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Written in the fame Year.

By the Same.

OW fleep the brave, who fink to reft;
By all their country's wishes bleft!
When Spring with dewy fingers cold,
Returns to deck their hallow'd mold,
She there shall dress a sweeter fod,.
Than FANCY's feet have ever trod.

By fairy hands their knell is rung,
By forms unfeen their dirge is fung;
There HONOUR comes, a PILGRIM grey,
To bless the turf that wraps their clay,
And FREEDOM fhall awhile repair,
To dwell a weeping HERMIT there!

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By the Same.

Faught of oaten ftop, or paftoral fong,

I May hope, chafte EVE, to footh thy modeft ear,

Like thy own folemn fprings,

Thy springs, and dying gales,

O NYMPH referv'd, while now the bright-hair'd fun,
Sits on yon western tent, whofe cloudy skirts
With brede etherial wove,

O'erhang his wavy bed:

Now air is hush'd, fave where the weak-ey'd bat,
With short fhrill fhrieks flits by on leathern wing,
Or where the beetle winds

His fmall but fullen horn,

As oft he rifes 'midft the twilight path;
Against the pilgrim borne in heedlefs hum.
Now teach me, maid compos'd,

To breathe fome foften'd strain,

Whose numbers stealing through thy dark'ning vale,
May not unfeemly with its ftillness fuit,

As mufing flow, I bail.

Thy genial lov'd return!

For when thy folding ftar arifing fhews
His paly circlet, at his warning lamp
The fragrant Hours, and Elves
Who flept in flow'rs the day,

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And many a Nymph who wreaths her brows with fedge, And sheds the fresh'ning dew, and lovelier ftill,


Prepare thy shadowy car.

Then lead, calm Vot'refs, where fome sheety lake
Cheers the lone heath, or fome time-hallow'd pile,
Or up-land fallows grey

Reflect its 1 aftcool gleam.

But when chill bluft'ring winds, or driving rain,
Forbid my willing feet, be mine the hut,
That from the mountain's fide,

Views wilds, and fwelling floods,

And hamlets brown, and dim-discover'd spires,
And hears their fimple bell, and marks o'er alt
Thy dewy fingers draw

The gradual dusky veil.

While Spring shall pour his fhow'rs, as oft he wont,
And bathe thy breathing treffes, meekeft Evel
While Summer loves to fport

Beneath thy lingʻring light;

While fallow Autumn fills thy lap with leaves y
Or Winter yelling through the trdablous zir
Affrights thy fhrinking train,

And rudely reads thy robes;

So long, fure-found beneath the Sylvan fhed,
Thy gentleft influence own,

And hymn thy fav'rite name!

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ADVICE to a Lady in AUTUMN.

By the Earl of CHESTERFIELD 2.

SSES milk, half a pint, take at feven, or before,


Then fleep for an hour or two, and no more.

At nine ftretch your arms, and oh! think when alone,
There's no pleasure in bed.-MARY, bring me my gown;
Slip on that ere you rife; let your caution be fuch :
Keep all cold from your breast, there's already too much;
Your pinners fet right, your twitcher ty'd on,

Your prayers at an end, and your breakfast quite done;
Retire to fome author, improving and gay,

And with fenfe like your own, fet your mind for the day.
At twelve you may walk, for at this time o' the year,
The fun, like your wit, is as mild as 'tis clear:

a Philip Dormer Stanhope, Earl of Chesterfield, was born September 22d, 1694; fucceeded to the title 27th of January 1725-6; and was elected Knight of the Garter 18th of May 1730. Soon after he was made Steward of his Majefty's household, and Ambaffador Extraordimary and Plenipotentiary to the States General. In 1745 he was appointed Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, and in 1746 Secretary of State; he refigned this poft, after holding it about a year, and retired from all public bufinefs. He died March 23, 1773.

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