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VI.

How fleet is a glance of the mind! Compar'd with the speed of its flight The tempest itself lags behind,

And the swift-winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there; But, alas! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair.

VII.

But the sea-fowl is gone to her nest,
The beast is laid down in his lair;
Even here is a season of rest,

And I to my cabin repair.
There's mercy in every place,
And mercy, encouraging thought'
Gives even affliction a grace,
And reconciles man to his lot.

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REPORT

Of an adjudged Case, not to be found in any of the Books.

I.

BETWEEN Nose and Eyes a strange contest arose, The spectacles set them unhappily wrong; The point in dispute was, as all the world knows, To which the said spectacles ought to belong.

II.

So Tongue was the lawyer, and argued the cause With a great deal of skill, and a wig full of learning,

While chief baron Ear sat to balance the laws, So fam'd for his talent in nicely discerning.

III.

In behalf of the Nose it will quickly appear, And your lordship, he said, will undoubtedly find,

That the Nose has had spectacles always in wear, Which amounts to possession time out of mind.

IV.

Then holding the spectacles up to the court, Your lordship observes they are made with a

straddle

242

As wide as the ridge of the Nose is; in short, Design'd to sit close to it, just like a saddle.

V.

Again, would your lordship a moment suppose, ('Tis a case that has happen'd, and may be again,)

That the visage or countenance had not a Nose, Pray who would, or who could, wear spectacles then?

VI.

On the whole it appears, and my argument shows,

With a reasoning the court will never condemn, That the spectacles plainly were made for the

Nose

And the Nose was as plainly intended for them.

VII.

Then shifting his side, (as a lawyer knows how,)
He pleaded again in behalf of the Eyes:
But what were his arguments few people know,
For the court did not think they were equally

wise.

VIII.

So his lordship decreed, with a grave solemn tone, Decisive and clear, without one if or butThat, whenever the Nose put his spectacles on, By day-light or candle-light-Eyes should be shut.

CATHARINA.

Addressed to Miss Stapleton, now Mrs. Courtney

SHE came-she is gone-we have met-
And meet perhaps never again,

The sun of that moment is set,

And seems to have risen in vain.
Catharina has fled like a drean-
(So vanishes pleasure, alas!)
But has left a regret and esteem,
That will not so suddenly pass.

The last ev'ning ramble we made,
Catharina, Maria, and I,
Our progress was often delay'd

By the nightingale warbling nigh.
We paus'd under many a tree,

And much she was charm'd with a tone

Less sweet to Maria and me,

Who so lately had witness'd her own.

My numbers that day she had sung,
And gave them a grace so divine,

As only her musical tongue
Could infuse into numbers of mine

The longer I heard, I esteem'd
The work of my fancy the more,
And e'en to myself never seem'd
So tuneful a poet before.

Though the pleasures of London exceed
In number the days of the year,
Catharina, did nothing impede,

Would feel herself happier here; For the close-woven arches of limes On the banks of our river, I know, Are sweeter to her many times

Than aught that the city can show

So it is, when the mind is endu'd
With a well-judging taste from above
Then whether embellish'd or rude
Tis nature alone that we love ;
The achievements of art may amuse,
May even our wonder excite,
But groves, hills, and vallies diffuse
A lasting, a sacred delight.

Since, then, in the rural recess
Catharina alone can rejoice,
May it still be her lot to possess

The scene of her sensible choice!

To inhabit a mansion remote

From the clatter of street-pacing steeds,

And by Philomel's annual note

To measure the life that she leads.

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