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HORACE, ODE XL. LIB. I.
A sad-ey'd mourner at his tomb,
Thou, Friendship! pay thy rites divine, And echo thro' the midnight gloom That Strephon's early fall was thine.
ODE XI. LIB. I.
NE'ER fash your thumb what gods decree
To be the weird o' you or me.
Nor deal in cantrip's kittle cunning
To spier how fast your days are running;
But patient lippen for the best,
Nor be in dowy thought opprest,
Whether we see mair winters come
Than this that spits wi' canker'd foam.
THE AUTHOR's life.
Now moisten weel your geyzen'd wa's Wi' couthy friends and hearty blaws; Ne'er let your hope o'ergang your days, For eild and thraldom never stays; The day looks gash, toot aff your horn, Nor care yae strae about the morn.
My life is like the flowing stream
That glides where summer's beauties teem,
Meets all the riches of the gale
That on its watry bosom sail,
And wanders 'midst Elysian groves
May I when drooping days decline, And 'gainst those genial streams combine, The winter's sad decay forsake,
And centre in my parent lake..
SINCE brightest beauty soon must fade,
That in life's spring so long has roll'd,
Ye virgins, seize the fleeting hour,
On a Lawyer's desiring one of the Tribe to look with respect to a Gibbet.
THE Lawyers may revere that tree
Where thieves so oft have strung,
Since, by the Law's most wise decree,
OF GOING TO SEA.
FORTUNE and BOB, e'er since his birth,
Could never yet agree;
She fairly kick'd him from the earth,
Written Extempore, at the desire of a gentleman who was rather ill-favoured, but who had a beautiful Family of Children.
SC-TT and his children emblems are
Of real good and evil ;
His children are like cherubims,
But Scott is like the devil.
VANITY OF HUMAN WISHES.
An Elegy on the untimely Death of a Scots Poet.
BY MR JOHN TAIT.
Quis desiderio sit pudor, aut modus
was the night, and silence reign'd o'er all; No mirthful sounds urg'd on the ling'ring hour The sheeted ghost stalk'd thro' the stately hall;
And ev'ry breast confess'd chill Horror's power.
Slumb'ring I lay: I mus'd on human hopes : "Vain, vain," I cried, " are all the hopes we