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Some silent laws our hearts may make,
Which they shall long obey :
We for the year to come may take
Our temper from to-day,

And from the blessed power that rolls
About, below, above,
We'll frame the measure of our souls :
They shall be tuned to love.

Then come, my sister ! come, I

pray, With speed put on your woodland dress ; -And bring no book : for this one day We'll give to idleness.

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THE

FEMALE VAGRANT.

My Father was a good and pious man,
An honest man by honest parents bred ;
And I believe, that, soon as I began
To lisp, he made me kneel beside my bed,
And in his hearing there my prayers I said :
And, afterwards, by my good Father taught,
I read, and loved the books in which I read;
For books in every neighbouring house I sought,
And nothing to my mind a sweeter pleasure brought.

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