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There, at the foot of yonder nodding beach,

That wreacho ito old fantastis roots so high, His listlefe lungth

at noon-wide would he trench And pore upon the brook that bubbles ly.

Publifbed Sept.28.1796. by Verner&Hood.

On, fome fond breaft the parting soul relies,
Some pious drops the clofing eye requires ;
E'en from the tomb the voice of Nature cries,
E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires.

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For thee who, mindful of th' unhonour'd dead,
Dost in these lines their artless tales relate;
If chance, by lonely contemplation led,
Some kindred spirit should inquire thy fate:

Haply some hoary-headed swain may fay, “ Oft have we seen him, at the peep

of dawn, Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, “ To meet the sun upon the upland lawn.

There, at the foot of yonder nodding beach, “ That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, “ His listless length at noon-tide would he stretch, “ And pore upon the brook that bubbles by.

“ Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in fcorn,
“ Mutt'ring his wayward fancies, he would rove;
“Now drooping woful wan, like one forlorn,
“ Or craz'd with care, or cross’d in hopeless love,

“ One morn I miss’d him on the 'custom'd hill,
Along the heath, and near his fav'rite tree:
Another came; nor yet beside the rill,
« Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he.

• The next, with dirges due, in fad array,
“ Slow thro' the churchway path we saw him borne.

Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay “ Gravid on the stone beneath yon aged thorn."

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Here rests his head upon the lap of earth,
A youth, to fortune and to fame unknown;
Fair science frown'd not on his humble birth,
And melancholy mark'd him for her own,

Large was his bounty, and his soul fincere,
Heaven did a recompense as largely send;
He gave to misery all he had, a tear;
He gain'd from Heaven ('twas all he wish'd) a friend.

No further seek his merits to disclose,
Or draw his frailties from their dread abode,
(There they alike in trembling hope repose)
The bosom of his Father and his God,


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