Hath not your God imprefsively made known
His sovereign will brilding your bosoms swelt
Wim the salubriores flerek, ichen alene ,
Ufour beauteous offopreng, reeds their milky streams.

Lage 26_Line 17

WITH

OTHER POEMS.

By HENRY SMITHERS,

OF THE ADELPHI.

Though my distracted senses should forsake me,
I'd find some intervals when my poor heart
Should 'swage itself, and be let loose to thine.
Though the bare earth be all our resting place,
Its roots our food, some clift our habitation,
I'll make this arm a pillow for thine head,
And as thou sighing liest, and swellid with sorrow,
Creep to thy bosom, pour the balm of love
Into thy soul, and kiss thee to thy rest;
Then praise our God, and watch thee till the morning.

OTWAY.

LONDON:

PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR,

By T. Bensley, Bolt Court;

AND SOLD BY WILLIAM MILLER, ALBEMARLE STREET;

AND Mess, ARCH, CORNHILL.

1807.

18453.37
1841 3, 32,200

HARVARD COLLEGE LIBRARY

! THE BEQUEST OF EVERT JANSEN WENDELE

1918