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CON T E N T S.
Be thou clad in russet weed,
Life is but a day at most,
As Youth and Love with sprightly dance, feneath thy morning star advance, Pleasure with her firen air May delude the thoughtless pair; Let Prudence bless Enjoyment's cup, Then raptured fip and fip it up.
As thy day grows warm and high,
As thy shades of evening close, Beck’ning thee to long repose ; As life itself becomes difeafe, Seek the chimney-nook of ease. 1 here ruminate with sober thought ; On all thou'st seen, and heard, and wrought ; And teach the fportive younkers round, Saws of experience, sage and found. Say, man's true, genuinc eftimate, The grand criterion of his fate, Is not, art thou high or low ? Did thy fortune ebb or flow?
Did many talents gild thy span?
Thus, resigned and quiet, creep
Stranger, go! Heaven be thy guide! Quoth ihe Beadsman of Nith-fide.