"alone. Since he is paft running down the "fox in the field, he must e'en be allowed to "hunt him in the parlour." I N° 85! N° 85. TUESDAY, February 29. 1780. Poffum oblivifci qui fuerim? Non fentire qui fim? Quo caream honore? Qua gloria? Quibus liberis? Quibus fortunis ? A CIC. ad ATT. PERIODICAL publication, fuch as the MIRROR, is, from its nature, confined chiefly to profe compofitions. My illuftrious predeceffor, the SPECTATOR, has, however, fometimes inferted a little poem among his other effays; and his example has been imitated by moft of his fucceffors. Perhaps it may be from this caufe, that, among the variety of communications I have lately received, many of them confift of poetical compofitions. I must observe in general to these correfpondents, that, though the infertion of a poem now and then may not be altogether improper for a work of this kind, yet it is not every poetical compofition that is fit for it. A poem may be poffeffed of very confiderable: merit, and may be intitled to applaufe, when published in a poetical collection, though, H 3 from from its fubject, its length, or the manner in which it is written, it may not be fuited to the MIRROR. I hope my poetical correfpondents, therefore, will receive this as an apology for their poems not being inferted, and will by no means confider their exclufion as proceeding from their being thought deftitute of merit. Among the poetical prefents I have received, there is, however, one, which feems very well fuited to a work of this kind. The gentleman from whom I received it fays, he has been informed, that it was founded on the following infcription (probably written from real feeling) on the window of an inn fituated in the Highlands of Scotland. "Of all the ills unhappy mortals know, "A life of wandering is the greatest wo; "On all their weary ways wait Care and Pain, "And Pine and Penury, a meagre train;"A wretched Exile to his country fend, Long worn with griefs, and long without a "friend !" This poem contains a defcription of the fi tuation of a Scotch gentleman who had been obliged to leave his country for rebellion against It gainft our present happy government. points out the fatal confequences of fuch treafonable attempts, and reprefents the distress of the perfon defcribed, in a very interesting and pathetic manner. S THE EXILE. AN ELEGY. WHERE, 'midst the ruins of a fallen state, The once fam'd Tiber rolls his fcanty wave, Where half a column now derides the great,. Where half a statue yet records the brave; With trembling steps an Exile wander'd near, In Scottish weeds his fhrivel'd limbs array'd; His furrow'd cheek was crofs'd with many a tear, And frequent fighs his wounded foul be tray'd. Oh! Wretch ! he cry'd, that like fome trou bled ghost Art doom'd to wander round this world of wo, While memory fpeaks of joys for ever loft, know! Thefe Thefe are the fcenes, with fancy'd charms endow'd, Where happier Britons, cafting pearls away, The fools of found, of empty trifles proud, Far from the land of bliss and freedom stray. Wou'd that, for yonder dome, these eyes. could fee The wither'd oak that crowns my native hill! Thefe urns let ruin waste; but give to me The tuft that trembles o'er its lonely rill. Oh! facred haunts! and is the hillock green That faw our infant-fports beguile the day? Still are our feats of fairy fashion feen? Or is my little throne of mofs away? Had but Ambition, in this tortur'd breast, Ne'er fought to rule beyond the humble plain, Where mild Dependence holds the vaffal bleft, Where faith and friendship fix the chieftain's reign; Thus had I liv'd the life my fathers led; Their name, their family, had not ceas'd to be; And thou, Monimia! on thy earthy bed!— My name, my family, what were these to thee! Three |