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His cheeks, where love with beauty glowed,

A deadly pale o'ercast;

So fades the fresh rose in its prime,

Before the northern blast.

The parents now, with late remorse,

Hung o'er his dying bed;

And wearied Heaven with fruitless prayers, And fruitless sorrows shed.


""Tis past," he cried, "but if your souls

Sweet mercy yet can move,

Let these dim eyes once more behold
What they must ever love."

She came; his cold hand softly touched,
And bathed with many a tear;
Fast-falling o'er the primrose pale,
So morning dews appear.

But oh! his sister's jealous care

(A cruel sister she !)

Forbade what Emma came to say,

"My Edwin, live for me."

Now homeward as she hopeless went,

The churchyard path along,

The blast blew cold, the dark owl screamed Her lover's funeral song.

Amid the falling gloom of night,

Her startling fancy found
In every bush his hovering shade,
His groan in every sound.

Alone, appalled, thus had she passed

The visionary vale

When lo! the deathbell smote her ear,

Sad sounding in the gale!

Just then she reached, with trembling steps,

Her aged mother's door:

"He's gone!" she cried, "and I shall see
That angel face no more.

I feel, I feel this breaking heart

Beat high against my side!”

From her white arm down sunk her head,
She shivered, sighed, and died.



BE wise to-day; 'tis madness to defer :
Next day the fatal precedent will plead ;
Thus on, till wisdom is pushed out of life.
Procrastination is the thief of time;
Year after year it steals, till all are fled,
And to the mercies of a moment leaves
The vast concerns of an eternal scene.

Of man's miraculous mistakes this bears
The palm, “ That all men are about to live,"
For ever on the brink of being born.
All pay themselves the compliment to think,
They one day shall not drivel; and their pride
On this reversion takes up ready praise:
At least their own; their future selves applaud :
How excellent that life they ne'er will lead !
Time lodged in their own hands is Folly's vails;
That lodged in Fate's to wisdom they consign;
The thing they can't but purpose, they postpone,
"Tis not in folly not to scorn a fool,

And scarce in human wisdom to do more.

All promise is poor dilatory man,

And that through every stage. When young, indeed,
In full content we sometimes nobly rest,
Unanxious for ourselves, and only wish,

As duteous sons, our fathers were more wise.
At thirty man suspects himself a fool;
Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan;
At fifty chides his infamous delay,
Pushes his prudent purpose to resolve ;
In all the magnanimity of thought
Resolves, and re-resolves; then dies the same.

And why? Because he thinks himself immortal.
All men think all men mortal but themselves;
Themselves, when some alarming shock of fate
Strikes through their wounded hearts the sudden dread;
But their hearts wounded, like the wounded air,
Soon close; where passed the shaft no trace is found,
As from the wing no scar the sky retains,
The parted wave no furrow from the keel,

So dies in human hearts the thought of death.
Even with the tender tear which nature sheds
O'er those we love, we drop it in their grave.



OFT has it been my lot to mark
A proud, conceited, talking spark,
With eyes that hardly served at most
To guard their master 'gainst a post;
Yet round the world the blade has been,
To see whatever could be seen.
Returning from his finished tour,
Grown ten times perter than before;

Whatever word you chance to drop,
The travelled fool your mouth will stop:
"Sir, if my judgment you'll allow-

I've seen

and sure I ought to know"So begs you'd pay a due submission, And acquiesce in his decision.

Two travellers of such a cast,
As o'er Arabia's wilds they passed,
And on their way, in friendly chat,
Now talked of this, and then of that;
Discoursed awhile, 'mongst other matter,
Of the Chameleon's form and nature.
"A stranger animal," cries one,
"Sure never lived beneath the sun :
A lizard's body lean and long,
A fish's head, a serpent's tongue,
Its tooth with triple claw disjoined;
And what a length of tail behind!
How slow its pace! and then its hue-
Who ever saw so fine a blue ?"


"Hold there!" the other quick replies, "'Tis green-I saw it with these eyes, As late with open mouth it lay, And warmed it in the sunny ray; Stretched at its ease the beast I viewed, And saw it eat the air for food." "I've seen it, sir, as well as you, And must again affirm it blue; At leisure I the beast surveyed, Extended in the cooling shade."

"'Tis green! 'tis green, sir, I assure ye." "Green!" cries the other, in a fury:

Why, sir, d'ye think I've lost my eyes?"

""Twere no great loss," the friend replies;

"For if they always serve you thus,

You'll find them but of little use."

So high at last the contest rose,
From words they almost came to blows:
When luckily came by a third;

To him the question they referred ;
And begged he'd tell them, if he knew,
Whether the thing was green or blue.
66 Sirs," cries the umpire,

cease your pother-
The creature's neither one nor t'other.
I caught the animal last night,
And viewed it o'er by candlelight :
I marked it well-'twas black as jet-
You stare-but, sirs, I've got it yet,
And can produce it."- Pray, sir, do;
I'll lay my life the thing is blue."

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"And I'll be sworn, that, when you've seen The reptile, you'll pronounce him green."

"Well, then, at once to ease the doubt," Replies the man, "I'll turn him out: "And when before your eyes I've set him, you don't find him black, I'll eat him."


He said; then full before their sight

Produced the beast, and lo!-'twas white. Both stared, the man looked wondrous wise"My children," the Chameleon cries,

(Then first the creature found a tongue,)

"You all are right, and all are wrong:

When next you talk of what you view,
Think others see as well as you :
Nor wonder, if you find that none
Prefers your eyesight to his own."

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