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88. Giles Jollup the Grave & Brown Sally Green Lewis.
89. William Penn, Nathan, and the Bailiff Peter Pindar.

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96. To a Lady, who refused to accept a Knife Sheridan.

XVIII.

99. Elegy. Written to diffuade a young Lady, &c. Bull.

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135. The Peafant of Auburn ...

136. On viewing the Corpfe of a Sifter

137. The Mouse's Petition

XXVIII..

Coombe.

Hurdis.

Mrs. Barbauld.

138. Elegy. Written on the Plain of Fontenoy Matilda.

139. Corin's Profeffion : : : :

140. Love and Induftry,

141. To the Sun . . .

142. Hymn to Benevolence

143. Soliloquy on my Laft Six-pence

144. The Freebooter

XXIX.

145. Lines on the Death of a Wife

146. My Native Home.

Peter Pindar.

Mifs Seward.

Fawcett. Blacklock.

Anon.

Bürger.

Anon

Mrs. Robinfon.

147. A War Poem, on the late Mr. Blythe . . . . Anon.

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HO is fhe, the poor maniac, whose wildly-fix'd

WHO

eyes

Seem a heart overcharg'd to exprefs?

She weeps not, yet often and deeply the fighs;
She never complains, but her filence implies
The compofure of fettled diftrefs.

No aid, no compaffion the maniac will feek;
Cold and hunger awake not her care:
Through the rags do the winds of the winter blow bleak
On her poor wither'd bofom, half bare; and her cheek
Has the deathly pale hue of defpair.

Yet cheerful and happy, nor diftant the day,
Poor Mary, the maniac, has been;

The trav❜ller remembers, who journey'd this way,
No damfel fo lovely, no damfel fo gay,
As Mary, the Maid of the Inn.

Her cheerful addrefs fill'd the guests with delight,
As fhe welcom'd them in with a smile;
Her heart was a stranger to childish affright,
And Mary would walk by the abbey at night,

When the wind whistled down the dark aifle.

She lov'd, and young Richard had fettled the day,
And the hop'd to be happy for life;

But Richard was idle and worthlefs, and they
Who knew him would pity poor Mary, and say
That she was too good for his wife.

'Twas in autumn, and ftormy and dark was the night, And faft were the windows and door;

Two guefts fat enjoying the fire that burnt bright,
And fmoaking in filence, with tranquil delight,
They liften'd to hear the wind roar.

""Tis pleafant," cry'd one,"feated by the fire-fide, "To hear the wind whiftle without."

"A fine night for the abbey," his comrade reply'd. "Methinks a man's courage would now be well try'd, "Who fhould wander the ruins about.

"I myself, like a fchool-boy, should tremble to hear
"The hoarfe ivy fhake over my head;
"And could fancy I faw, half perfuaded by fear,
"Some ugly old abbot's white fpirit appear;
"For this wind might awaken the dead.”

"I'll wager a dinner," the other one cry'd,
"That Mary would venture there now!"
"Then wager and lofe !" with a fneer he reply'd,
"I'll warrant fhe'd fancy a ghoft by her fide,
"And faint if the faw a white cow."

"Will Mary this charge on her courage allow ?"
His companion exclaim'd with a smile;
"I fhall win, for I know fhe will venture there now,
"And earn a new bonnet, by bringing a bough

"From the alder that grows in the aifle."

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