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FROM

THE ORATORIO

OF

THE CAPTIVITY.

SONG.

THE wretch condemn'd with life to part,

Still, ftill on hope relies;

And ev'ry pang that rends the heart,

Bids expectation rise.

Hope, like the glimm'ring taper's light,

Adorns and cheers the way;

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SONG.

O MEMORY! thou fond deceiver,
Still importunate and vain,
To former joys recurring ever,
And turning all the past to pain;

Thou, like the world, the oppreft oppreffing,
Thy fmiles increase the wretch's woe ;
And he who wants each other bleffing,
In thee must ever find a foe.

THE

THE

CLOWN'S REPLY.

JOHN TROTT was defir'd by two witty peers, To tell him the reason why affes had ears;

"An't please you," quoth John, "I'm not given to "letters,

"Nor dare I pretend to know more than my betters, Howe'er from this time I fhall ne'er fee your graces, "As I hope to be fav'd! without thinking on affes."

* Edinburgh, 1753.

H 2

EPITAPH

EPITAPH

ON

EDWARD PURDON.*

HERE lies poor NED PURDON, from mifery freed,
Who long was a bookfeller's hack:

He led fuch a damnable life in this world,-
I don't think he'll wish to come back.

*This gentleman was educated at Trinity College, Dublin; but having wafted his patrimony, he enlifted as a foot foldier. Growing tired of that employment, he obtained his discharge, and became a scribbler in the newspapers. He tranflated Voltaire's HENRIADE.

AN

ELEGY

ON THE

GLORY OF HER SEX,

MRS. MARY BLAIZE.

GOOD people all, with one accord,

Lament for madam Blaize,

Who never wanted a good word-
From those who spoke her praise.

The needy feldom pafs'd her door,
And always found her kind;
She freely lent to all the poor,—
Who left a pledge behind.

She ftrove the neighbourhood to please,

With manners wond'rous winning; And never follow'd wicked ways,—

Unless when she was finning.

At

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