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Must be decided by the worth
Of that, which call'd his ardour forth. IT
Trifles pursu'd, whate'er th' event,
Must cost him shame or discontent;br /
A vicious object still is worse, Us W
Successful there he wins a curse ;
But he whom e’en in life's last stage
Endeavours laudable engage,

habe ich
Is paid, at last in peace of mind,
And sense of having well designd;
And if, he ere attain his end, we
His sun precipitate descend,

A brighter prize than that he meant
Shall recompense his mere
No virtuous wish can bear a date
Either too early or too late." Itula

The green-house is my summer seat ;
B|My shrubs displac'd from that retreat

Enjoy'd the open air ;
Two goldfinches, whose sprightly song
Had been their mutual solace long, ain't

Liv'd happy pris'ners there. tovo Fidt
They sang as blithe as finches sing, dinio la
That flutter loose on golden wing, so pred

And frolic where they list; los os byna Strangers to liberty, 'tis true, ollal ventuelt But that delight they never knew, veloten

And therefore never miss’d.tumiw But nature works in ev'ry breast, worist A With force not easily suppress'd; od sam

And Dick felt some desires, gevodui els That, after many an effort vain, 150w woni dua Instructed him at length to gain if gtsdyr hul

A pass between his wires. lig envy obiW


The open windows seem'd t invite
The freeman to a farewell flight;

But Tom was still confin'd;
And Dick, although his way was clear,
Was much too gen'rous and sincere

To leave his friend behind.
So settling on his cage, by play,
And chip, and kiss, he seem'd to say,

6 You must not live alone"
Nor would he quit that chosen stand
Till I, with slow and cautious hand,

Return'd him to his own.
O, ye, who never taste the joys
of Friendship, satisfied with noise,

Fandango, ball, and rout!
Blush, when I tell you how a bird,
A prison with a friend preferr'd

To liberty without.



THERE is a field, through which I often pass, Thick overspread with moss and silky grass, Adjoining close to Kilwick's echoing wood, Where oft the bitch-fox hides her hapless brood, Resery'd to solace many a neighb’ring squire, That he may follow them through brake and brier, Contusion hazarding of neck, or spine, Which rural gentlemen call sport divine. A narrow brook, by rushy banks conceal’d, Runs in a bottom, and divides the field; Oaks intersperse it that had once a head, But now wear crests of oven-wood instead; And where the land slopes to its wat’ry bourn, Wide yawns a gulf beside a ragged thorn;

Bricks line the sides, but shiver'd long ago,
And horrid brambles intertwine below;
A hollow scoop'd, I judge, in ancient time,
For baking earth, or burning rock to lime.

Not yet the hawthorn bore her berries red, WT
With which the fieldfare, wintry guest, is fed ; 0
Nor Autumn yet had brush'd from ev'ry spray,
With her chill hand, the mellow leaves away;
But corn was hous’d, and beans were in the stack,
Now, therefore, issu'd forth the spotted pack,
With tails high mounted, ears hung low, and throats,
With a whole gamut fill'd of heav'nly notes, word
For which, alas ! my destiny severe,
Though ears she gave me two, gave me no ear. H

The Sun, accomplishing his early march, ia asial His lamp now planted on Heav'n's topmast arch, When, exercise and air my only aim, sadol of And heedless whither, to that field I came, Ere yet with ruthless joy the happy hound out Told hill and dale that Reynard's track was found, Or, with the high-rais'd horn's melodious clang All Kilwick and all Dinglederry* rang.

Skeep graz’d the field; some with soft bosom press'd The herb as soft, while nibbling stray'd the rest; Nor noise was heard but of the hasty brook, Struggling, detain’d in many a petty nook, All seem'd so peaceful, that, from them convey'd, To me their peace by kind contagion spread.

But when the huntsman, with distended cheek, O Gan make his instrument of music speak, on And from within the wood that crash was heard, Though not a hound from whom it burst appear'd, The sheep recumbent, and the sheep that graz’d, All huddling into phalanx, stood and gaz'da Admiring, terrified, the novel strain, Then cours’d the field around, and cours'd it round again; olada

on the la Two woods belonging to John Throckmorton, Esq.

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