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“ I saw, the pride of all the meadow,

“ At noon, a gay narcissus blow
Upon a river's bank, whose shadow
“ Bloom'd in the filver waves below;

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By noon-tide's heat its youth was wasted,

« The waters, as they pass'd, complain'd: “ At eve its glories all were blafted,

“ And not one former tint remain'd.

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“ Nor let vain wit's deceitful glory

« Lead you from wisdom's path astray ; " What genius lives renown'd in story

“ To happiness who found the way?

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“ In yonder mead behold that vapor

“ Whose vivid beams illufive play, « Far off it seems a friendly taper

“ To guide the traveller on his way;

“ But should some hapless wretch pursuing

“ Tread where the treach'rous meteors glow, 70 " He'd find, too late his rashness rueing,

“ That fatal quicksands lurk below.

“ In life such bubbles nought admiring,

“ Gilt with false light and fill’d with air, Do you, froin pageant crowds retiring,

« To peace in virtue's cot repair; POL. II.

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6. There seek the never-wasted treasure,

“ Which mutual love and friendship give, “ Domestic comfort, spotless pleasure,

“ And bless’d and blessing you will live.

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“ If heav'n with children crowns your dwelling,

56 As mine its bounty does with you, • In fondness fatherly excelling

Th' example you have felt pursue."

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He paus'd--for tenderly caressing

The darling of his wounded heart, Looks had means only of expressing

Thoughts language never could impart.

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Now Night her mournful mantle spreading;

Had rob’d with black th' horizon round, And dank dews from her treffes shedding

With genial moisture bath'd the ground;

When back to city follies flying,

'Midst custom's llaves he liv'd resign'd, His face, array'd in smiles, denying

The true complexion of his mind;

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For seriously around surveying

Each character, in youth and age,
Of fools betray'd, and knaves betraying,

That play'd upon this human ftage,

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(Peaceful himself and undesigning)

He loath'd the scenes of guile and strife, And felt each secret wish inclining

To leave this fretful farce of life.

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Yet to whate'er above was fated

Obediently he bow'd his soul,
For what all bounteous heav'n created,

He thought heav'n only should controal.

THE LAWYER'S FAREWELL TO HIS

MUSE.

WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1744.

BY SIR WILLIAM BLACKSTONE, KT.

ONL OF THE JUDGLS OF THE COMMON PLLAS.

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As, by fome tyrant's stern command,
A wretch forsakes his native land,
In foreign climes condemn'd to roam
An endless exile from his home ;
Penfive he treads the destin'd way,
And dreads to go, nor dares to stay ;
'Till on some neighb'ring mountain's brow
He stops, and turns his eyes below;
There, melting at the well-known view,
Drops a last tear, and bids adieu :
So I, thus doom'd from thee to part,
Gay queen of Fancy and of Art,
Reluctant move, with doubtful mind,
Oft stop, and often look behind.

Companion of my tender age,
Serenely gay, and sweetly sage,
How blithsome were we wont to rove
By verdant hill, or shady grove,

* Born 1723; dyed 1780.

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Where fervent bees, with humming voice,
Around the honey'd oak rejoice,
And aged elms with aweful bend
In long cathedral walks extend !
Lull'ờ by the lapse of gliding floods,
Chear'd by the warbling of the woods,
How bleft my days, my thoughts how free,
In sweet society with thee !
Then all was joyous, all was young,
And years unheeded roll'd along :
But now the pleasing dream is o'er,
These scenes must charm me now no more.
Loft to the field, and torn from you,
Farewel !-a long, a last adieu.

Me wrangling courts, and stubborn Law,
To smoak and crowds, and cities draw;
There selfish Faction rules the day,
And Pride and Av'rice throng the way :
Diseases taint the murky air,
And midnight conflagrations glare ;
Loose Revelry and Riot bold
In frighted streets their orgies hold;
Or, when in silence all is drown'd,
Pell Murder walks her lonely round ;
No room for peace, no room for you,
Adieu, celestial Nymph, adieu !

Shakespear no more, thy sylvan son,
Vor all the art of Addison,

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