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THE CUCKOO. HAIL, beaut'ous ftranger of the grove !

Thou messenger of spring!
Now heav’n repairs thy rural seat,

And woods tħy welcome sing.
What time the daisy decks the green,

Thy certain voice we hear;
Haft thou a star to guide thy path,

Or mark the rolling year?
Delightful visitant! with thee

I hail the time of flow'rs,
And hear the sound of music sweet

From birds among the bow'rs.
The school-boy, wand'ring through the wood

To pull the primrose gay,
Starts, the new voice of spring to hear,

And imitates thy lay.
What time the pea puts on the bloom,

Thou fly'st thy vocal vale,
An annual guest in other lands,

Another spring to hail.
Sweet bird! thy bow'r is ever green,

Thy sky is ever clear;
Thou haft no forrow in thy song,

NO WINTER in thy year!
O could I fiy, I'd fly with thee!

We'd make, with joyful wing,
Our annual visit o'er the globe,

Companions of the SPRING.

THE RURAL DIALOGUE. MY pretty maids, so blithe and gay,

“With crook and fcrip, whence come you,

pray???

"We come, fir, from the neighb’ring hill, • Close by the fount of this clear rill.

There, in a little tuft of green, « Our father's straw-roof'd cot is seen, • Beneath that dear, tho' narrow, shed, < We, filters all, were born and bred. « Our busʼness is to tend our flocks, • In yonder vale o'erhung with rocks; < When fed, we drive them home at eve; • So now, kind fir! we take our leave.' « O what must be the favour'd place, «« That yields such charms and native grace, “ As rustic weeds no more can fhrowd Than noon-day's sun, an envious cloud ! “ Love's genuine progeny you feem, “ From each fair face such pleasures beam. “ Well might it grieve your beauties rare “ To waste themielves on defert air, “ When courts and cities would delight “ To give them to the public fight! “ But tell me, do you feel content, “ Within these lonely regions pent?" • More true content within us dwells, • While roving in the flow'ry dells, • Than fills the breasts of ladies great, • While dancing in the rooms of state. • No wealth we want, or fine array; • Flow’rs are enough to make us gay.'

THE BITER BIT.

A

Certain PRIEST had hoarded up,

A secret mass of GOLD;
But where he might beftow it safe,

By fancy was not told.
At last, it came into his head,

To lock it in a cheft,
Within the chancel, and he wrote

Thereon, Hic Deus eft.

S

A merry grigg, whofe greedy mind,

Long with'd for such a prey,
Respected not the sacred words,

That on the casket lay.
Took out the GOLD, and blotted out

The PRIEST's inscript thereon,
Wrote, Resurrexit, non efi hic,

" 'Your god is rose and gone.”

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THE TEARS OF AMYNTA. ON a bank, beside a willow,

Heav'n her cov’ring, earth her pillow, Sad AMYNTA figh'd alone: From the cheerless dawn of morning Till the dews of night returning, Sighing thus she made her moan:

Hope is banish'd,

Joys are vanish’d, DAMon, my belov’d, is gone! Time I dare thee to discover Such a youth, and such a lover; Oh! so true, so kind was he! Damon was the pride of nature, Charming in his ev'ry feature; Damon liv'd alone for me;

Melting kiffes,

Murm’ring blisses:
Who fo liv'd and lov'd as we!
Never shall we curse the morning,
Never blefs the night returning,
Sweet embraces to restore:
Never shall we both lie dying,
Nature failing, love supplying
All the joys he drain'd before:

Death, come end me,

To befriend me;
Love and DAMON are no more!

CUPID RELIEVED.
Asonce young cupid went astray,

The little god I found;
I took his bow and shafts away,

And fast his pinions bound.
At chloe's feet my spoils I cast,

My conqueft proud to shew;
She law his godship fetter'd fast,

And smil'd to see him fo.
But ah! that smile such fresh supplies

Of arms resistless gave!
I'm forc'd again to yield the prize,

And fall again his llave.

CUPID AND HIS TUTOR. SLUMB’RING beneath the shade I lay,

Opprest by Sol's meridian ray, When to my eyes, in vision bright, Appear'd the queen of soft delight; Young Cupid in her hand she led, Who bashful hung his little head: “ Here, gentle swain!” the goddess cry'd, “ My boy's maturer studies guide; “ Teach him to strike the founding lyre, “ And love of sacred bards inspire. She said:--with awe I took the child, And, by his modeft looks beguild, Began to read with aspect fage, My lecture on great HOMER's page, Explain’d the THEBAN's devious line, And dwelt on MARO's verse divine. The giddy boy with light regard Run o’er each grave majestic bard, And said he would my pains repay By teaching me his fav’rite lay. Then careless sung of loves and smiles, His wanton pranks, his mother's wiles,

Of mortal and immortal flames,
And all the list of sportive dames.
I bade him ceafe his idle prate :
Yet list'ning still, I found, too late,
I'd quite forgot the TUTOR's part,
But had his nonsense all by heart.

SEPARATION. SWEET beaut’ous fair, tho’ from thee torn,

Do thou inspire my lay:
Depriv'd of thee, loft and forlorn,

I lose the peaceful day.
Forget'st thou when we wander'd o'er,
The sea-beat rocky, seedy, shore,

Or rang’d the woodland wilds along, How oft on MINEHEAD's mountain's high, We've met the morning's purple eye,

Cheer'd by the wood-lark's song? From these delights by fortune led,

To busy life and sea confin’d:
At once each golden pleasure fled,

And HAPPINESS was left behind.
Yet cou'd these eyes once more survey,
Thy lovely form, likę blooming May,

Thy polish'd brow, thy piercing eye,
Where all the charms of earth do dwell,
In village cot, or homely cell,

Sweet maid! with thee I'd live and die, Ah! where is now each image gay,

The hand which fairy-fancy wove, Of painted spring's elysian day,

When mutual happiness we'd prove? Ceafe, cruel mem’ry! recal no more Those scenes which lost, I now deplore;

Thou only mak'st a wretch to know, While from his charming SALLY's fide; Eternal grief and pain betide,

A heart replete with care and woe.

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