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The Beggar's Petition.

93

THE BEGGAR'S PETITION. ,

Pity the sorrows of a poor old man,
Whose trembling limbs have borne him to your

door; Whose days are dwindled to the shortest spanO give relief! and Heaven will bless your store.

These tatter'd clothes my poverty bespeak,
These hoary locks proclaim my lengthen’d years ;
And many a furrow in my grief-worn cheek
Has been the channel to a flood of tears.

Yon house, erected on the rising ground,
With tempting aspect drew me from my road;
For plenty there a residence has found,
And grandeur a magnificent abode.

Hard is the fate of the infirm and poor.
Here, as I cray'd a morsel of their bread,
A pamper'd menial drove me from the door
To seek a shelter in a humbler shed.

O take 94

The Dying Negro.
O take me to your hospitable home!
Keen blows the wind, and piercing is the cold:
Short is my passage to the friendly tomb,
For I am poor, and miserably old.

Pity the sorrows of a poor old man,
Whose trembling limbs have borne him to your

door ;

Whose days are dwindled to the shortest fpan-
O give relief! and Heaven will bless your store.

THE DYING NEGRO. O’Er my toil-wither'd limbs sickly languors are

shed, And the dark mists of death on my eyelids are

spread; Before my last sufferings how gladly I bend! · For the strong arm of death is the arm of a friend.

Against the hot breezes hard struggles my breast, Slow, slow beats my heart, and I hasten to rest; No more shall sharp anguish my faint bosom rend, For the strong arm of death is the arm of a friend.

No The Beau Disconcerted. 95 No more shall I sink in the deep scorching air, No more shall keen hunger my weak body tear; No more on my limbs shall swift lafhes descend, For the strong arm of death is the arm of a friend.

Ye ruffians ! who tore me from all I held dear, Who mock'd at my wailings and smild at my

tear, Now, now thall I 'scape, every suffering shall end, For the strong arm of death is the arm of a friend.

THE BEAU DISCONCERTED,

I've seen a beau, in some ill-fated hour,
When o'er the stones chok'd kennels swell the

shower,
In gilded chariot loll. He with disdain
Views Ipatter'd passengers all drench'd in rain.
With mud fill'd high the rumbling cart draws

near :Now rule thy prancing steeds, lac'd charioteer !

The dustman lashes on with spiteful rage,
His ponderous fpokes thy painted wheel engage.

Crush'd

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Crush'd is thy pride, down falls the shrieking

beau, The flabby pavement crystal fragments strow; Black floods of mire the splendid dress disgrace, And mud enwraps the honours of his face.

GAY,

EXERCISE.

Let floth lie soft'ning till high noon in down,
Or lolling fan her in the sultry town;
I mount the courser, call the deep-mouth'd hounds,
The fox unkennel'd lies to covert grounds;
I lead where stags through tangled thickets tread,
And shake the saplings with their branching
" : head;
I make the falcons wing their airy way,
And soar to seize or stooping strike their prey;
To snare the fish I fix the luring bait;
To wound the fowl I load the gun with fate.
'T is thus through change of exercise I range,
And strength and pleasure rise from every change.

PARNEL.

To a Robin Redbreast.

97

TO A ROBIN REDBREAST.

LITTLE bird with bosom red,
Welcome to my humble shed;
Courtly domes of high degree
Have no room for thee and me:
Pride and pleasure's fickle throng
Nothing mind an idle song.
Daily near my table steal
While I pick my scanty meal;
Doubt not, little though there be,
But I 'll cast a crumb to thee;
Well rewarded if I spy
Pleasure in thy glancing eye,
See thee when thou 'st eat thy fill,
Plume thy breast, and wipe thy bill.
Come, my feather'd friend, again,
Well thou know'st the broken pane ;
Ask of me thy daily store;
Go not near Avaro's door:
Once within his iron hall,
Wpful end shall thee befall.

Savage!

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