The New-York Weekly Magazine, or Miscellaneous Repository Part 186
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On thy supplies both man and beast attend; On th' opening year thou smil'st, thy goodness crowns its end.
What various flow'ry beauties spread the field, Which through the healthy air their fragrance yield!
The crowfoot, daisie, cowslip's golden hue, The dandelion, violet's lovely blue.
How many more their modest graces hide In the hedge-bottom, or the thicket's side!
The primrose, harebell, with the starwort fair, And low ground-ivy's bloom perfume the air.
These and each painted form that decks the land, Blend their unrival'd tinctures, and confess thy hand.
The feather'd tribes to thee their voices raise, Rejoice in being, and resound thy praise.
With lab'ring wing, the lark, scarce seen on high, Incessant pours his mattins through the sky.
Perch'd on yon lofty poplar's topmost spray, The thrill thrush welcomes the bright source of day.
Deep in the thicket hid, the blackbird shy, His mellow whistle tunes, to aid the common joy.
The wood-lark, glory of the warbling throng, Alternate sinks, and swells his varied song.
The gaudy goldfinch, linnet, white-throat fair, With musical confusion load the air.
In deeper note the ring-dove, 'midst the groves, To his coy mate soft-cooing breathes his loves.
The list'ning swains, through ev'ry brow and dale, Delighted hear, and shout the cuckoo's simple tale.
The flocks and herds, whom thou supply'st with food, Enjoying thank thee, and p.r.o.nounce it good.
The fleecy people crop the early dew; The tender lambs their harmless sports pursue.
The heifer's low fills all the valleys round: The mimic wood-nymph propagates the sound.
The sweet-breath'd cows the herbage greedy graze, The frolic calf his clumsy gambols plays.
The saunt'ring cow-boy slowly creeps along, Now his clear whistle tunes, and now his rustic song.
These are thy works, O G.o.d, and these thy care; All these, in season due, thy various blessings share.
Blest Power! that me into existence drew, And spread this fair creation to my view!
Blest Power! that gave me eyes, and ears, and mind, And taught me, in each object, G.o.d to find!
Blest be that care that guards my ev'ry day; That feeds, and clothes, and guides me through my way.
Accept my thanks for this enliv'ning hour; This cheerful taste of bliss, that thrills through ev'ry power.
Grateful would I thy present blessings share, And trust my whole of being to thy future care.
THE PROSt.i.tUTE.
As trav'llers thro' life's varied paths we go, What sights we pa.s.s of wretchedness, and woe!
Ah, deep, and many is the good man's sigh O'er thy hard sufferings, poor Humanity!
What form is that, which wanders up and down, Some poor unfriended orphan of the town!
Heavy indeed hath ruthless sorrow prest Her cold hand at her miserable breast!
Worn with disease, with not a friend to save, Or shed a tear of pity o'er her grave; The sickly l.u.s.tre leaves her faded eye; She sinks in need, in pain, and infamy!
Ah, happier innocent! on whose chaste cheek The spotless rose of virtue blushes meek; Come, shed, in mercy shed, a silent tear, O'er a lost sister's solitary bier!
She might have bloom'd, like thee, in vernal life!
She might have bloom'd, the fond endearing wife-- The tender daughter! but want's chilling dew Blasted each scene hope's faithless pencil drew!
No anxious friend sat weeping o'er her bed, Or ask'd the blessing on her little head!
She never knew, tho' beauty mark'd her face, What beggars woman-kind of every grace!
Ne'er clasp'd a mother's knees with soft delight, Or lisp'd to Heaven her pray'r of peace at night!
Alas! her helpless childhood was consign'd, To the unfeeling mercy of mankind!
EPITAPH.
From the Greek.
A blooming youth lies buried here, Euphemius, to his country dear: Nature adorn'd his mind and face, With every muse and every grace; Prepar'd the marriage state to prove, But Death had quicker wings than Love.
