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This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 430 pages of information about The Young Gentleman and Lady's Monitor, and English Teacher's Assistant.
    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,
      My ravish’d soul, and sing,
    A solemn hymn of grateful praise
      To heav’n’s Almighty King. 
    Ye curling fountains, as ye roll
      Your silver waves along,
    Whisper to all your verdant shores
      The subject of my song. 
    Retain it long y’ echoing rocks,
      The sacred sound retain,
    And from your hollow winding caves
      Return it oft again. 
    Bear it, ye winds, on all your wings,
      To distant climes away,
    And round the wide extended world
      My lofty theme convey. 
    Take the glad burden of his name,
      Ye clouds, as you arise,
    Whether to deck the golden morn,
      Or shade the ev’ning skies. 
    Let harmless thunders roll along
      The smooth etherial plain,
    And answer from the crystal vault
      To ev’ry flying strain. 
    Long let it warble round the spheres,
      And echo through the sky,
    Till Angels, with immortal skill,
      Improve the harmony. 
    While I, with sacred rapture fir’d,
      The blest Creator sing,
    And warble consecrated lays
      To heav’n’s Almighty King.

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