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POEMS; BY THE REV. G. CRABBE. VOL. II. ONE day he lighter seemed, and they forgot The care, the dread, the anguish of iheir lot; They spoke with cheerfulness, and seemed to think, Yet said not so—“ Perhaps he will not sink.” A sudden brightness in his look appeared, A sudden vigour in his voice was heard ;She had been reading in the Book of Prayer, And led him forth, and placed him in his chair; Lively he seemed, and spoke of all he knew, The friendly many, and the favourite few; Nor one that day did he to mind recall, But she has treasured, and she loves them all : When in her way she meets them, they appear Peculiar people-- Death has made them dear. He named his friends, but then his hands she prest, And fondly whispered—“ Thou must go to rest." “I go,” he said; but as he spoke, she found His hand more cold, and fluttering was the sound! Then gazed affrighted; but she caught a last, A dying look of love, and all was past!
She placed a decent stone his grave above,
Here will she come, and on the grave will sit,
Borough; Church, Letter II, puge 33. No.38.
ELEGIAC STANZAS. -
Unmoved by praises or by blame,
The look of love the voice of fame;
Of joy and hope, of pride and mirth,
My head within my kindred earth.
For what is life to one like me?
Nor sacrifice sincerity?
Where man must tyrannize or bend;
Which only in the grave may end !
J. W. DALBY.
YES! vain is absence, vain are years,
To bid me cease to mourn.
When life and love were new;
Light that from feeling grew.
The guerdon rich I sought :
A heart with rapture fraught!
That haunts me even now,-
And the wrinkles on my brow!
J, W. DALBT.
JOBSON AND THE SQUIRE.
And mow with vigorous sweep the grass :-
Deserves a jovial starting glass.
, pleasing song,
You pushed the ponderous roll along!
Would throb thy wonderous tales to hear,
If but the breeze came rustling near!
The shade of yon Laburnum tree,
I've reigned the monarch of thy knee!
Were far the happiest hours of life :
And scatters bare, and care, and strife.
Whilst í a single doit possess,
Nor find thy little comforts less.
THE BOWER OF LOVE.
Round Love's Elysian bowers
The fairest prospects rise;
There shine the purest skies;
Montgomery. THE mists of the morning still hung on the hill,
And floated o'er woodland and plain :