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But ah! thofe pleasures, Loves and Joys,

Which I too keenly taste,

The Solitary can despise,

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Can want, and yet be bleft!
He needs not, he heeds not,

Or human love or hate;

Whilft I here must cry
At perfidy ingrate!^

V.

Oh! enviable, early days,

here

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When dancing thoughtless pleasure's mazt,
To Care, to Guilt unknown !
How ill exchang'd for riper times,
To feel the follies, or the crimes,
Of others, or my own!

Ye tiny elves that guiltless sport,

Like linnets in the bush,

Ye little know the ills

ye court;

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MAN WAS MADE TO MOURN.

A DIR GE.

WHE

I

HEN chill November's furly blad

Made fields and forefts bare,

One ev'ning, as I wander'd forth

Along the banks of Ayr,

Efpy'd a man, whofe aged flep

Seem'd weary, worn with care;
His face was furrow'd o'er with years,
And hoary was his hair.

II.

Young Atranger, whither wand'reft thou,

Began the rev'rend Sage:

Does thirst of wealth thy ftep contrain,

Or youthful Pleafure's rage?

Or haply, preft with cares and woes,

Too foon thou haft began

To wander forth with me, to mourn
The miferies of Man.

III.

The Sun that overhangs yon moors;
Out-fpreading far and wide,

Where hundreds labour to fupporti

A haughty lordling's pride;
I've feen yon weary winter-fun,
Twice forty times return;

And ev'ry time has added proofs,.,.
That Man was made to mourn..

IV..

O Man! while in thy early years,
How prodigal of time;
Mifpending all thy precious hours,

Thy glorious, youthful prime! :
Alternate follies take the fway; ;
Licentious Paffions burn;

Which tenfold force give Nature's law,
That Man was made to mourn.

V...

Look not alone on youthful prime,,
Or Manhood's active might;
Man then is useful to his kind,.

Supported is his right:

But fee him on the edge of life,

With Cares and Sorrows worn, .

Then Age and Want, Oh! ill match'd pair!

Show Man was made to moura. :

VI.

A few feem favourites of Fáte,

In Pleafure's lap carest';

Yet, think not all the Rich and Great

Are likewife truly bleft,

But, Oh! what crouds in ev'ry land,. All wretched and forlorn,

Thro' weary life this leffon learn,

That man was Made to mourn,

VII.

Many and sharp the num'rous Ills
Inwoven with our frame !

More pointed ftill we make ourselves,
Regret, Remorfe, and Shame!
And Man, whofe heav'n-erected face

The fmiles of love adorn,

Man's inhumanity to Man

Makes countless thousands mourn!

VIII

See yonder poor, o'erlabour'd wight,
So abject, mean, and vile,

Who begs a brother of the earth.
To give him leave to toil;
And fee his lordly fellow-worm:
The poor petition spurn,
Unmindful, tho' a weeping wife.
And helpless offspring mourn.

IX.

If I'm defign'd yon lordling's flave,

By Nature's law defign'd,

Why was an independant wish
E'er planted in my mind?

If not, why am I subject to
His cruelty, or scorn? ·

Or why has Man the will and pow'r

To make his fellow mourn?

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Yet, let not this too much, my Son,,

Disturb thy youthful breast: This partial view of human-kind

Is furely not the lat!

The poor, oppreffed, honeft man,
Had never, fure, been born,、
Had there not been fome recompenfe

To comfort thofe that mourn!

XI..

O Death the poor man's dearest friend,
The kindest and the beft!
Welcome the hour my aged limbs

Are laid with thee at reft!

The Great, the Wealthy fear thy blow,.
From pomp and pleasure torn ;

But, Oh! a bleft relief to thofe
That weary-laden mourn!

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