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And the heart sinks, oppress'd by the demon of woe,
Or sharpen the arrows of sorrow?-Oh! no !
Each sigh of her grief I would willingly share,
Bid the tears of her anguish for e'er cease to flow, But could I ever add to the load of despair,
Or oppress the keen feelings of sorrow ?-Oh! no !
Oh! no! I would pray the blest seraph of peace
To soothe all the cares of the mourner to rest, Bid the griefs of her bosom in happiness cease,
And joy fix its haunt in so hallow'd a nest! Liverpool.
W. M. T.
SONNET TO HORATIUS,
PREVIOUS TO HIS GOING TO THE EAST INDIES.
Say, can the fields luxuriant of the East,
Or all the wealth that Asia's sons possess ;
On wbich proud man lays such an awful stress !
Than what the heroes of the island see?
Her sons are honest, virtuous, and free!
But I'll not trace them lest I mar thy views;
And thine to mind the precepts of the muse!
Relieve her woes, and bless thy happier sphere.
SLOWLY bend the willów trees,
O'er the brook their branches ware, Near their roots the trav'ler sees
Th’rustling grass on Edmund's grave. ***
LYING DICK ; OR, DEATH AND THE DOCTOR.
An English ship, in desperate fight
With Gallic foes engag'd,
The unequal conflict wag'd.
But victory crown'd the British Aag
Though purchas'd by the blood
Who for his country stood.
The fight once o'er, the surgeons next
O'er wounded bodies creep,
They sentence to the deep.
One manly fellow on the deck
Had felt the Gallic fire;
Poor Dick; nicknam'd the liar.
For truth from Dick's unsteady tongue,
Too rarely found the way;
Him motionless and stain'd with gore
The surgeon left for dead :
Heave to his watery bed.
They stoop; they heave the bleeding load;
But life was not all gone:
“ You lubbers set me down ?”
Amaz’d they stand; but knowing well
VON SCHLEMNER AND POT LUCK.
His Germau friend to dine
And drink some good port wine.
Mern HERR repair'd at proper time
Witb stomach for the treat:
Von SCHLEMNER took his seat.
Soup, turkey, beef, by turns were serv'd,
MEIN HERR decliu'd each one:
VON SCHĻEMNER tasted none !
His host, at length, by kindness urg'd
Press'd him to take some duck; “ Ach mein !" with groans Von SCALEMNER said, “ I vait for de pot luck.”
THE DOUBT CLEARED UP. TO MISS SARAH MORGAN, OF YATTON COURT, HEREFORDSHIRE,