Part 98 (1/2)

_For the +New-York Weekly Magazine+._

LINES ON THE LATE SCOTCH POET.

”Full many a gem of purest ray serene, ”The dark, unfathom'd caves of ocean bear; ”Full many a flow'r is born to blush unseen, ”And waste its sweetness on the desart air.”

GRAY.

The brightest rays of genius fail To guard its sons from earthly grief, Wisdom alas! can naught avail, Or to the suff'rer yield relief.

The sons of Genius hapless race, To often are the sons of woe; The dreary path of want they trace, Or to the grave unheeded go.

Such, BURNS, was thy unhappy fate, Such the reward of worth like thine; The muse deplores thine humble state, Which thy bright talents could confine.

Offspring of nature--self-taught Bard, Thy memory respect commands: And though on earth thy lot was hard, Thy shade th' applauding lay demands.

To thee, the muses lov'd to bring, The sweets of Poetry refin'd; 'Twas thine in humble strains to sing, The mild effusions of thy mind.

Seduc'd by nature's pleasing sway, Her influence fas.h.i.+on'd ev'ry line-- Her beauties shone throughout thy lay, Her beauties made the lay divine.

But many a gem, both rich and bright, Th'unfathom'd caves of ocean bear: And dark seclusion hides from sight Full many a flow'ret, sweet and fair.

ALEXIS.

New-York, Dec. 6, 1796.

_To a Gentleman who attempted drawing the Picture of a beautiful Young Lady:_

Vain the attempt of Phbus' darling boy, To guide the flaming chariot of the sky; Vain the attempt of Daedalus' favourite care, With artificial wing to cleave the air; But vainer still thy fond attempt to trace, The matchless beauties of that heavenly face: Where every grace, and every charm combin'd, Confess an angel's form, an angel's mind; How couldst thou then a likeness hope to strike?

The task requires a Reubens or Vand.y.k.e!

MORAL VERSES, ADDRESSED TO YOUTH.

Whilst early youth spreads smiling skies, While yet the golden prospects rise, Which glowing fancy forms: And yet your bark is seen to glide Down pleasure's smoothly pa.s.sing tide, Nor fears impending storms.

Attend a while the moral lay, Be wise, if possible, TO-DAY; No FUTURE period trust.

TO-MORROW is beyond your pow'r; Perhaps the fondly-promis'd hour May lay you in the dust.

If now with health your pulse beats high, And joy sits sparkling in your eye, Yet be the flame represt; Your sails, while fav'ring zephyrs kiss, With moderation taste the bliss, That warms your swelling breast.

Nor deem fair virtue's rules severe, Ill habits make them so appear, Learn timely sloth to shun.

Be then the s.h.i.+ning track pursu'd, Nor follow the rash mult.i.tude, That rush to be undone.