Gazette Of The United States, & Philadelphia Daily Advertiser

FROM THE COLUMBIAN CENTINEL.

"Go thou and do likewise."

EJACULATION,
To the Memory of Mrs. G. APTHORP.

FRIEND of my life! thro' growing youth endear'd,
In death beloved, in waning age revered-
If in a guardian Angel's form divine,
O'er my dark days thy melting mercies shine;
The MUSE shall charm thee, and each scene renew,
With tints reflected, and with touches true.

While o'er this breast the shades of MEMORY flow,
While the heart sickens with unfeigned woe,
While sharp unkindness bends her piercing frown,
To cut the deeply-wounded spirit down,
Each opening day, on morn's returning wing,
Shall to my soul, thy placid virtues bring:
That voice by every law of kindness strung,
That heart with warm affection ever young,
Those cares unwearied e'en in life's decline,
That twined their bliss round every joy of mine,
Whence rose that smile, and whence that raptured gaze,
Whose look was bounty, whose expression praise.

When others, heedless of the bursting blow,
Saw the heart bleed, and bade the sorrow flow,
I felt thy love the wrongs of fate atone,
Restore my hopes but make my grief its own,
Nor yet to One were all thy cares confin'd,
But poured their stream on every suffering mind;
Who reared yon Orphans with a parent's care?
Or taught the hard oppressor's hand to spare?
When many a tear had worn his cheek in vain,
Who broke the pining captive's ponderous chain?
Warmed at the view, a thousand voices join
"Thine was the deed the godlike blessing thine."

While on the flight of time thy steps attend,
Oft may thy visionary shade descend;
Come, like thyself, with every native grace,
That decked the form, and smoothed the pleasing face
O'er my sick couch, with healing wing appear,
Calm the quick sigh, and hush the impatient fear;
Yet round thy child with fond protection move,
And wake the converse of maternal love-
Give her, like thee, with virtue's heavenly ray,
To chase the demons of her future day,
Teach her with patient silence to endure
Those ills which grief, nor hope, nor time, can cure,
She far divided from thy parting breath,
Nor closed the eye, nor smoothed the couch of death,
Yet many a prayer, with kind compassion fraught,
Bore thy best blessing on the wing of thought,
From foreign hearts the sacred relic flowed,
A foreign lip the precious pledge bestowed

But short the hour, and soon the moment dies,
Ere to thy throne the filial spirit flies,
Forget each pang, each sorrow, and each strife,
That pierced with many a thorn the nerve of life;
Taught to forgive, to pity, and to spare,
It pours on every wound the balm of prayer;
Plucks from the cruel heart its keen distress,
And feels the first great blessing is TO BLESS.

* Persons have been relieved from prison, (by this
benevolent character) at the expense of many hundred
pounds-and in one of the former wars of France, she
obtained the dismission of a relation from the Bastile,
at the expense of two hundred and fifty pounds ster-
ling.