An Eulogium on Charity: Spoke at Alnwick

To bid the rancour of ill-fortune cease,
To tell anxiety—I give thee peace,
To quell adversity—or turn her darts,
To stamp fraternity on gen'rous hearts:
For these high motives—these illustrious ends,
Celestial Charity to-night descends.

Soft are the graces that adorn the maid!
Softer than dew-drops to the sunburnt glade!
She's gracious as an unpoluted stream,
And tender as a fond young lover's dream!
Pity and Peace precede her as she flies,
And Mercy beams benignant in her eyes!

From her high residence, from realms above,
She comes, sweet harbinger of heavenly love!

Her sister's charms are more than doubly bright,
From the kind cause that call'd her here to-night.
An artless grace the conscious heart bestows
And on the generous cheek a tincture glows,
More lovely than the bloom that paints the vernal rose.

The lofty pyramid shall cease to live!
Fleeting the praise such monuments can give!
But Charity, by tyrant time rever'd,
Sweet Charity amidst his ruins spar'd,
Secures her votaries unblasted fame,
And in celestial annals saves their name.