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The Laplander, who, half the year,
Nor wishes more for light.
But what were light, without my love,
Or objects e'er fo fine?
The flowery meadow, field, or grove,
Fly fwift, ye hours, be calm the day,
O hafte and bring him to my arms;
My breast shall beat no more alarms,
Written to a near Neighbour in a tempestuous Night, 1748.
By the Same.
OU bid my Mufe not cease to fing,
And boisterous winds fhall never blow:
When fuch miracles can prove,
Which harshly in my ears refound;
No jocund pipe to ftill the found;
While spleen and care my rest invade,
Say, fhall we Morpheus next implore,
To fleep unheard of- than to glow
Written at a Ferme Ornee near Birmingham; August 7th, 1749.
By the Same.
IS Nature here bids pleasing scenes arise,
How well the bard obeys, each valley tells;
The GOLDFINCHES. An Elegy.
Ingenuas didiciffe fideliter artes
groves protect the feather'd quires,
'Twas gentle spring, when all the tuneful race,
By nature taught, in nuptial leagues combine: A goldfinch joy'd to meet the warm embrace,
And hearts and fortunes with her mate to join.
Through Nature's spacious walks at large they rang'd,
'Till on a day to weighty cares refign'd,
All in a garden, on a currant-bush,
With wond'rous art they built their waving feat:
In the next orchat liv'd a friendly thrush,
Here bleft with ease, and in each other bleft,
With early fongs they wak'd the fprightly groves, 'Till time matur'd their blifs, and crown'd their nest With infant pledges of their faithful loves.
And now what transport glow'd in either's eye!
And future fonnets in the chirping brood!
But ah! what earthly happiness can laft?
How does the fairest purpose often fail? A truant-school-boy's wantonnefs could blast Their rifing hopes, and leave them both to wail.
The most ungentle of his tribe was he;
He fcrawl'd his tafk, and blunder'd o'er his