Village books

Unhappy fair! whatever fancy drew,
(Vain promis'd blessings,) vanish from her view;
No train of cheerful days, endearing nights,
No sweet domestic joys, and chaste delights;
Pleasures that blossom e'en from doubts and fears;
And bliss and rapture rising out of cares:
No little Guilford, with paternal grace,
Lull'd on her knee, or smiling in her face;
Who, when her dearest father shall return,
From pouring tears on her untimely urn,
Might comfort to his silver hairs impart,
And fill her place in his indulgent heart:
As where fruits fall, quick rising blossoms smile,
And the bless'd Indian of his care beguile,
In vain these various reasons jointly press,
To blacken death, and heighten her distress;
She, thro' th' encircling terrors darts her sight
To the bless'd regions of eternal light,
And fills her soul with peace: to weeping friends
Her father, and her lord, she recommends;
Unmov'd herself: her foes her air survey,
And rage to see their malice thrown away.


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