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Now, by the Pow'rs o' Verse and Profe! Thou art a dainty chield, O Grose! Whae'er o’thee shall ill suppose,

They sair misca’ thee; I'd take the rascal by the nose,

Wad say, Shame fa’ thee.



Miss C*********, a very young Lady.

Written on the blank leaf of a Book, presented

to her by the Author.

BEAUTEOUS rose-bud, young


Blooming on thy early May,
Never may'st thou, lovely Flow'r,
Chilly shrink in fleety show'r !
Never Boreas' hoary path,
Never Eurus' pois'nous breath,
Never baleful stellar lights,
Taint thee with untimely blights !

Never, never reptile thief
Riot on thy virgin leaf!
Nor even Sol too fiercely view
Thy bosom blushing still with dew!

Mayst thou long, sweet crimson gem,
Richly deck thy native stem ;
Till fome ev’ning, fober, calm,
Dropping dews, and breathing balm,
While all around the woodland rings,
And ev'ry bird thy requiem fings ;
Thou, amid the dirgeful sound,
Shed thy dying honours round,
And resign to Parent Earth
The loveliest form the e'er gave birth.

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ANNA, thy charms my bofom fire,

And waste my soul with care; But ah! how bootless to admire,

When fated to despair !

Yet in thy presence, lovely Fair,

To hope may be forgiv'n;
For sure 'twere impious to despair

So much in light of Heav'n.

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On reading, in a NEWSPAPER, the DEATH

of J—M'L---, Esq. BROTHER to a YOUNG LADY, a particular FRIEND of the AUTHOR's.

SAD thy tale, thou idle page,

And rueful thy alarms :
Death tears the brother of her love

From Isabella's arms.

Sweetly deckt with pearly dew

The morning rose may blow; But cold successive noontide blasts

May lay its beauties low.

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