At length for arts like these confined
In prison with a lawless crew,
I soon perceived a kindred mind,

And there my long-lost daughter knew;

His father's child, whom Aaron gave
To wander with a distant clan,
The miseries of the world to brave,
And be the slave of vice and man.

She knew my name-we met in pain,
Our parting pangs can I express?
She sail'd a convict o'er the main,
And left an heir to her distress.

This is that heir to shame and pain,
For whom I only could descry
A world of trouble and disdain :

Yet, could I bear to see her die,
Or stretch her feeble hands in vain,
And, weeping, beg of me supply?

No! though the fate thy mother knew
Was shameful! shameful though thy race
Have wander'd all a lawless crew,

Outcasts despised in every place;

Yet as the dark and muddy tide,
When far from its polluted source,
Becomes more pure and purified,

Flows in a clear and happy course;

In thee, dear infant! so may end

Our shame, in thee our sorrows cease ! And thy pure course will then extend,

In floods of joy, o'er vales of peace.

Oh! by the God who loves to spare,
Deny me not the boon I crave;
Let this loved child your mercy share,
And let me find a peaceful grave;

Make her yet spotless soul your care,
And let my sins their portion have;
Her for a better fate prepare,

And punish whom 't were sin to save!

MAGISTRATE.

Recall the word, renounce the thought, Command thy heart and bend thy knee. There is to all a pardon brought,

A ransom rich, assured and free; 'Tis full when found, 't is found if sought, Oh! seek it, till 'tis seal'd to thee.

VAGRANT.

But how my pardon shall I know?

MAGISTRATE.

By feeling dread that 't is not sent,

By tears for sin that freely flow,

By grief, that all thy tears are spent,

U 2

By thoughts on that great debt we owe,
With all the mercy God has lent,
By suffering what thou canst not show,
Yet showing how thine heart is rent,
Till thou canst feel thy bosom glow,

And

say, "MY SAVIOUR, I REPENT!" (1).

(1) ["The Hall of Justice, or the story of the Gypsy Convict, is very nervous, very shocking,- and very powerfully represented. It is written with very unusual power of language, and shows Mr. Crabbe to have great mastery over the tragic passions of pity and horror.”— - JEFFREY.]

WOMAN!

MR. LEDYARD, AS QUOTED BY MUNGO PARKE IN HIS TRAVELS INTO AFRICA

"To a Woman I never addressed myself in the language of decency and "friendship, without receiving a decent and friendly answer. If I was "hungry or thirsty, wet or sick, they did not hesitate, like Men, to "perform a generous action: in so free and kind a manner did they " contribute to my relief, that if I was dry, I drank the sweetest draught; "and if hungry, I ate the coarsest morsel with a double relish."

PLACE the white man on Afric's coast,
Whose swarthy sons in blood delight,
Who of their scorn to Europe boast,

And paint their very demons white:
There, while the sterner sex disdains

To soothe the woes they cannot feel,
Woman will strive to heal his pains,
And weep for those she cannot heal:
Hers is warm pity's sacred glow;

From all her stores, she bears a part,
And bids the spring of hope re-flow,
That languish'd in the fainting heart.

"What though so pale his haggard face, "So sunk and sad his looks,"—she cries; "And far unlike our nobler race,

"With crisped locks and rolling eyes; "Yet misery marks him of our kind; "We see him lost, alone, afraid; "And pangs of body, griefs in mind, "Pronounce him man, and ask our aid.

"Perhaps in some far-distant shore,

"There are who in these forms delight; "Whose milky features please them more, "Than ours of jet thus burnish'd bright; "Of such may be his weeping wife,

"Such children for their sire may call, "And if we spare his ebbing life, "Our kindness may preserve them all."

Thus her compassion Woman shows, Beneath the line her acts are these; Nor the wide waste of Lapland-snows Can her warm flow of pity freeze: :"From some sad land the stranger comes, "Where joys like ours are never found; "Let's soothe him in our happy homes, "Where freedom sits, with plenty crown'd.

"'Tis good the fainting soul to cheer,
"To see the famish'd stranger fed;
"To milk for him the mother-deer,
"To smooth for him the furry bed.