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To a BROTHER,
Who had been afflicted with a long Sickness.
By CHARLES LLOYD.
My Brother thou hast led a weary life,
On former days, and scenes of former love,
To my hearth's quietness, (when nought is heard
Save the faint startings of the ember, now
Till suddenly the meditating part
Will question of their being.
And visited by sorrows many and hard,
Thou'rt jostled through life's strange disorder'd mass !
The heart's faint fever, and the sickening thought
And mingling balsams with the cup of death.
September 27, 1798.
Margaret, who is the old man crossing the stile in the pea-field,
O'tis a pedlaring jew, by the long white beard on his bosom.
See! he is weary and sits down, flings off his hat on the herbage,
Plucks of the cool fresh leaves of the walnut to wipe from his forehead
When he is rested the foot-path cannot but bring him to us here.
Have you some money my brother? I want new ribbands for Sunday,Pink is my favourite color. I'll purchase a half-worth of needles; This that I have is too coarse, and it makes great holes in my sampler. Now you shall buy me a thimble! you know 'twas in marking your neckband T'other was lost; but you spent at the fair every jot of your earnings, Gave to Louisa a black silk cloak and cozen'd your sister.
Hither my friend, be not lazy by noon, for the times go hard now.
Please you a capital show of the French Revolution at Paris,
Views of the Palace at Versailles, views of the grand federation,
Well, I'll pay for us both. Reach Isaac the tankard! I pledge you.
How the silver is dull with the dew-drops!
What's that a sign of, ha ? brother.
A sign that 'tis cold in the cellar.
Kneel on the stool, Madge, shut one eye close. Isaac is ready.
First print, Miss, is a view of the famous City of Paris.
Christ! what a sight of housen, and churches, and barges, and people!
Right in the middle the Seine, with its bridges and islands of building.