_NEW-YORK: +Printed by JOHN TIEBOUT, No. 358, Pearl-Street, for THOMAS BURLING, Jun. & Co.+ +Subscriptions+ for this +Magazine+ (at 6s. per quarter) are taken in at the Printing-Office, and at the Book-Store of Mr. J. FELLOWS, Pine-Street._
THE NEW-YORK WEEKLY MAGAZINE; or, Miscellaneous Repository.
+Vol. II.+] _Wednesday, June 14, 1797._ [+No. 102.+
METHOD IN THE ARRANGEMENT OF IDEAS.
In delivering our sentiments on particular subjects, there is nothing which is attended with better effect, and makes us appear to more advantage than offering our opinions with clearness and precision; and this can only be done by arranging them in proper order, so that they may appear regularly to arise one from the other: this is stiled method, and prevents confusion; hinders us from indulging in the luxuriance of fancy, running into desultory digressions, and makes us appear superior to our subject.
Where great sprightliness is the natural bent of the temper, girls should endeavour to habituate themselves to a custom of observing, thinking, and reasoning. It is not necessary that they should devote themselves to abstruse speculation, or the study of logic; but she who is accustomed to give a due arrangement to her thoughts, to reason justly and pertinently on common affairs, and judiciously to deduce effects from their causes, will be a better logician than some of those who claim the name, because they have studied the art. That species of knowledge, which appears to be the result of reflection rather than of science, fits peculiarly well on women.
BEHAVIOUR.
One of the chief beauties in a female character is that modest reserve, that retiring delicacy which avoids the public eye, and is disconcerted even at the gaze of admiration. For when a girl ceases to blush, she has lost the most powerful charm of beauty. That extreme sensibility, which it indicates, is peculiarly engaging.
Silence in company, particularly a large one, is never mistaken by the judicious and discerning for dullness, but bespeaks a modesty essential in the female s.e.x. Dignity of behaviour is necessary at public places, but care must be taken not to mistake that for that confident ease, that unabashed countenance which seems to set the company at defiance.
Women should be cautious even in displaying their good sense. It is often thought a.s.suming a superiority over the rest of the company; but their learning should be kept a profound secret, especially from men, who generally look with a jealous and malign eye on a woman of great parts, and a cultivated understanding.
The great art of pleasing in conversation consists in making the company pleased with themselves. Detraction should be avoided, especially amongst women where their own s.e.x is concerned; it would be more n.o.ble for them to shew a compa.s.sionate sympathy to the unfortunate, especially to those who are rendered so by the villainy of men. It is a laudable pride, as well as secret pleasure, which ought to be indulged, in being the friend and refuge of the unhappy, but without the vanity of shewing it.
Every species of indelicacy in conversation should be considered as shameful and highly disgusting. A sacred regard should ever be had to truth, for lying is a mean and despicable vice; though a lively embellishment of a humorous story, which is only intended to promote innocent mirth, cannot be understood to fall under that head.
Gentleness of spirit and manners is extremely engaging; but not that indiscriminate attention, that unmeaning simper, which smiles on all alike. For this arises either from affectation of softness, or from perfect insipidity.
A fine woman, like other fine things in nature, has her proper point of view, from which she may be seen to most advantage. To fix this point requires great judgment, and an intimate knowledge of the human heart.
By the present mode of female manners, the ladies seem to expect that they shall regain their ascendency over men, by the fullest display of their personal charms, by being always in their eyes at public places, by conversing with them with the same unreserved freedom as they do with one another; in short, by resembling men as near as they can. The folly of this expectation and conduct will soon be shown. For the power of a fine woman over the hearts of men, of men of the finest parts, is even beyond what she conceives. They are sensible of the pleasing illusion, but they cannot, nor do they wish, to dissolve it. But if she is determined to dispel the charm, it certainly is in her power, she may soon reduce _the angel to a very ordinary girl_.
The New-York Weekly Magazine, or Miscellaneous Repository Part 186
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