t let moral beauties shine,
Supernal grace and purity divine:
Sublime her reason, and her native wit
Unstrain'd with pedantry and low conceit;
Her fancy lively, and her judgment free,
From female prejudice and bigotry:
Averse to idle pomp, and outward show,
The flatt'ring coxcomb, and fantastic beau.

The fop's impertinence she should despise,
Tho' _sorely wounded by her radient eyes_;
But pay due rev'rence to the exalted mind
By learning polish'd, and by wit refin'd,
Who all her virtues, without guile, commends,
And all her faults as freely reprehends.
Soft _Hymen's_ rites her passion should approve,
And in her bosom glow the flames of love:
To me her foul, by sacred friendship turn,
And I, for her, with equal friendship burn;
In ev'ry stage of life afford relief,
Partake my joys, and sympathize my grief;
Unshaken, walk in virtue's peaceful road,
Nor bribe her reason to pursue the mode;
Mild as the saint whose errors are forgiv'n,
Calm as a vestal, and compos'd as heav'n.
This be the partner, this the lovely wife
That should embellish and prolong my life;
A nymph! who might a second fall inspire,
And fill a glowing _Cherub_ with desire!
With her I'd spend the pleasurable day,
While fleeting minutes gaily danc'd away:
With her I'd walk, delighted, o'er the green,
Thro' ev'ry blooming mead, and rural scene,
Or sit in open fields damask'd with flow'rs,
Or where cool shades imbrown the noon-tide bow'rs,
Imparadis'd within my eager arms,
I'd reign the happy monarch of her charms:
Oft on her panting bosom would I lay,
And, in dissolving raptures, melt away;
Then lull'd, by nightingales, to balmy rest,
My blooming fair should slumber at my breast.

And when decrepid age (frail mortals doom!)
Should bend my wither'd body to the tomb,
No warbling _Syrens_ should retard my flight,
To heav'nly mansions of unclouded light;
Tho' death, with his imperial horrors crown'd,
Terrific grinn'd, and formidably frown'd,
Offences pardon'd, and remitted sin,
Should form a calm serenity within:
Blessing my _natal_ and my _mortal_ hour,
(My soul committed to th' eternal pow'r)
Inexorable death should smile, for I,
Who _knew_ to LIVE, would never _fear_ to DIE.

HYMNS

HYMN I.

Begin the high celestial strain,