Fall, round me fall, ye little things, MAN Speaker. Yet let that wisdom, urged by her example, When they have journey'd through a world of cares, Groans, weeping friends, indeed, and gloomy sables, Death, when unmask'd, shows me a friendly face, For as the line of life conducts me on To Death's great court, the prospect seems more fair. "Tis Nature's kind retreat, that's always open To take us in when we have drain'd the cup Of life, or worn our days to wretchedness. In that secure, serene retreat, Where all the humble, all the great, Promiscuously recline; Where wildly huddled to the eye, The beggar's pouch and prince's purple lie, And, ah! blest spirit, wheresoe'er thy flight, SONG. By a WOMAN. Lovely, lasting Peace below, Heav'nly born, and bred on high, And man contains it in his breast. WOMAN Speaker. Our vows are heard! long, long to mortal eyes, Where modest want and patient sorrow dwell; Want pass'd for merit at her door, Unseen the modest were supplied, Her constant pity fed the poor, Then only poor, indeed, the day she died. And, oh! for this, while sculpture decks thy shrine, And art exhausts profusion round, The tribute of a tear be mine, A simple song, a sigh profound. There Faith shall come, a pilgrim grey, To bless the tomb that wraps thy clay; To dwell a weeping hermit there. Truth, Fortitude, and Friendship shall agree, AIR. CHORus. Let us, let all the world agree, To profit by resembling thee. PART II. OVERTURE.-Pastorale. MAN Speaker. Fast by that shore where Thames' translucent stream, Where, splendid as the youthful poet's dream, The good old sire, unconscious of decay, Call on their mistress, now no more, and weep. Ye shady walks, ye waving greens, Ye nodding towers, ye fairy scenes, Let all your echoes now deplore, That she who formed your beauties is no more. MAN Speaker. First of the train the patient rustic came, Whose callous hand had form'd the scene, Bending at once with sorrow and with age, With many a tear and many a sigh between, "And where," he cried, "shall now my babes have bread, Or how shall age support its feeble fire? No lord will take me now, my vigour fled, Nor can my strength perform what they require; Each grudging master keeps the labourer bare, My noble mistress thought not so: And as my strength decay'd, her bounty grew." In decent dress and coarsely clean, The pious matron next was seen, Clasp'd in her hand a godly book was borne, By use and daily meditation worn; Oh! where shall weeping want repair, Too late in life for me to ask, And shame prevents the deed, And tardy, tardy are the times To succour, should I need. But all my wants, before I spoke, Were to my Mistress known; She still relieved, nor sought my praise, But every day her name I'll bless, SONG.-By a WOMAN. Each day, each hour, her name I'll bless, The hardy veteran after struck the sight, At last the impetuous sorrow fir'd his breast.“Wild is the whirlwind rolling O'er Afric's sandy plain, And wild the tempest howling But every danger fell before, The raging deep, the whirlwind's roar, Oh, let me fly a land that spurns the brave, And lay my body where my limbs were lost." Old Edward's sons unknown to yield, To do thy memory right; For thine and Britain's wrongs they feel, Again they snatch the gleamy steel, And wish the avenging fight. WOMAN Speaker. In innocence and youth complaining, Next appear'd a lovely maid, |