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AROSE from her bosom had stray'd,
Til seek to replace it with art:
But no—'twill her slumbers invade,

1'11 wear it, fond youth, next my heart Alas! silly rose, hadst thou known

'Twas Daphne that gave thee thy place, Thou ne'er from thy station hadst flown— Her bosom's the mansion of peace.

THE passing bell was heard to toll!
John wail'd his loss with bitter cries;
The parson pray'd for Mary's soul,
The Sexton hid her from all eyes.
"And art thou gone!"
Cry'd wretched John;
"O dear! 'twill kill me-^I am dying!''
Cry'd neighbour Sly,
While standing by»
"Lord, how this world is giv'n to lying!"

The throng retir'd; John left alone,
He meditated 'inongst the tombs,
And spelt out on the mould'ring stones,

What friends were gone to their long homes. "You're gone before," Cry'd John, " no-more! "I shall come soon—I'm almost dying!" Cry'd neighbour Sly, Still standing by, "Lord, how this world is giv'n to lying!"

Here

i

Here lie the bones, Heaven's will be done!

Of Farmer Slug:—reader, would'st know'
Who to his meip'ry rais'd this stone—
T was his disconsolate widow!

Cry'd John, "Oh, oh;

« To her I'll go— "No doubt with grief the widow's dying!"

Cry'd neighbour Sly,

Still standing by, "Lord, how this world is giv'n to lying!''

Their mutual grief was short and sweet;

Scarcely the passing-bell had ceas'd,
When they were sped:—the funeral meat
Was warm'd up for the marriage feast I
- They vow'd and swore,
Now o'er and o'er,
They ne'er would part till both were dying!
Cry'd neighbour Sly,
Still standing by,
"Lord, how this world is giv'n to lying I"

Again to hear the passing bell,

John now a sort of bank'ring feels; Again his help-mate brags how well She can trip up a husband's heels:

Again to the tomb

Each longs to come,
Again with tears, and sobs, and sighing,

for neighbour Sly

Again to cry— "Lord, how this world is given to lying!"

L2 LOOSE

TT OOSE cv'ry sail to the breeze,
J« The course of my vessel improve';
I've done with the toils of the seas!
Yc sailors, I'm bound to my love.

Since Emma is true as she's fair,
My grief I fling all to the wind;

*Tis a pleasing return for my care,
My mistress is constant and kind.

My sails are all fill'd to my dear;

What tropic-birds swifter can move? Who, cruel, shall hold his career,

That returns to the nest of his love?

Hoist ev'ry sail to the breeze;

Come, shipmates, and join in the song: Let's drink while our ship cuts the seas,

To the gale that may drive her along.

I SIGH for a maid, and a sweet pretty maid,
And bonny Susanna's her name,
Then well do I know by my heart's panting so,

The poor little thing's in a flame;
For it throbs, throbs, throbs, and it beats, beats,
beats,
Goes pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat, pat;
Oh! sure it's the case, I'm in love with the face
All under the gipsey hat.

That That she's kind as she's fair, I freely declare,

So none can my candour reprove, But then what I rue, and, believe me, it's true,

Is—hang it—for being in love; For my heart throbs, throbs, throbs, and it beats, beats, beats,

Goes pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat, pat;
And, ah 1 I'm afraid, for the face of the maid

All under the gipsey hat.

That I've said all my life I'd ne'er take a wife,

And look'd on all plagues that (he worst, I own, for my heart was then free from smart,

But now, O, I think it will burst; For it throbs, throbs, throbs, and it beats, beats, beats,

Goes pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat, pat;
And, ah ! I must tell, for the face of the girl

All under the gipsey-hat.

INSPIRED by so grateful a duty,
In terms strongest art can devise;
Bards have written those raptures on beauty

That lovers have wasted on sighs:
I, to fill the sweet theme more completely,

Sing the beauty of goodness the while;
For every face is dress'd sweetly,
Where beams a benevolent smile.

While the heart some beneficent action
Contemplates, with joy the eyes speak,

On the lip quivers mute satisfaction,
And a glow of delight paints the cheek;

i. a Bliss

Bliss pervades every feature completely,
Adding beauty to beauty the while,

And the loveliest face looks more sweetly,
Where beams a benevolent smile.

"TT IFE'slike a ship in constant motion, -1" Sometimes high and sometimes low; Where cv'ry one must brave the ocean,

Whatsoever winds may blow: If, unassail'd r?y squall or show'r,

Wafted by the gentle gales; Let's not lose the f'av'ring hour,

While success attends-our sails.

Or, if the wayward winds should bluster,

Let us not give way to fear; But let us all our patience muster,

And learn, by Reason, how to steer;
Let judgment keep you ever steady,

'Tis a ballast never fails;
Should dangers rise, be ever ready,

To manage well the swelling sails.

Trust not too much your own opinion,

While your vessel's under way; Let good example bear dominion,

That's a compass will not stray:
When thund'riug tempests make you shudder,

Or Boreas on the surface rails,
Let good Discretion guide the rudder^

And Providence attend the sails,

Then,

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