Was forc'd (hard fate !) at plenty's door
The mite of pity to implore.

But soon, ah! soon an orphan left;
Of ev'ry stay, save Heaven, bereft;
In coarsest tatters but half-drest,
Without a home or place of rest,
The little roamer liv'd distrest.

Alas! that on life's thorny way,
There are who virtue will betray:
For in her youth, KATE lov'd too well,
And soon to love a victim fell!
Now robb'd of reason, all day long,
The wand'rer sings her plaintive song:-
"Come Death! thou friend to the distrest,
Strike, strike, at once, this tortur'd breast,
And ease poor KATE, who cannot rest!"

THE CASTLE BUILDER.

TUNE,-By the Author.

"I'LL build a high house, on this hill, says old Grub,

Where house never stood before;

A man like Goliah shall stand at my gate,
And drive far away all the poor,

With a bang!

Wise men agree that the rabble are better of a good sound beating, and all that.

Yes! the beggars he'll keep from my door!

"My eldest son, Tom, shall prime minister be; Soon Will shall the army lead:

My daughter shall give to Lord Simple her hand; I'm rich, and am sure to succeed,

Worth a plum!

First man on change! Safe! Snug in the last loan! A speculator in hops, cotton, and all that!

Yes! I'm rich, and must therefore succeed!

"I'll level yon mountain, and dig a large lake,
Where navies in safety may ride;

Then fill it with all the choice fish of the sea,
And angle in punt by the side;

Charming sport!

Catching salmon, sprats, trout, turbot, mackerel, and minnow; under rocks, woods, cascades, and all that! While I smoke in my punt, by the side!

"Yon cottages, too, must be all clear'd away,
And so shall the old thatch'd mill;

The alms-house I'll soon to a dog-kennel turn;
The poor may e'en go where they will,

What care I!

Must have parks, deer, meads, flocks, groves, and all

that!

Yes! the poor may e'en starve where they will!

"On the right of my house, a church like St. Paul's, On the left, a castle I'll plan;

That the gentles may say, as they travel that way, See the works of a marvellous man!

Blest retreat!

River stealing away unheard, and scarce seen! Gardens laid out in old Dutch style! Trees cropped; pleasure box in front; Apollos, Dragons, Cupids, Mermaids, and all that!

These are works of a marvellous man!

"Then the neighbours around I'll frighten with law, Till all near me, worth having, is mine;

Shou'd a clown shoot a hare, I'll confine him for life, None but fools will to mercy incline!

Let him rot!

Must shew authority; punish poachers; preserve game, and all that:

Yes! fools may to mercy incline!"

Now old Grub hobbl'd home, and smok'd a long pipe, And bottom'd a mug of small beer;

Then went to his bed; soon the grim spectre, Death, Cut him off in his crazy career:

All was done!

What avails house, porter, power, cash, hops, cotton, lake, fish, rocks, woods, punt, kennel, parks, deer, meads, flocks, groves, church, castle, river, trees, Apollos, dragons, cupids, lands, game, pipe, beer, and all that!''

Unless we do good whilst we're here!

From the prince to the peasant, in every state,
What Grubs do we daily see!

May his castles endure who feedeth the poor;
After death he rewarded will be:

Yes, he will!

We are told, “He who giveth to the poor, lendeth to the Lord."

Yes! rewarded he surely will be!

FAREWELL TO GILSLAND.

ADIEU, ye dun heaths, purple vales, and wild flowers, Ye banks whose proud steeps in green verdure

are drest;

Ye walks, and ye woodlands, ye glades, and cool bowers,

In whose retir'd shades oft the wearied find rest. To the town and its follies, fate calls me away; But reluctant and sad I the summons obey.

Adieu, ye grey crags, and thou hoarse-murm❜ring river,

Whose sounds, heard afar, lull the mind to repose; Near thee could I dwell in retirement, and ever

On thy wood-fring'd windings forget all my woes: There, free from temptation, unknown would I live, And taste the delights only virtue can give.

And thou source of health, whose clear waters still flowing,

Faint tppe of His bounty who governs this ball; New vigour, new life, to the wretched bestowing,

Long may thy blue streams pour their healing to all; And thy rock be the seat of contentment and mirth, While peace, love, and virtue are cherish'd on earth.