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But ah, why trifle thus with love,
A certain fate that all must prove ?
Dipp'd in the cup of tears and bliss,
Love's subtle arrows.never miss,
The best defended feel their smart;
E'en he who laughs life's cares away
May only blast a later day.
Perhaps ere now some thoughtless fair
But opes her eyes to give despair.

W.

Jan'y, 1780.

BARRELL TO HASKELL.

Boston, Sunday, Decr. 10th, 1786. Haskell, t'is Sunday; that you know And that we're buried up in Snow; But I've a bottle left, of Wine Of purest kind : if you will join Our social circle round the fire.

'T will be the height of Sam's desire
And Hetty too, and Martha will
With your friend Jo., (all sitting still)
Throw Blair, the Sermonizer by
To give you welcome heartily :

I've got a pair of birds to roast
And after supper for a toast
The Beggar's Benison, I'll give
And while it lasts, wish you may live.

J. B.

THE ANSWER BY ROYAL FLINT.

Had you no roasted birds nor wine;
I'd still your happy circle join,
And while around the fire we sit;
We'll give up Blair's for Hetty's wit.

But if your wine you make me taste,
'T will prove you wish my life to last.
For climbing o'er highs banks of Snow,
Fatigues a Man, as you must know.

When suppers done & toasts are drank,
Your hospitality I'll thank,
And sometime after old South rings
I'll beat through Lanes, till I find Wings.

* Wings—a Lane so-call'd where Flint & Haskell Lodge.

An ODE, TO HIS EXCELLENCY

GENR'L WASHINGTON.

To Washington, who greatly brave,
Resolv'd his native land to save,

Or perish in the cause :
To Washington, what praise belongs !
What marble busts! what grateful songs !

What tributes of applause !

At freedom's call, the Hero rose,
Left each dear scene, and fought our focs,

And braved their fiercest rage :
While they (for us a scourge design'd)
Within their walls inglorious pin'd

Nor dar'd with him engage.

His martial skill our legions form’d,
His glorious zeal their bosoms warm’d

And fann'd the rising flame,
Like Fabius, he by wise delay,
Forc'd Britain's bands to waste away,

Then bade them fly with shame.

His vengeance struck them with dismay,
His thunders broke their firm away,

And wither'd all the host.
Why felt thy chiefs unusual dread ?
Where were thy sons, O! Britain, fled

To what ill fated coast ?

But now the cannon's thundering roar,
Begins to echo round the shore,

And call our youths from far;
Oh ! now may he, with glory crown's,
While guardian Angels shield him round,

Triumphant guide the war.
At last (for so the fates decreed)
These climes by him from slav'ry freed,

And ev'ry wrong redrest.
While grateful myriads hail his name,
May he, bright heir of deathless fame,

Long live supremely blest.

W.

ODE TO THE LADIES.

How shall the raptured heart, ye fair,

Declare the bliss it feels ? The balm to soften every care

Which mutual love reveals ? When prudence joins the gentle tie,

In vain will sorrow prove,
· And every spark of grief will fly,

Before the breath of Love.
The Rake with fancied wit may rail

At joys he cannot taste !
But mutual love can never fail-

With life, its bliss doth last :
When e'er the hours of fondness close

Your gen'rous partner find,
And seek (tho, worldly views oppose)
The Union of the mind.

S. B. W.

Jos. Barrell to Major E. Haskell.
THE DISAPPOINTMENT, OR THE MAJOR ASLEEP.
There was a Major, once I heard,

Who lay upon his bed,
Depending on a damn'd black Boy

To wake him from the dead.
The Major slept, nor boy awoke,

But Day arose supreme,
And when the Major op'd his eyes,

He thought it was a dream.
The Hartford stage, and Jack, the son,

Were waiting for my Lord,
Beyond the time by law allow'd

For Major of the Sword.
Off drives the stage, the Major came,

Now open'd both his eyes,
And when on soldiers' fame he thought

It filled him with surprise.
What will be said ? the Major cries,

Where will the blame descend,
The public injured, ah, and more,

I disappoint my friend.
On Monday next, alive or dead,

I swear I'll be in time,
Nor will I trust myself in bed,

Or drink one glass of wine.
Feb. 14th, 1788.

FOR TIIE FOURTH OF JULY, 1786.
Welcome brother, each brave brother,

Souls who nobly scorn to yield,
Friendship binds us to each other,

Friendship formed in hostile field.

CHORUS-Hail, Cincinnatus, great in arms,

Thy sons revere thy name
To them, like thee, sweet peace hath

charms,

When conquest crowns their fame.
Tyrants ! here behold the foes

Can make your armies flee,
No more your slavish plans propose,

Columbia now is free.
C10.-Hail, Cincinnatus, &c., &c.

To freedom sacred be this day,

In each revolving year,
And we'll our grateful homage pay,

With hearts devoid of fear.

CH0.—Hail, Cincinnatus, &c., &c.

S. B. W.

List of names invited to a turtle feast at Wethersfield, August

26th, 1779.

WETHERSFIELD, August 24th, 1779. A Club dinner is proposed to be given at Samuel Stillman's house, on Thursday, at two o'clock, on turtle, when the following gentlemen's company is desired.

ELIZUR GOODRICH,
ASHBEL RILEY,

S. B. WEBB.
Captain John Charwood, Hartford.
Mr. James Shank,

do
Mr. John Bigelow,
Captain James Watson, do
Colonel Hez. Wyllys,

do
Colonel John Broome,

do Mr. Nehemiah Hubbard, do

do

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