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Rafhly deceiv'd, I saw no pits to fhun ;
But thought, to purpose, and to act, were one;
Heedless what pointed cares pervert his way,
Whom caution arms not, and whom woes betray :
But now expos'd, and shrinking from distress,
I fly to shelter, while the tempefts press;
My Muse to grief religns the varying tone,
The raptures languish, and the numbers groan !

O Memory! thou foul of joy and pain !
Thou actor of our passions o'er again !
Why dost thou aggravate the wretch's woe?
Why add continuous smart to every blow?
Few are my joys; alas ! how foon forgot !
On that kind quarter thou invad'st me not ;
While sharp and numberless my forrows fall,
Yet thou repeat'ft and multiply'st 'em all !

Is chance a guilt ; that my difaft'rous heart,
For mischief never meant, must ever smart ?
Can self-defence be fin-Ah, plead no more !
What tho' no purpos'd malice stain’d thee o’er;
Had Heav'n befriended thy unhappy fide,
Thou had it not been provok'dor, thou had'ft died.

Far be the guilt of homeshed blood from all,
On whom, unfought, embroiling dangers fall!
Still the pale dead revives, and lives to me;
To me! thro' Pity's eye condemn’d to see.
Remembrance veils his rage, but swells his fate ;
Griev'd I forgive, and am grown cool too late.
Young, and unthoughtful then ; who knows, one day,
What ripening virtues might have made their way!
He might have liv'd, till Folly died in same,
Till kindling Wisdom felt a thirst for fame.
He might perhaps his country's friend have provod
Both happy, gen'rous, candid, and belov'd :
He might have fav'd fome worth, now doom'd to fall;
And I, perchance, in him, have murder'd all.

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O fate

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O fate of late repentance ! always vain :
Thy remedies but lull undying pain.
Where shall my hope find rest! No mother's care
Shielded

my

infant innocence with prayer ;
No father's guardian hand my youth maintain's,
Callid forth my virtues, or from vice restrain’d.
Is it not thine to snatch foie pow'rful arm,
First to advance, then screen from future harm?
I am return'd from death, to live in pain ;
Or would imperial Pity fave in vain?
Diftrust it not: what blame can Mercy find,
Which gives at once a life, and rears a mind ?

Mother, miscall'd, farewel !-of foul severe,
This fad reflection yet may force one tear :
All I was wretched by, to you I ow'd;
Alone from strangers ev'ry comfort flow'd !

Loft to the life you gave, your son no more,
And now adopted, who was doom'd before;
New-born, I may a nobler mother claim,
But dare not whisper her immortal name :
Supremely lovely, and serenely great!
Majestick mother of a kneeling state!
Queen of a people's heart, who ne'er before
Agreed-yét now with one consent adore !
One contest yet remains in this desire,
Who moft shall give applause, where all admire.

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BY CAPT. JOHN DOBSON.
OWN by the brook which glides thro' yonder vale,

His hair all matted, and his cheeks all pale,
Robin, sad swain, by love and sorrow pain’d,
Of lighted vows, and Susan, thus complain’d:

M m

« Hear

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• Hear me, ye groves, who saw me bless’d so late ;

Echo, you hills, my fad reverse of fate; • Ye winds, that bear my sighs, soft murmurs send; • Come pay me back, ye streams, the drops I lend: • And you, sweet Susan, source of all my smart, • Bestow some pity on a broken heart. • Happy the times, by painful memory blefs’d,

When you posseffing, Robin all possess'd ! • Pass’d by your fide, each day brought new delight, · And one sweet slumber shorten'd every night. • My play your service, for no toil seem'd hard, < When your kind favour was the hop'd reward. • I rose to milking, though 'twas ne'er so cool ; • I call'd the cows up; I kept off the bull: · Home on my head I bore the pail upright;

The pail was heavy, but love made it light; • And when you spilt the milk, and 'gan to cry, • I took the blame, and simply said—“'Twas I.” " When by the haycock's side you sleeping lay, • Sent by good angels, there I chanc'd to stray,

