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النشر الإلكتروني

O veteran chaw, thy fibres savoury strong,

Whilst ought remain’d to chew thy master chewd, Then cast thee here, when all thy juice was gone,

Emblem of selfish man's ingratitude !

A happy man, O cast-off quid, is he

Who, like as thou, has comforted the poor. Happy his age, who knows himself like thee,

Thou didst thy duty, man can do no more.

THEODERIT.

To a FRIEND

Settled in the COUNTRY.

Richard, the lot which fate to thee has given,
Almost excites my envy.

This
green

field Sweet solace to the wearied mind must yield; And yonder wide circumference of heaven,

At morn or when the day-star rides on high, Or when the calm and mellowed light of even

Softens the glory of the western sky,

Spreads only varied beauties to thine eye. And when these scenes, these lovely scenes so fair,

Hill, vale, and wood, are hidden from thy sight, Still thro' the deepness of the quiet air,

Canst thou behold the radiant host of night,

And send thy spirit thro' the infinite, Till lofty contemplation end in prayer.

Richard, the lot which fate to thee has given, I not unenvying shall recall to mind, In that foul town, by other fate confined, Where never running brook, nor verdant field,

Nor yonder wide circumference of heaven, Sweet solace to the wearied soul can yield.

REMEMBRANCE.

The remembrance of Youth is a sigh.

Ali

Man hath a weary pilgrimage

As thro' the world he wends;
On every stage from youth to age,

Still discontent attends.
With heaviness he casts his eye

Upon the road before,
And still remembers with a sigh,

The days that are no more.

When first Remembrance in the soul

Awakes her infant power, "Tis but to teach the hard controul

That binds the present hour.

From strange restraints and idle rules,
The tyrant discipline of schools,

The childish thought will roam ;
And tears will struggle in his eye,
Whilst he remembers with a sigh,

The comforts of his home.

The emancipating hour is come,

The long-expected years!
And still he shares the common doom,

The slave of hopes and fears.
Young Love before his eager eyes
Presents a promised paradise,
But still the sullen fiend Delay,
Or bars him on his onward way

To scenes so seeming fair ;
Or he

may

reach the wish'd-for seat, And when he thinks his joys compleat,

Find Disappointment there.
So he remembers with a sigh
The careless days of infancy!

Maturer manhood now arrives,

And other thoughts, come on ; But with the baseless hopes of youth

Its generous warmth is gone. Cold calculating cares succeed; The timid thought, the wary deed,

The dull realities of truth. Back on the past he turns his eye, Remembering with an envious sigh

The faery dreams of youth.

So reaches he the latter stage
Of this our mortal pilgrimage,

With feeble step and slow;
New ills his latter stage await,
And old experience learns too late,

That all is vanity below.
Life's vain delusions are gone by,

Its idle hopes are o’er ;
Yet age remembers with a sigh,
The days that are no more.

R.

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