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VISIT TO A FAVOURITE FIELD.

THE poplars are fell'd, and adieu to the fhade, And the whispering found of the cool colonnade; The winds play no longer, and fing in their leaves, Nor the Oufe, on its surface, their image receives.

Twelve

years had elaps'd fince I laft took a view Of my favourite field, and the place where they

grew;

When, behold, on their fides, in the grafs they were

laid,

And I fate on the trees under which I had ftray'd.

The blackbird has fought out another retreat, Where the hazels afford him a screen from the heat; And the fcene where his notes have oft charm'd me

before,

Shall refound with his fmooth-flowing ditty ne

more.

My fugitive years are all hafting away,
And I must myself lie as lowly as they,
With a turf at my breast, and a stone at my head,
Ere another fuch grove rifes up in its ftead.

The change both my heart and my fancy employs;
I reflect on the frailty of man and his joys;
Short-liv'd as we are, yet our pleasures, we fee,
Have a ftill fhorter date, and die fooner than we.

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FROM

THE ANNUAL BILL OF MORTALITY,

NORTHAMPTON.

-Placidiq; ibi demum morte quievit.

Virg.

Then calm at length he breath'd his foul away.

On moft delightful hour by man

46

Experienc'd here below;

"The hour that terminates his fpan,

"His folly and his woe.

"Worlds fhould not bribe me back to tread

"Again life's dreary wafte;

"To fee my days again o'erspread

"With all the gloomy past.

"My home, henceforth, is in the skies,

"Earth, feas, and fun adieu;

"All heaven unfolded to my eyes,

"I have no fight for you."

Thus fpake Afpatio, firm poffeft
Of faith's fupporting rod;

Then breath'd his foul into its reft,
The bofom of his God.

He was a man among the few

Sincere on Virtue's fide,

And all his ftrength from fcripture drew,

To hourly use apply'd.

That rule he priz'd, by that he fear'd,

He hated, hop'd, and lov'd,

Nor ever frown'd, or fad appear'd,

But when his heart had rov'd.

For he was frail as thou or I,

And evil felt within,

But when he felt it, heav'd a figh,
And loath'd the thought of fin.

Such liv'd Afpatio, and at last,

Call'd up from earth to heav'n, The gulph of death triumphant pafs'd, By gales of bleffing driven.

His joys be MINE, each reader cries,
When my laft hour arrives:

They shall be yours, my verse replies,
Such ONLY be your lives.

THE

DIVERTING HISTORY

OF

JOHN GILPIN;

SHOWING HOW HE WENT FARTHER THAN HE INTENDED, AND CAME SAFE HOME AGAIN.

JOHN GILPIN was a citizen

Of credit and renown,

A train-band captain eke was he of famous London town.

John Gilpin's fpoufe faid to her dear-
Though wedded we have been

These twice ten tedious years, yet we
No holiday have seen.

To-morrow is our wedding-day,
And we will then repair
Unto the Bell at Edmonton

All in a chaife and pair.

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