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Art thou, my G**** *, for ever filed!
And am I left to unavailing wo!
When fortune's storms assail this weary head,
Where cares long since have shed untimely snow,
Ah, now for comfort whither shall I go!
No more thy soothing voice my anguish chears :
Thy placid eyes with smiles no longer glow,

My hopes to cherish, and allay my fears. 'Tis meet that I should mourn :--flow forth afresh my tears.








WHEN in the crimson cloud of Even,
The lingering light decays,
And Hesper on the front of heaven
His glittering gem displays;

the silent vale, unseen,
Beside a lulling stream,
A pensive Youth of placid mien,
Indulged this tender theme.'

Ye cliffs, in hoary grandeur piled
High o'er the glimmering dale;
Ye woods, along whose windings wild
Murmurs the solemn gale;

• This, and most of the following pieces, are taken from a Collection of Juvenile Poems by the same hand, published many years ago. The Editor hopes they will be agreeable to his readers : but was with difficulty he could prevail on the Author to consent to their being reprinted.

Where Melancholy strays forlorn,
And Wo retires to weep,
What time the wan moon's yellow horn
Gleams on the western deep:

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To you, ye wastes, whose artless charms
Ne’er drew Ambition's eye,
Scaped a tumultuous world's alarms,
To your retreats I fly.
Deep in your most sequester'd bower
Let me at last recline,
Where Solitude, mild, modest Power,
Leans on her ivy'd shrine.

How shall I woo thee, matchless Fair!
Thy heavenly smile how win!
Thy smile, that smooths the brow of Care,
And stills the storm within.

O wilt thou to thy favourite grove
Thine ardent votary bring,
And bless his hours, and bid them move
Serene, on silent wing.

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