Fowle's New Hampshire Gazette And General Advertiser

Parnassian Spring.
NIGHT.

No smiles of fortune ever bless'd the bad,
Nor can her frowns rob innocence of joy.

Now silence reigns, & solemn darkness spreads
O'er all the earth the gloomy veil of night,
Guilt trembles, and is seiz'd with sudden dread,
And waits with horror the return of light.

Light will return—but not to them return,
In whose dark souls no ray of virtue shines:
Not all the splendor of the sprightly morn,
Can chase the pang that racks the guilty mind.

Though fashion throw a veil before their crimes.
And guilt may pass, conceal'd in pleasure's name,
Yet conscience will be heard; remorse at times
Will hold a mirror that reveals their shame.

Though conscience from their breast awhile may stray.
She never totally gives up her reign;
But soon or late she will resume her sway.
And bring remorse and anguish in her train,

But darkness brings no horror to the mind,
Where virtue fair, and pure religion dwell:
Were chaos to return again they'd find
An inward light that would its gloom dispel.