May dear Miss S, and dear Miss N, For this I often pray, The virtues of this water feel, Still more from day to day. May he, who join'd your hearts below, And guard you thro' this world of woe, And when before his throne of grace, Let me have in your thoughts a place; January 16, 1801. J. N. EPITAPH ON MISS R's GOLDFINCH. JUST here I have interr'd When Death may strike his blow. But no less frail your breath, ; Nor more secure from death; TO A LADY ON HER BIRTH-DAY, WRITTEN ON MY OWN. LIKE rising ground a new birth-day, We hitherto have come; And helps us to look forward too, Behind us, rais'd from year to year, Of benefits bestow'd. Before us, Zion's gate is seen, To us is yet unknown; But we may trust the Lord our friend, Tho' many changes we have past, Our gourds must fade, our friends must die, We cannot be forgot. On his kind care may we repose, Our frame, our fears, our wants, he knows ; And says, "I will provide, "Tho' foes surround and press you hard, Assist us Lord, with stedfast aim, There many, whom we lov'd below, And wonder, and adore; We hope with them, ere long, to meet, And join their songs in concert sweet, For ever-evermore. ΤΟ MISS S**** G* ******, ON THE ANNIVERSARY OF HER BIRTH-DAY. FLIRTILLA, born to dress and dance, Seems, more and more, as years advance, Can I rejoice on her birth-day? I see more cause to weep For her who only lives to play, Unmindful of the gracious pow'r, |