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You laugh-'tis well-The tale applied, May make you laugh on t'other side, Renounce the world--the preacher cries; We dom multitude replies. While one az innocent regards A snug and friendly game at cards; And one, whatever you may say, Can see no evil in a play ; Some love a concert or a race ; And others shooting, and the chaco, Revil'd and lov'd, renounc'd and follow'd, Thus, bit by bit, the world is swallow'd; Each thinks his neighbour makes too free, Yet likes a slice as well as he: With sophistry their sauce they sweeten, Till quite fronı tail to snout 'tis eaten.
THE DEATH OF
Mrs. (NOW LADY) THROCKMORTCX's
YE nymphs! is c'er your eyes were red
() share Maria's grief!
Assassin'd by a thief.
Where Rhenus strays his vines among,
And, thouglı by nature mute,
Of flagelet or Aute.
The honours of his ebon poll
His bosom of the hue
To sweep away the dew
Above, below, in all the house,
No cat had leave to dwell ;
Large built and lattic'd well.
Well lattic'd--but the grate,
For Bully's plumage sake,
The swains their baskets make.
Night veil'd the pole ; all seem'd secure ,
Subsistence to provide,
And badger-colour'd hide
He, ent'ring at the study door
And something in the wind
Conjectur'd, sniffing round and round,
Food chiefly for the mind.
Just then, by adverse fate impress'd,
In sleep he seem'd to view
Awoke and found it true.
For aided both by ear and scent,
Ah muse! forbcar to speak
He left poor Bully's beak.
O had he made that too his prey;
Of such mellifluous tone,
Fast stuck within his own.
Maria weeps—the muses mourn-
On Thracean Hlebrus' side,
The cruel death he died.
The Rose had been wash'd, just wash'd in a show'r
Which Mary to Anna convey'd,
And weiglid down its beautiful heait.
The cup was all fill'd, and tho leaves were all wot,
And it seem'd to a fanciful view,
On the flourishing bush where it grew
I hastily seiz'd it, unfit as it was
For a nosegay, so dripping and drown'd, And swinging it rudely, loo rudely, alas!
I snapp'd it--it fell to the ground.
And such, I exclaim'd, is the pitiless part
Soine act by the delicatc mind,
Already to sorrow resign'd.
This elegant rose, had I shaken it loss,
Might have bloom'd with its owner a while ; And the tear that is wip'd with a little address,
May be follow'd perhaps by a smile
Man yet mistakes his way,
Are rare'y known to stray.
Ono silent ere I wander'd late,
And heard the voice of love:
And sooth'd the list’ning dove:
No time shall disengage,
Shall cheer our latest age :
While innocence without disguise,
And constancy sincere,
And mine can read them there.
'Those ills that wait on all below,
Shall ne'er be felt by me, Or gently felt, and only so, As being shar'd with thee.
Or kites are hov’ring near,
And know no other fear.
And press thy wedded side,
Death never shall divide.
(Forgive a transient thought,) Thou could become unkind at last, And scorn thy present lot,
Or kites with cruel beak;
This widow'd heart would break