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For sunshine's succeeded by rain ;
Then, fearful of life's stormy weather, Lest pleasure should only bring paiu,
Let us all be unhappy together.
I grant, the best blessing we know,
Is a friend—for true friendship’s a treasure ; And yet, lest your friend prove a foe,
Oh! taste not the dangerous pleasure: Thus friendship’s a flimsy affair,
Thus riches and health are a bubble ; Thus there's nothing delightful but care,
Nor any thing pleasing but trouble.
If a mortal would point out that life,
Which, on earth, would be nearest to heaven, Let him, thanking his stars, choose a wife,
To whom truth and honour are given : But honour and truth are so rare,
And horns, when they're cutting, sò tingle, That, with all my respect for the fair,
I'd advise him to sigh and live single,
Il appears, from these premises, plain,
That wisdom is nothing but folly, That pleasure's a term that means pain,
And that joy is your true melancholy: That all those who laugh ought to cry,
That 'tis fine frisk and fun to be grieving, And that since we must all of us die,
We should taste no enjoyment while living.
These walls can but echo my moan,
When I think on the days that are gone.
The birds, as they wanton in air ;
My looks they are wild with despair.
I burn with contempt for my foes;
She ne'er can subdue me to those !
Thy malice detested shall be;
Some heart will feel sorrow for me,
With silence and solitude dwell,
How sad tolls the evening bell!
Hollow winds seem to murinur around,
ON Afric's wide plains, where the lions, loud
Spare a halfpenny! spare a halfpenny!
O spare a halfpenny to a poor Negro.
for bread now,
I tread now,
A SHEPHERD wander'd, we are told,
, To seek the straggler of the fold,
Fal lal la, la ral, la ral, la ra; And passing o'er a fragrant glade,
Descry'd a young and blooining maid, And thus to ber his vows he paid,
Fal lal la, la ral, la ral, la ra.
hill, Which rises o'er the source of Dee, And, from the eastern summit shed
Her silver light on tow'r and tree; When Mary laid her down to sleep,
Her thoughts on Sandy far at sea; Then soft and low a voice was heard
Say, “ Mary, weep no more for me." She from her pillow gently rais'd
Her head, to ask who there might be, And saw young Sandy shiv’ring stand,
With pallid cheek and hollow eye. “O Mary dear, cold is my clay,
It lies beneath a stormy sea;
So, Mary, weep no more for me,
We toss'd upon the raging main ;,
But all our striving was in vain.
My heart was fills with love of thee :
So, Mary, weep no more for me. “ O maiden dear, thyself prepare ;
We soon shall meet upon that shore, Where love is free froni doubt and care,
And thou and I shall part no more. Loud crow'd the cock, the shadow fled;
No more of Sandy could she see; But soft the passing spirit said,
“ Sweet Mary, weep no more for me."