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PRINTED AND SOLD BY JAMES HUMPHREYS.

At the N.W. Corner of Walnut and Dock-street.

1802.

15 AUG 1958

CONTENTS

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Expostulation and Reply

The Tables turned; an Evening Seene on the same

Subject

Animal Tranquillity, and Decay, a Sketch
The Complaint of a forsaken Indian Woman
The Last of the Flock
Lines left upon a Seat in a Yew-tree which stands

51
45
75
95
90
87

near the Lake of Esthwaite

The Foster-mother's Tale

Goody Blake and Harry Gill

The Thorn

We are Seven

Anecdote for Fathers

Lines written at a small Distance from my House,

and sent by my little Boy to the Person to whom

they are addressed

The Female Vagrant

The Dungeon

Simon Lee, the Old Huntsman

Lines written in early Spring.

The Nightingale, written in April 1798

Lines written near Richmond, upon the Thames

The Idiot Boy

Love

The Mad Mother

The Ancient Mariner

On Revisiting the Wye

The Convict

80

61

112

82

93

55

139

119

I

114

13

153

150

PREFACE.

THE First Volume of these Poems has already been submitted to general perusal. It was published as an experiment which, I hoped, might be of some use to ascertain, how far, by fitting to Metrical arrangement a selection of the real language of men in a state of vivid sensation, that sort of pleasure and that quantity of pleasure may be imparted, which a Poet may rationally endeavour to impart.

I had formed no very inaccurate estimate of the probable effect of those Poems: I flattered myself, that they who should be pleased with them would read them with more than common pleasure; and on the other hand I was well aware, that by those who should dislike them they would be read with more than common dislike. The result has differed from my expectation in this only, that I have pleased a greater number than I ventured to hope I should please.

For the sake of variety, and from a consciousness of my own weakness, I was induced to request the assistance of a friend, who furnished me with the Poems of the ANCIENT MARINER, the Foster MOTHER'S TALE, the NIGHTINGALE, the DunGEON, and the Poem entitled Love. I should not however, have requested this assistance, had I not believed, that the Poems of my friend would, in a great measure, have the same tendency as my own, and that though there would be found a difference, there would be found no discordance in the colours of our style; as our opinions on the subject of Poetry do almost entirely coiecide.

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