Just as a loathsome adder rear'd his crest, - To dart his poison in your lily breast,

Straight with a stone I crush'd the monster's head ; • You wak’d, and fainted, though you found him dead! « Then, from the pond, I water brought apace, • My hat brimful, and dash'd it in your face :

Still, blue as bilberry, your cold lips did quake, • Till my warm kisses call’d the cherry back. " When, looking thro' his worship’s garden-gate, • Ripe peaches tempted, and you long’d to eat ; • Tho' the grim mastiff growld, and sternly stalk'd, • Tho' guns were loaded, and old Madam walk'd;

Nor dogs nor darkness, guns or ghosts, could fright, " When Robin ventur'd for his Sue's delight : • Joyful of midnight, quick I poft away, "Leap the high wall, and fearless pluck the prey ;

« Down

1

waist;

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* Down in your lap a plenteous shower they fall ;
* Glad you receiv'd them, and you eat them all.
• When fair-day came, I donr'd my Sunday suit,
• Brush'd the best pillion clean, and saddled Cutt.
· T'hen up we got ; you clung about my
* Pleas'd to be hugg'd, I charg'd you clip me faft ;
* And when you loos’d your hold, and backwards slipp'd,
• I held your petticoats, and never peep'd.
• The pofied garters, and the top-knot fine,
• The golden gingerbread, and all was mine:
• I paid the puppet-fhow, the cakes, the sack;

And, fraught with fairings, brought you laughing back.
• Susan but spoke, and each gay flower was there,
« To dress her bough-pot, or adorn her hair 5

For her the choicest of the woods I cull,
Sloes, hips, and strawberries, her bellyful :
My hoard of apples I to her confess’d;

My heart was her's, well might she have the rest,
« And Susan well approv'd her Robin's care :
Yes, you was pleas'd ; at least you

faid

you were,
* In love's soft fire you seem'd like me to burn,
« And sooth'd my fondness with a kind return.

At our long table, when we sat to dine,
- You stretch'd your knees, and mingled feet with mine
• With fattest bacon you my trencher ply'd,
• And flic'd my pudding from the plummy side :
* And well I wot, when our small-beer was stale,
• You stole into the barn, and brought me ale.
• But, oh! the soldier, blaster of my hopes!

(Curse on pretending kings, and Papish popes !)
• He came from Flanders with the red-coat crew,

To fight with rebels, and he conquer'd you.
• His dowlas ruffles, and his copper lace,

His brickdust stockings, and his brazen face ;
These are the charms for which you sight my youth,
Charms mạch too potent for a maiden's truth!
M m 2

( Soon

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• Soon on the feather'd fool you turn'd your eyes;

Eager you listen’d to the braggart's lyes ;
• And, fcorning me, your heart to him refign,
• Your faithless heart, by vows and service mine.
True, he is gone, by our brave duke's command,
To humble Britain's foes in foreign land :
« Ah, what is that! the spoiler bears away
• The only thing for which 'twas worth to stay.
• But forrow's dry; I'll nake it in the brook-
• well-a-day! how frightful pale I look!
“ Care's a consumer," (fo the saying speaks ;)
• The saying's true, I read it in my cheeks.
• Fye! I'll be chcarful, 'tis a fancied pain ;
• A flame so constant cannot meet disdain :

I'll wash my face, and shake off foul despair ;

My love is kind!-alas, I would she were!
Well says our parson ; and our parson said,
“ True love, and tithes, should ever well be paid."

Susan, from you my heart shall never roam,
• If your's be wandering, quickly call it home,'

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THE

HE greedy merchant plows the fea for gain,

And rides exulting o’er the watery plain ;
While howling tempeíts, from their rocky bed,
Indignant break around his careful head.

The royal fleet the liquid waste explores,
And speaks in thunder to the trembling shores;

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