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The Old Man's Comforts.

33

"In the days of my youth," father William re

plied,

"I remember'd that youth could not last; I thought of the future whatever I did, That I never might grieve for the past.”

"You are old, father William," the young man cried,

"And life muft be haft'ning away;

You are cheerful, and love to converse upon death: Now tell me the reafon, I pray."

"I am cheerful, young man," father William replied,

"Let the cause thy attention engage :

In the days of my youth I remember'd my God, And he hath not forgotten my age.'

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ANTHOLOGY.

THE

34

The Traveller's Return.

THE TRAVELLER'S RETURN.

SWEET to the morning traveller
The sky-lark's earliest song,
Whose twinkling wings are feen at fits
The dewy light among.

And cheering to the traveller

The gales that round him play, When faint and wearily he drags Along his noontide way.

And when beneath th' unclouded fun

Full wearily toils he,

The flowing water makes to him

Most pleasant melody.

And when the evening light decays,

And all is calm around,

There is fweet mufic to his ear

In the diftant fheep-bell's found.

And

To Fortune.

And sweet the neighbouring church's bell
That marks his journey's bourn;
But sweeter is the voice of love

That welcomes his return!

TO FORTUNE.

35

ANTHOLOGY.

I CARE not, Fortune, what you me deny:
You cannot rob me of free nature's grace,
You cannot shut the windows of the sky,
Thro' which Aurora fhows her brightening face:
You cannot bar my constant feet to trace
The woods and lawns, by living stream at eve:
Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace,
And I their toys to the great children leave:
Of fancy, reason, virtue, nought can me bereave.

THOMSON.

DAY

36

Day and Night.

DAY AND NIGHT.

WHEN the gay fun first breaks the shades of night,
And streaks the diftant eastern hills with light,
Colour returns, the plains their livery wear,
And a bright verdure clothes the smiling year;
The blooming flowers with opening beauties
glow,

And grazing flocks their milky fleeces show;
The barren cliffs with chalky fronts arise,
And a pure azure arches o'er the skies.
But when the gloomy reign of night returns,
Stript of her fading pride all nature mourns :
The trees no more their wonted verdure boast,
But weep in dewy tears their beauty loft:
No diftant landfcapes draw our curious eyes,
Wrapt in night's robe the whole creation lies,
Yet ftill even now, while darkness clothes the
land,

We view the traces of th' almighty hand;
Millions of ftars in heaven's wide vault appear,
And with new glories hang the boundless fphere:

The

The Tame Stag.

The filver moon her western couch forfakes,
And o'er the skies her nightly circle makes;
Her folid globe beats back the funny rays,
And to the world her borrow'd light repays.

37

GAY.

THE TAME STAG.

As a young ftag the thicket pafs'd,

The branches held his antlers fast,
A clown, who faw the captive hung,
Across his horns the halter flung.
Now fafely hamper'd in the cord,
He bore the present to his lord,
His lord was pleased, as was the clown
When he was tipp'd with half a crown

The flag was brought before his wife: The tender, lady begg'd his life.

How fleek's the skin! how fpeck'd like ermine! Sure never creature was so charming!

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