"Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn, Mutt'ring his wayward fancies he would rove ; Now drooping, woful-wan, like one forlorn,

Or crazed with care, or cross'd in hopeless love.

"One morn I miss'd him on th' accustom'd hill, Along the heath, and near his fav'rite tree; Another came; nor yet beside the rill,

Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he:

"The next, with dirges due in sad array,

Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne ; Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay

Grav'd on the stone beneath yon aged thorn."

The Epitaph.

Here rests his head upon the lap of earth
A youth, to fortune and to fame unknown:
Fair Science frown'd not on his humble birth,
And Melancholy mark'd him for her own.

Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere,

Heaven did a recompense as largely send:

He gave to misery (all he had) a tear,

He gain'd from heaven ('twas all he wish'd) a friend.

No farther seek his merits to disclose,

Or draw his frailties from their dread abode,

(There they alike in trembling hope repose,)

The bosom of his Father and his God.

Stanza's

prote

in a

Country Church - Yard

The Curfen tolls the Knell of parting Day,
The lowing Herd wind slowly "er the Lex.
The Plowman homeward plods his
And leaves the Norts to

Darkness &.

weary ray,
&c. to
4/6

me.

on

the Sight,

Now fades the glimmiring, Landscape

And

now.

Save, the

the

solemer Stillness. holds; Save, where the Beetle wheels his Froning Flight, Or dronzy Tinklings lill the distant Sony. that from yonder ivy-mantled Tower The mopeing Onl does to the Moon, complain Of such, as Molest Pho "ancient solitary Reign.

stray

wrading near her secret Bower

that

Beneath those rugged Elms,
Where heaves the surf in many

Yewtree's Shade,

in many a moutring Keap, Well for

for

Each in his narron
Pramut
The rude Forefathers of the theey.

sleep. The breezy call of horn,

Or Swallow twittring from the strawbuilt shad,
Or Chaunticker

shrill echoing, Horn., them from their lowly Bed. search shall buron, more. the blageing Hearth shall burn, or busy Kuswife phy her Evening Care; No Children run to lisp their fire's Return, nor climb his Knees their Sick's gied oft did the harvest to their Sick's Their Furrow oft the stubborn Glabe has worke; Yow jocund did they drive their Team &-field; How bow'd the Woods beneath. their sturdy Stroke:

Let

the

coming

Kifs to share. doubtful.

not Ambition mock their useful Foil homery Their gustic Sous, & Destiny obscure :

disdainful Smile For Grandeur rear with a The short & simple. obmmals of the Poor.