvey'd
Among the lifeless heaps of matter laid..
Thy skill the elemental clay refin'd,

The ftraggling parts in beauteous order join'd,
With perfect fymmetry compos'd the whole,
And ftamp'd thy facred image on my foul:
A foul fufceptible of endless joy,.

Whose frame nor force nor time shall e'er destroy,
But shall fubfift when Nature claims my breath,
And bid defiance to the power of death;

To realms of blifs with active freedom foar,
And live when earth and skies fhall be no more.
Indulgent God! in vain my tongue effays,
For this immortal gift to speak thy praise.
How fhall my heart its grateful sense reveal,
Where all the energy of words must fail !
Oh! may its influence in my life appear,,
And every action prove my thoughts fincere!
Grant me, great God, a heart to thee inclin❜d,
Increase my faith, to rectify my mind.
Teach me betimes to tread thy facred. ways,
And to thy fervice confecrate my days.
Still as thro' life's uncertain maze I ftray,
Be thou the guiding star to mark my way ;:
Conduct the fteps of my unguarded youth,
And point their motions to the paths of truth.
Protect me with thy providential care,
And teach my foul t'avoid the tempter's fnare.

Thro