CHAP. XXI.

Solitude.

1. Hail, blest retreat ! my soul's supreme desire,

Where peaceful study might employ my days, Where lovely Nature's wond'rous works conspire

To fill the heart with gratitude and praise. 2. Where ruder passions cease to vex the heart,

Where men the paths of vice and folly shun; With health, content, and books divinely blest,

I'd taste those joys to angels only known. 3. The immortal works of Newton,* Locke,t and

Boyle, I
Pope, Milton,|| Shakespeare, Dryden,**

Watts,tt and Youngit
Should be my recreation and my toil,

My nightly study and my daily song.
4. Thus would I God's celestial gifts improve,

Till call'd to share my native realms above.

* The greatest philosopher that ever lived; he was born at Wool. strope, in Lincolnshire, on Christmas-day, 1642, and died March 20, 1726, aged 84.

† A celebrated philosopher, who was born at Wrington, in Somersetshire.

# An eminent writer on philosophy; he was born at Lismore, in Ireland.

$ A celebrated English Poet.

1 A most sublime and illustrious writer, justly esteemed for his excellent poetical works.

He is allowed to be the Father, &c. of the English Drama, and was born at Stratford-upon-Avon.

** A famous poet, was born at Aldwincle, in Northamptonshire.

# A pious and ingenious divine among the dissenters, who wrote many religious poems.

# An illustrious poet, celebrated for his Night Thoughts.

CHAP. XXII.

Summer's Heat.

2. Æ'-ther, s. pure or refined air. 3. Gleam, v. to shine suddenly.

Plumes, v. (third person singular,) adorns, adjusts.

Crest, s. plume of feathers, a comb. 4. Po'-tent, a. powerful, strong.

Per-vid, a, hot, (zealous).

1, How scorching is the summer ray !

No cheering dews are found;
The murm'ring streams forget to play,

And hide within the ground;
The flowery dales no more delight
To charm the ear or please the sight,
The birds themselves forsake the spray,
And silence waits the noon of day.

2. Along the wide extended plain

The breezes cease to blow;
The flowers no more their sweets retain,

But drooping blossoms show.
Like them, I faint; O guide my feet
To some secure and shady seat,
Where now the cooling gales retire,
And check the æther's parching fire.

3. But, lo! what darksome clouds arise,

To dim the dazzling beam;
What thunder rolls along the skies;

What dreadful lightnings gleam!

Cold trembling fear awakes the breast,
And horror plumes her sable crest;
Grant us thine arm, Almighty Pow'r,
To shield us in the awful hour.

4: Give us, henceforth, the power to tread

With diligence and love,
The narrow road to bliss, with speed,

Nor let our feet remove.
And should temptation's potent rays
Beset our path with fervid blaze:
To urge us from the painful way,
Do thou our feeble footsteps stay.

5. Lead us along those pleasing ways

Experience bids approve,
Where sweet refreshing water plays,

Descending from above.
And, when the last dread thunders roll,
And cleave this earth from pole to pole,
Receive us to those blissful plains,
Where an unscorching summer reigns.

CHAP. XXIII.
The Paper Kite.

1. E"-le-va'-ti-on, s. height, raised up. 2. Soar, o. to fly to a great height.

Tide, s. water (a flux and reflux of the sea). 7. Im-pa'-ti-ent, a. not able to endure or bear delay, pain, or any

other inconvenience, without complaint. 8. In.cli'ne, v. to lean, to tend to any part. Figuratively, to be favourably disposed to.

L

1. Once on a time, a paper kite,

Was mounted to a wond'rous height,
Where, giddy with its elevation,

It thus express’d self-admiration : 2. “ See how yon crowds of gazing people

Admire my flight above the steeple;
How would they wonder if they knew
All that a kite like me can do!

3. “ Were I but free, I'd take a flight,

And pierce the clouds beyond their sight ;
But, oh! like a poor pris'ner bound,

My string confines me near the ground. 4. “I'd brave the eagle's tow’ring wing,

Might I but fly without a string.”
(It tugg’d and pull’d, while thus it spoke,
To break the string—at last it broke.)

5. Depriv'd at once of all its stay,

In vain it tried to soar away ;
Unable its own weight to bear,
It flutter'd downward through the air !
Unable its own course to guide,

The winds soon plung'd it in the tide. . 6. Ah! foolish kite, thou hast no wing;

How couldst thou fly without a string!

7. My heart replied, O Lord, I see

How much this kite resembles me;
Forgetful that by thee I stand,
Impatient of thy ruling hand;

8. How oft my foolish heart inclines

T'oppose that lot which heav'n assigns !
How oft indulg'd a vain desire,
For something more, or something higher;
And, but for grace and love divine,
A fall more dreadful had been mine.

NEWTON. .

CHAP. XXIV.

The Lamb and the Pig ; or, Nature and Education.

1. Mo”-ra-list, s, one who teaches the duties of life. 2. Doc'-trine, s. instruction, any thing taught.

Em'-blems, s. pl. representations, illusive pictures. 3. Thi’-my, a. (pro. ti-my,) belonging to thyme, a well known

herb. 6. Vir'-gin, a. pure, as being free from all stains. 9. Tes'-ti-fy, v, to witness; to prove.

1. CONSULT the moralist, you'll find

That education forms the mind ;
But education ne'er supplied
What ruling nature has denied.

2. If you'll the following page pursue,

My tale shall prove this doctrine true.
Since to the muse all brutes belong,
The lamb shall usher in my song:
Whose snowy fleece adorn’d her skin,
Emblem of native white within.

3. Meekness and love possess'd her soul, And innocence had crown'd the whole.