LINES TO FORTUNE,

Oh, Fortune! I have seen thee shed

A plenteous show'r of treasure down

On many a weak and worthless head,

On those who but deserv'd thy frown.

And I have heard, in lonely shade,

Her sorrows hapless Merit pour;

And thou hast pass'd the drooping maid,

To give some pamper'd fav'rite more.

But tho’ so cold, or strangely wild,

It seems that worth can sometimes move;

Thou hast on gentle Emma smil'd,

And thou hast smil'd where all approve:—

For Nature form'd her gen'rous heart

With ev'ry virtue, pure, refin'd;

And wit and taste, and grace and art,

United to illume her mind.

So dew-drops fall on some rare flow'r,

That merits all their fost'ring care,

As tho’ they knew that, by their pow'r,

Grateful‘ twould wider scent the air.