Hail power Omnipotent! me uninvok'd
Thou deign'st to visit; far, alas! unfit
To bear thy awful presence. O retire!
At distance let me view thee: lest, too nigh,
I sink beneath the terrors of thy face!

Moore's Hymn to Poverty.

He was buried, March 5, in the new ground belonging to Lambeth Church, near High Street; without a stone to distinguish his dust! He is the architect of his own monument.

THE LOVER AND THE FRIEND.

THOU,
for whom my lyre I string,
Of whom I speak, and think, and sing!
Thou constant object of my joys,
Whose sweetness every wish employs !
Thou dearest of thy sex attend,
And hear the Lover and the Friend.

Fear not the poet's flattering strain ;
No idle praise my verse shall stain:
The lowly numbers shall impart
The faithful dictates of my heart;
Nor humble modesty offend,
And part the Lover from the Friend.

Not distant is the cruel day

That tears me from my hopes away:
Then frown not, Fairest! if I try
To steal the moisture from your eye;
Or force your heart a sigh to send,
To mourn the Lover and the Friend.

No perfect joy my life e'er knew,
But what arose from love and you;
Nor can I fear another pain
Than your unkindness or disdain;
Then let your looks their pity lend,
To cheer the Lover and the Friend.

Whole years I strove against the flame,
And suffer'd ills that want a name,
Yet still the painful secret kept,
And to myself in silence wept;
Till, grown unable to contend,
I own'd the Lover and the Friend!

I saw you still.-Your generous heart
In all my sorrows bore a part:

Yet, while your eyes with pity glow'd,
No words of hope your tongue bestow'd;
But, mildly, bid me cease to blend
The name of Lover with the Friend.

Sick with desire, and mad with pain,
I seek for happiness in vain:
Thou lovely Maid! to thee I cry,
Heal me with kindness, or I die ;
From sad despair my soul defend,
And fix the Lover and the Friend!

Curs'd be all wealth, that can destroy
My utmost hope of earthly joy!
Thy gifts, O fortune! I resign,
Let her and poverty be mine!
And every year that life shall lend,
Shall bless the Lover and the Friend.

In vain, alas! in vain I strive
To keep a dying hope alive!
The last sad remedy remains;

"Tis absence that must heal my pains,
Thy image from my bosom rend,

And force the Lover from the Friend.

Vain thought! though seas between us roll,
Thy love is rooted in my soul;

The vital flood that warms my heart

With thy idea must depart;

And death's decisive stroke must end

At once, the Lover and the Friend!

THAT Jenny's my friend, my delight, and my pride, I always have boasted, and seek not to hide ;

I dwell on her praises wherever I go,

They say I'm in love, but I answer

no, no."

At evening, oft times, with what pleasure I see
A note from her hand, "I'll be with you at tea!"
My heart how it bounds, when I hear her below!
But say not 'tis love, for I answer "no, no."

She sings me a song, and I echo each strain,
"s Again," I cry, "Jenny! sweet Jenny, again!"
I kiss her soft lips, as if there I could grow,
And fear I'm in love, though I answer "no, no."

She tells me her faults, as she sits on my knee;
I chide her, and swear she's an angel to me:
My shoulder she taps, and still bids me think so ;
Who knows but she loves, though she tells me "no, no?"

Yet such is my temper, so dull am I grown,
I ask not her heart, but would conquer my own:
Her bosom's soft peace shall I seek to o'erthrow,
And wish to persuade, while I answer “no, no?”

From beauty, and wit, and good humour, ah! why Should prudence advise, and compel me to fly? Thy bounties, O fortune! make haste to bestow, And let me deserve her; or still I say, "no!"

EDWARD LOVIBOND.

1754.

Of the life of Lovibond, passed in the tranquillity of the country, and diversified principally by the amusements of literature, it is recorded only, that he was born in the neighbourhood of Hampton Court, in Middlesex, on his paternal estate; that he afterwards received his education at Kingston on Thames, under Mr. Wooddeson, a teacher whose worth is gratefully commemorated by his pupil; and that he died, August 25, 1775, at his house, near Hampton.

Equally unsatisfactory must be the detail of his attachments and friendships. By his " Cambrian Maid," however, the KITTY whose musical powers so often entranced his soul, his addresses do not appear to have been accepted. Nor was he more successful in subsequent attentions to LAURA, an Asiatic lady; who gave birth to several of his poetical compositions, and to whom the stanzas commencing, "What! bid me seek another Fair?" seem particularly to refer. This predilection, indeed, involved him in an amicable contest with Miss G. which was maintained for some time, in verse, with considerable gaiety and talents. Perhaps this lady's friendship approximated towards a tenderer sentiment. She certainly evinced herself deeply interested in the fate of Lovibond, while living; and, when he was no more, lamented him in strains highly expressive of her affection, and not unworthy of his memory.

TO KITTY.

AMID thy native mountains, Cambrian Fair!
Were some lone plant supported by thy care,
Sav'd from the blast, from winter's chilling powers,
In vernal suns, in vernal shades and showers,