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BENEATH the beech, whose branches'barų

Smit with the lightning's vivid glare,
O'erhang the craggy'road,
And whiftle hollow as they wave ;

Within a folitary grave,
A wretched Suicide holds his accurs d abode,

Lowr'd the grim morn, in murky dies.
Damp mifs involu'd the scowling Ikiesy

And dimm’d the Aruggling day; :
As by the brook that ling'ring laves

Yon rush-grown moor with fable waves,
Full of the dark refolve he took his fullen waya

I mark'd his desultory pace,
His gestures strange, and yarying faces

With many a mutter'd sounds,
And ah! too late, aghast I view'd

The reeking blade, the hand embrud, He fell, and groaning grasped in agony the grounds

Full many a melancholy night
He watch'd the slow return of light;

TUDI V
And fought the pow'rs of fleep,
To spread a momentary calm

O'er his lad couch, and in the balm
Of bland oblivion's dews his burning eyes to sleep.

Her v7: OD 10! Full oft, unknowing and unknown, bi heyat you He wore his endless noons alone, aus:

Amid th'autumnal wood: 2. MATOT Oft was he wont, in hafty fat, shallow 470

Abrupt the social board to quito y voleli sir And

gaze eager glance upon the tumbling fleod.

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Beck’ning the wretch toʻtormehts new, w 19:1 Despair, for ever in his view, . an den I

A fpectre pale, appeared; While, as the shades of eve arose

And brought the day's unwelcome clofe, More horrible and huge her giant-shape the rear'da

• Is this, " mistaken Scorn will cry,
* Is this the youth, whose genius high
« Could build the genuine rhyme ?

1 “ Whose bofom mild the fav’ring Muse “ Had sor'd with all her ample views Parent of faireft deeds, and purposes sublime ?"

AL!

4

Ah! from the Muse that bofom mild
By treach’rous magic was beguild,

To strike the deathful blow :
She fillid his foft ingenious mind

With many a feeling too refin'd,
And rous'd to livelier pangs his wakeful sense of woc,

Though doom'd hard pénury to prove,
And the sharp stings of hopeless love ;

To griefs congenial prone,
More wounds thạn nature gave he knew,

While Misery's-form his fancy drew
li dark ideal hues, and horrors not its own.

Then wish not o'er his earthly tomb
The baleful nightihade's lurid bloom

To drop its deadly dew:
Nor, oh! forbid the twisted thorn,

That rudely binds his turf forlotn,
With spring's green-swelling buds to vegetate ancora

What though no marble-piled bust
Adorn his desolated duft,

With speaking sculpture wrought ?
Pity shall woơ the weeping Nine

To build a visionary fhrine, Hung with unfading flow'rs, froin fairy regions brought

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What

What though refus'd each chanted rite?
Here viewless mourners shall delight?

To touch the shadowy fhell :
And Petrarch's harp, that wept the doom

Of Laura, loft in early bloomy e'
In melancholy tones shall ring his pengve knell.

To soothe a lone, unhallow'd shade,
This votive dirge fad duty paid,

Within an ivy'd nook :
Sudden the half-funk orb of day

More radiant shot its parting tay,
And thus a cherub-voice my charm'd attention took :

« Forbear, fond bard, thy partial praise ;
“ Nor thus for guilt in fpecious lays

“ The wreath of glory twine:-
* In vain with hues of gorgeous glow

" Gay Fancy gives her veft to flow, # Unless trụth's matron-hand the floating folds confing

« Just Heaven, man's fortitude to prove, 6 Perinits through life at large to rove

66 The tribes of hell-born woe ; *6 Yet the same Pow'r that wisely sends

6 Life's fierceft ills, indulgent lends * Religion's golden shield to break th'embattled foc,

6 Her

* Her aid divine had lullid to reftelse
“ Yon foul felf-murtherer's throbbing breast,

" And stay'd the rising form :
“ Had bade the fun of hope appear

“ To gild the darken'd hemisphere, * And give the wonted bloom to nature's blasted form,

« Vain man ! 'tis heaven's prerogative
6 To take, what firft it deign'd to give,

“ Thy tributary breath :
#6 In awful expectation plac’d,
“ Await thy doom, nor impious haste
To pluck from God's right hand his Instruments of

14 death."

THE INCURIOUS.

.

THRE
HREE years in London Bobadil had been,

Yet not the lions nor the tombs had seen;
I cannot tell the cause without a smile
The rogue had been in Newgate all the while.

ODE

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