7 They softly lie, 7 | 7 and | sweetly sleep, 7 | Low in the ground. | 77 | 77 | 7 The | storm | No more dis 7 that | wrecks the | wintery | sky 7 | turbs 7 | their | deep re- | pose, 7 | 7 Than | summer | evening's | latest | sigh 7 |77| 7 That shuts 7 the rose. 7|77|77 | | | 7 I long to lay | 7 this | painful | head 7 | 7 And | aching | heart 7 | 7 be- | neath the | soil, 7 | 7 To slumber in that | dreamless | bed 7 | 7 From all 7 my | toil. | 77 | 77 | 7 For | misery |77| stole me | 7 at my | birth 7 | 7 And cast me 7 I | perish; | 7 7 helpless | 7 on the wild: 7 | 77 | Take | home | 7 thy | child. |77|77| On thy | dear | lap 7 | these | limbs re- | clined, 7 | 7 Shall | gently | 77 | moulder | 7 into | thee; 7 | 7 Nor | leave one | wretched | trace be- | hind, 7 777 Re- |sembling | me. 7|77|77| Hark! 7 | 7a | strange | sound | 7 af- | frights mine ear; 7|77| 7 My | pulse, | 7 my | brain | runs wild, | 7I| rave: 7 | 77 Ah! who art | thou whose voice I | hear? 7|77|77| I am the Grave! | 77 | 77 | 7 The | Grave 7 | 7 (that | never | spake be- | fore, 7 | 7 Hath | found at length a | tongue | 7 to | chide: 7 | O listen! |77| I will | speak no | more: 777 Be | silent, | Pride. | 7 7 7 7 | Art thou a wretch, 7 | 7 of | hope | 7 for- | lorn, 7 | 7 The victim | 7 of con- | suming | care? 7|77| Is thy distracted | conscience | torn 7 | 7 By | fell de- | spair? | 77 | 77 | 7 Do foul mis- deeds 7 | 7 of | former | times 7 || 7 And ghosts | 7 of unfor- | given | crimes | Murder thy | rest? | 77 | 77 | Lash'd by the | furies | 7 of the | mind, 7 | 7 From wrath and | vengeance | 7 would'st thou | flee? 7 | 77 | Ah! | think not, | hope not, | fool, 7 | 7 to | find 7 | 7 By all the 7 A¦ friend | 7 in | me. 7 | 77 | 77 | terrors of the | tomb, 7 | 7 Be-yond the power of tongue | 7 to | tell 7 | 7 By the dread | secrets of my | womb 7 | 7 By | death | 7 and | hell? | 7 I charge thee | live? | 7 re- | pent and | pray; 7 | 7 In | dust thine | infamy de- | plore ;7 | 7 There | yet is | mercy ; | 77 | go thy | way 7 | 7 And sin 77 no more. |77|77| 7 What | e'er thy | lot 7 | 7 who | e'er thou | be, 7 | 7 Con- | fess thy | folly, | 7 7 | kiss the | rod, 7 | And in thy chastening | sorrows | see | 7 The hand 7 of God. 7|77|77 7 A bruised reed 7 7 he will not break; 7|77| 1 7 Afflictions | all his children feel; 7|77| 7 He wounds them | 7 for his mercy's sake, 7 | Humbled beneath his mighty | hand, 7 | 7 'Tis done! 7 | 7 a- | rise! 7 | 77 | He | bids thee | stand, 7 7 To fall 7 no more. | 77 | 77 | Now traveller in the vale of | tears! ¦ 7 To realms of ever- | lasting-¦ light 7 | 7 Through time's dark | wilderness | 7 of years, 7 7 Pur-sue | 7 thy | flight. 7|77|17 17 | 7 There is 7 | 7 a calm for | those who | weep, 7 | 7 for | weary | pilgrims | found; | while the mouldering | ashes | sleep 7 | Low in the ground; | 7 A rest 7 77 | 7 And 7 The soul 77 (of | origin | 7 di-| vine 7 | 7 The sun is but a | spark of | fire, 7 | 7 7 | 77 | Shall never | die. | 77 | 77 | THE POPLAR FIELD. Cowper. 7 The | poplars are | fell'd, | 7 7 | fare | well | 7 to the shade, 7 | 7 And the | whispering | sound of the | cool | colo- | nade; 7 7 7 7 The winds | play no | longer | 7 and sing in | the leaves, 7 Nor | Ouse | 7 on his | bosom | 7 their | image | 7 re- ceives. | 77 | 77 | Twelve | years | 7 have e- | lapsed, 7 | since I | last 7 | took a view 7 | 7 Of my favorite | field, 7 | 7 and the | bank where they | grew; 7 | 7 And now in the laid, 7| grass | 7 be- | hold they are | 7 And the tree | 7 is my | seat, 7 7 that once 7 | lent me a | shade. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The Blackbird | 7 has | fled to an- | other re- | treat, 7 | Where the hazels | 7 af- | ford him a | screen from the heat, 7 | 7 And the scene | 7 where his | melody | charm'd me be- | fore, 7 | 7 Re- | sounds | 7 with his | sweet | flowing | ditty | 7 no more. 7 | 77 | 77 | My fugitive years | 7 are | all | hasting a- | way, 7 | 77 | 7 And I must ere | long 7 | lie as | lowly as they, 7 | 7 With a turf on my | breast, 7 | 7 and a | stone at my | head, 7 | Ere an- | other such | grove | 7 shall a- | rise in its | stead. 7 | 77 | 77 | 7 'Tis a sight to engage me 7 To |gage me | 7 if any thing | can muse 7 on the | perishing | nature of | man ; 7 | 77 | Though his | life 7 | be a | dream, 7 | 7 his en- | joyments, 7 I see, 71 7 Have a being | less 7 | durable | 77 | even | 7 than | he. 7 | 77 | 77 | THE ROSE. Cowper. 7 The rose had been | wash'd, 7 | just 7 | wash'd in a | shower, 7 | 7 Which | Mary to | Anna | 7 con- | vey'd ; 7 | 77 | 7 The | plentiful | moisture | 7 en- | cumbered the | flower, 7 | 7 And | weigh'd down | 7 its beautiful | head.| 7 7| 7 The cup was all fill'd 7 and the leaves were all wet, 7 | 1 7 And it seem'd to a | fanciful | view 7 | 7 To | weep for the buds 7 | it had left with re gret 7 | On the | flourishing | bush | 7 where it | grew.| 7 7|7 7] |