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Round Royal mis'ry wav'd his Guardian wing,

And snatch'd from chains and fate a trembling.

King;

Bade mournful EGYPT 'midst her bondage smile,
And gave another Wonder to the NILE;
Disdains the servile arts that MEANNESS tries,
To mount a flimsy bubble to the skies!

Lodg'd in the bosom of his fav'rite shade,

How should a venal wish his heart invade,

Where FRIENDSHIP, MIRTH, the clouds of CARE defy,

And heartfelt pleasure beams from ev'ry eye;

Nay, more the happy mansion to illume,

Where GENIUS sparkles, and the GRACES bloom?

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Whom all our youth behold with rapt'rous Whose heart eclipseth e'en thy beauty's sheen, Read PETRARCH's sorrows, and with tears approve :

A tear from thee, surpassing all his fame,
Embalms with immortality his name.

At PETRARCH's fate the heart with grief mote

glow,

Who frequent woo'd the Fair, but woo'd in vain: Thy turtle eyen in streames will certes flow

At sorrows, that for peerless LAURA plain, When pale entomb'd her lovely limbs were laid,

And redbreasts sooth'd with ditties sweet her shade.

Rash bard! What folly taught thine eyen to gaze

On HER, who ne'er could bless thy longing arms? What dæmon urg'd thee midst her beauty's blaze, Bereft of smallest hope to win her charms? Well did thine heart deserve sic mickle woes, That lost in wild romaunce its dear repose.

Yet, PETRARCH! like thyself, a BARD betray'd By smiles of Beauty, Wisdom's voice I slight; Hopeless I glote upon as fair a maid

As ever charm'd the golden eye of light.

Then let me blame no more thy lovelorn line, Perchaunce THY LAURA mote compare with

MINE!

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FRIENDSHIP, like love, is but a name,

Unless to one you stint the flame.

The child, whom many fathers share,
Hath seldom known a father's care.

"Tis thus in friendships; who depend
On many, rarely find a friend.

A Hare who, in a civil way, Comply'd with every thing, like GAY, Was known by all the bestial train

Who haunt the wood, or graze the plain;

Her care was never to offend;

And every creature was her friend.

As forth she went at early dawn,

To taste the dew-besprinkled lawn,

II

Behind she hears the hunter's cries,

And from the deep-mouth'd thunder flies.
She starts, she stops, she pants for breath;
She hears the near advance of death;
She doubles, to mislead the hound,
And measures back her mazy round;
Till, fainting in the public way,
Half-dead with fear she gasping lay.

What transport in her bosom grew,

When first the Horse appear'd in view!

"Let me," says she," your back ascend,

And owe my safety to a friend.

You know my feet betray my flight:

To friendship every burden's light."

The Horse reply'd, "Poor honest Puss, It grieves my heart to see thee thus: Be comforted, relief is near,

For all your friends are in the rear."

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