« VorigeDoorgaan »
Mr. John Sparhawk, 25 Copies
Capt. John Sparks
Mr. Samuel Spencer Skinner, New-York
Mr. Archibald Stewart, Andover Iron-Works
Rev. William Stringer
Mr. John Stone, Lancaster
Miss Betsey Story, Baltimore
Mr. Enoch Story, jun. ditto
Mr. Peter Stretch
Mr. Archibald Stuart
Mr. Henry Styles
Mrs. Mary Symonds
Mr. Walter Talley, jun. Baltimore County
Mr. Peter Tallman, Trenton
Mrs. Margaret Tarass
Mr. William Taylor, Goldsmith and Jeweller
James Tilghman, Esq;
Mr. Jonathan Thomas
Mr. John Thomas, Student in the College of Phila-
delphia. Mr. John Thomas, of West-River, Maryland Mr. Isaiah Thomas, Printer, Boston, New-England,
Rev. William Thompson, Trenton, 2 Copies
Mr. Joseph Thorne
Mr. John Todd
Mr. Thomas Towson, jun. Baltimore County
Mr. Benjamin Trapnel
Mr. Thomas Tillier
Philip Van Cortlandt, Esq; Jamaica, on Long-Island Dr. Benjamin Vanleer, Haddonfield, New-Jersey d
Mr. John Vardill, New-York
Mr. Æneas Urquhart
Mr. Michael Wallace, Maryland
Mr. John Wallis, New Jersey
Mr. William Walker, Printer, Bridge-Town, Barba-
dos, 30 Copies
Nicholas Waln, Esq;
Mr. Richard Waln
Stephen Watts, Efq; Attorney at Law
Mr. Anthony Wayne, East-Town, Chester County
Mr. John Webster, Upholder
Mr. John Webster, jun.
Mr. Robert Wells, Printer, Charlestown, South-
Carolina, 50 Copies
Mr. Joseph West,
Mr. Seth Whelldins, Cape-May
Capt. Robert White, Philadelphia
Mr. John Willcocks, 3 Copies
Rev. Alexander Williamson, George Town, Potow-
Mr. Jane Williams
Mr. Deborah Williams
Mr. Ennion Williams
Mr. John Wright
Mr. John Wright, Scrivener, Philadelphia
Jasper Yeates, Efq; Attorney at Law, Lancaster
Mr. William Young, Baltimore County
Mr. John Young, jun.
Mr. Charles Young
Mr. Alexander Young, Jamaica
Rev. NATHANIEL EVANS, Who departed this Life in his 26th Year; a dutiful and only Son of aged and affe£tionate Perents.
By L AUR A.
"LOW to yon Grave approaches STREPHON's Bier
Why down each Cheek descends the tender Tear?
When, unreclaim'd, the Vicious fall, we weep;
But with the virtuous Dead each Woe should seep ;
For Heav'n ordain'd, that Death should boast his Reign,
Ere the purgid Soul celestial Heights can gain.
Yet such a Train of dawning Virtues join'd,
To grace, in bright Affemblage, STREPHON's Mind,
Our Loss we mourn, nor think that such alone
Are those a gracious Saviour deigns to own—
That Thought, that cheering Thought, ye ancient Pair,
Must calm your Woe, and wipe the falling Tear;
There's nought besides can mitigate your Grief ;
No human Hand can minister Relief
A Son, a darling Son, your Maker gave!
Behold him breathless in yon gloomy Grave!
With every Virtue opening fair to View;
Loff to the World- A Season loft to you!
As fome fair Plant in blooming Verdure gay,
Refresh'd with Rain, beneath the solar Ray,
Kindly unfolds to fade its natal Earth,
In grateful Tribute for its genial Birth;
Till, from the North, some chilling Blast descends -
Instant, the Plant, beneath its Fury, bends,
Struggles awhile, and then—drops quite away
To fell Destruction a fair blooming Prey.
The Parent Soil, left defolate and bare,
Shrinks with each Ruffle of th’inclement Air.
Thus fell, ye mournful Pair, your Ages’ Prop;
Yet still Religion gives this cheering Hope,
That, when some Years have rolled their Cares away,
Your Souls, transported to the Realms of Day,
Shall join your STREPHON, who kept full in Sight
Those sacred Mansions of eternal Light.
A manly, modes Piety inform’d His searching Spirit, and his Bosom warm’d: Bleft with a Judgment, fteady, strong and clear, That sunn'd alike the Giddy and Severe, He scorn’d to drag stern Superstition's Chain, Or mingle with th' enthufiaftic Train! JEHOVAH's Justice filld bis Soul with Awe , Pet from E MANU E L's Love he learnt to draw That heav’nly Peace, which taught his Soul to singHis dying SoulO Death, where is thy Sting? O Grave, the Victor! where is now thy Boaft? Come, JESUS, come in Thee their Pangs are left!
HALL fam’d Arcadia own the tuneful choir,
And fair Sicilia boast the matchless lyre ?
Shall Gallia's groves resound with heav'nly lays,
And Albion's poets claim immortal bays ?
And this new world ne'er feel the muse's fire;
No beauties charm us, or no deeds inspire ?
O Pennsylvania ! shall no son of thine
Glow with the raptures of the sacred nine ?