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APPY the man, whose wish and care

A few paternal acres bound,
Content to breathe his native air,

In his own ground.
Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,

Whose flocks fupply him with attire,
Whose trees in summer yield him shade,

In winter fire, Bleft, who can unconcern'dly find

Hours, days, and years slide soft away,
In health of body, peace of mind,

Quiet by day,
Sound sleep by night ; study and ease,

Together mix'd ; fweet recreation ;
And innocence, which moft does please

With meditation.
Thus let me live, unseen, unknown,

Thus unlamented let me die,
Steal from the world, and not a stone

Tell where I lie.



6 This was a very early production of our Author, written at about twelve years old,

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VITAL spark of heav'nly fame!

Quit, oh quit this mortal.frame:
Trembling, hoping, ling'ring, flying,

Oh the pain, the bliss of dying!
Cease, fond Nature, cease thy Atrife,
And let me languish into life.

Hark! they whisper ; Angels say,
Sister Spirit, come away.
What is this absorbs me quite ?

Steals my senses, fhuts my fight,
Drowns my spirits, draws my breath?
Tell me, my Soul, can this be Death?

The world recedes ;, it disappears !
Heav'n opens on my eyes ! my ears

With founds seraphic ring :
Lend, lend your wings ! I mount! I fly!
O Grave ! where is thy Victory?

O Death! where is thy Sting?


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