Awake my soul! in cheerful mood, Thy matin thanks to pay! The God, who gives thee rest, and food,
Tenderest Herald of the sky, Nature's safeguard from perdition, Friend of sweet, tho' tearful eye,
Lord, who in mercy's tender tone Invitest every child of dust, To seek protection from thy throne,
Dear nymph of a feeling, and delicate mind! Whose eye the rash tears of timidity blind, When fancy alarm'd takes a heart-chilling hue,
The Fear Of Death. Thou! whose superior, and aspiring mind Can leave the weakness of thy sex behind;
Of all the speechless friends of man The faithful dog I deem Deserving from the human clan
Nature, what heart may here by thee, Most truly brave be styled? The tender mother's it must be,
Say, nature, on whose wond'rous reign Delighted fancy dwells, Of all thy numerous brutal train
Of creatures that to man attend, His pastime, or his wealth; The Horse we cherish as a friend,
"Can mothers of our English isle, The pride of all the earth, From any tribe of tender brutes,
Ingratitude! of earth the shame! Thou monster, at whose hated name, The nerves of kindness ake;
Not only men of stormy minds, The storms of trouble know, All creatures of this earth must find
Of dogs who sav'd a living friend, Most nobly, ye have read: Now to a nobler still attend,
Maternal love! thou wond'rous power, By no base fears controul'd, Tis truly thine, in danger's hour,
Now blest be Providence divine, Surpassing human skill! That often takes from things malign,
Who can forget fair freedom's bird, That has her genuine praises heard, Confirm'd by frequent proof?