May you enjoy, my Lord, through the whole course of this and many more years, that found health of mind and body, which your important labours for the publick fo much want, and fo juftly merit! And may you foon have the fatisfaction to fee, what I know you fo ardently with, this deftructive war, however neceffary on our part, concluded by a fafe and lafting peace! Then, and not till then, all the noble arts, no less ufeful than ornamental to human life, and that now languish, may again flourish, under the eye and encouragement of thofe few, who think and feel as you do, for the advantage and honour of Great Britain. I with the fincereft attachment,

am,

MY LORD,

Your most faithful

humble fervant.

14

WIL

WILLIAM AND MARGARET.

"T

I.

I WAS at the filent, folemn hour,
When night and morning meet;

In glided Margaret's grimly ghost,
And ftood at William's feet.

II.

Her face was like an April-morn,
Clad in a wintery cloud;
And clay-cold was her lily-hand,
That held her fable shroud.

III.

So fhall the fairest face appear,

When youth and years are flown : Such is the robe that kings must wear, When death has reft their crown.

IV.

Her bloom was like the fpringing flower,

That fips the filver dew;

The role was budded in her cheek,

Juft opening to the view.

V.

But Love had, like the canker-worm,

Confum'd her early prime :

The rofe grew pale, and left her cheek;

She dy'd before her time.

VI. Awake!

VI.

Awake! fhe cry'd, thy true love calls,
Come from her midnight-grave;

Now let thy pity hear the maid,
Thy love refus'd to fave.

VII.

This is the dumb and dreary hour,
When injur'd ghosts complain;
When yawning graves give up their dead,
To haunt the faithlefs fwain.

VIII.

Bethink thee, William, of thy fault,
Thy pledge and broken oath ;

And give me back my maiden-vow,

Why did you promise love to me,

And not that promise keep?
Why did you fwear my eyes were bright,
Yet leave those eyes to weep?

X.

How could you fay my face was fair,
And yet that face forfake?

How could you win my virgin-heart,
Yet leave that heart to break?

XI.

Why did you fay, my lip was sweet,
And made the scarlet pale ?

And why did I, young witless maiḍ!

Believe the flattering tale?

XII. That

XII

That face, alas! no more is air,

Those lips no longer red :

Dark are my eyes, now clos'd in death,
And every charm is fled.

XIII.

The hungry worm my sister is;
This winding-fheet I wear:

And cold and weary lafts our night,

Till that laft morn appear.

XIV.

But, hark! the cock has warn'd me hence

A long and late adieu !

Come, fee, falfe man, how low the lies,

Who dy'd for love of you.

XV.

The lark fung loud.; the morning smil'd,

With beams of rofy red :

Pale William quak'd in every limb,

And raving left his bed.

XVI.

He hy'd him to the fatal place

Where Margaret's body lay;

And stretch'd him on the green-grafs turf,

That wrap'd her breathless clay.

XVII. And