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The poplars are felld, and adieu to the shade, And the whispering found of the cool colonnade; The winds play no longer, and sing in their leaves, Nor the Ouse, on its surface, their image receives,

Twelve years had elaps'd fince I last took a view Of my favourite field, and the place where they

grew; When, behold, on their fides, in the grass they were

laid, And I sate on the trees under which I had stray'd.

The blackbird has sought out another retreat, Where the hazels afford him a screen from the heat; And the scene where his notes have oft charm'd me

before, Shall resound with his smooth-flowing ditty no


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My fugitive years are all hasting away,
And I must myself lie as lowly as they,
With a turf at my breast, and a stone at my head,
Ere another such


in its stead.

rises up

The change both my heart and my fancy employs;
I reflect on the frailty of man and his joys;
Short-liv'd as we are, yet our pleasures, we see,
Have a still shorter date, and die sooner than we.






--Placidiq; ibi demum morte quievit.
Then calm at length he breath'd his soul away.

“ On most delightful hour by man

“ Experienc'd here below; " The hour that terminates his fpan,

“ His folly and his woe.

-- Worlds should not bribe me back to tread

“Again life's dreary waste;
To see my days again o'erspread

“ With all the gloomy past.

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My home, henceforth, is in the skies,

“ Earth, seas, and sun adieu ;
« All heaven unfolded to my eyes,

“ I have no fight for you.”

Thus fpake Afpatio, firm poflest

Of faith's supporting rod;
Then breath'd his soul into its rest,

The bosom of his God.

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He was a man among the few

Sincere on Virtue's side,
And all his strength from scripture drew,

To hourly use apply'd.

That rule he priz’d, by that he fear’d,

He hated, hop'd, and lov'd,
Nor ever frown'd, or fad appear'd,

But when his heart had rov'd.

For he was frail as thou or I,

And evil felt within,
But when he felt it, heav'd a figh,

And loath'd the thought of fin.

Such liv'd Afpatio, and at last,


from earth to heav'n, The gulph of death triumphant pass'd,

By gales of blefling driven,

His joys be mine, each reader cries,


last hour arrives : They shall be yours, my verse replies, Such only be your


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John Gilpin was a citizen

Of credit and renown,
A train-band captain eke was he

of famous London town.

John Gilpin's spouse faid to her dear-

Though wedded we have been These twice ten tedious years, yet we

No holiday have seen.

To-morrow is our wedding-day,

And we will then repair Unto the Bell at Edmonton

All in a chaise and pair.

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