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A Dorthe kirk was condemnd to the tool of repentance.

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Mess John to his conscience his vices put home,
And his danger in this, and the world that's to come.
Thou reprobate mortal; why, doft not thou know
Whither, after your death, all you drunkards must go ?
Must go when we're dead? why Sir, you may swear,
We shall go, one and all, where we find the best beer.


By the Same.

Cannon ball, one bloody day,
Took à poor

failor's leg away;
And, as on 'lis comrade's back he made off,
A second fairly took his head off.
The fellow, on this odd emergence,
Carries him pick-back to the surgeons.

Z-ds! cries the Doctor, are you drunk,
To bring me here an headless trunk?

A lying dog! cries Jack, he faid
His leg was off, and not his head,


A Frag.

A Fragment of CHAUCER.

By J. H. Efq;
IGHT wele of lerned clerkis is it sed,

RChat wonenhud for mannis

' ufe is made;

But naughty man likech not one, or so,
He lufteth aye unthirftily for mo;
And whom he whilome cherished, when tied
By holy church he cannot her abide.
Like unto dog which lighteth of a bone,
His tail he waggeth, glad therefore y-grown,
But thilke fame bone if to his tail thou tye,
Pardie, he fearing it away doth fly.

Upon an ALCOVE, now at Parson's Green.

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Favorite Muse of SHENSTONE hear!

And leave awhile his blissful groves;
Aid me this sweet alcove to fing,

The Author's seat whom SHENŞTone loves.

Here the soul-harr'wing genius form'd

His PAMELA's enchanting story!
And here divine CLARISSA died

A martyr to our fex's glory!


"Twas here the noble-minded Howe

With ev'ry gen'rous passion glow'd: And here the gentle Belford's eyes

With manly forrows overflow'd.

Here Clementina, hapless maid !

With wild distress each bosom tears : And here the lovely Harriet own'd

A virgin's hopes, a virgin's fears,

Here Emily, sweet artless girl,

Fills ev'ry breast with strange delight! And when we fear her early fall,

Secures her conquest by her flight,

Here sprightly Charlotte's hum'rous wit

Dispenses mirth to all around : But, ah ! we tremble, whilst we smile,

Lelt its fine edge herself should wound.

Here GRANDISON, to crown the whole,

A bright exemplar stands confeft! Who stole those virtues we admire

From the great Author's glowing breast.

O sacred seat! be thou rever'd

By such as own thy master's pow'r ; And, like his works, for ages last,

Till fame and language are no more,



ETWEEN the smooth descent of yonder hills,

Deep in the vale with tufted trees beset;
Whose antique roots are wafh'd with brawling rills,
Whose leafy arms the summer's


defeat, There stands a country parson's calm retreat.

View well the filent shade with sober eye, And wonder at the courtier's swollen luxury:

See to his garden's pale where close ally'd

A decent church the neighbouring glebé commands ;
Whose steeple's stock'd with bells, (the country's pride)

Whofe beams are wreath'd about with virgin bands,
Wove on the bridal day by virgin hands.

The furplice clean, and chancel newly whited,
That with the good man's neatness all must be delighted.

His house stands near, (this church's younger brother)

Whofe furniture fhews housewifely, and neat;
A little garden runs from one to ť other,

Stately in use, excluding useless state,
In which a yew tree stands of ancient date :

And near it rosemary climbs up the wall;
Or else imperfect were the rites of funeral.

IV. Him,

Him liveth near in gentle neighbourhood

An heartfome friend, replete with bounteous love,
Whofe generous wine long time hath corked stood,

(Not to avoid the taste but to improve ;)
With him the good man's moments foftly move :

Nor yet compleat, if I shou'd leave untold
The dame who of his joys sweet partnership doth hold.

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Well knows the when to govern, when obey,

Vers'd in the rights and laws of womanhood ;
Nor hath she too much wisdom to be gay,

Nor hath fhe so much wit to be o'er-loud :
Nor hath fhe fo much beauty to be proud ;

But cheerful sense and decent mirth impart
The sweet domestic joys of a well-natur'd heart.

Eight years hath heav'n possess'd them of a boy,

Who loves a fifter younger by a year ;
And as they prank about, with filent joy

They fit and smile upon the prattling pair, (Who two sweet roses on one stalk appear)

And think upon themselves once fair and young, Before soft Cupid's golden bow became un trung.

VII. Each

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