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Whereat his horse did snort, as he

Had heard a lion roar,
And galloped off with all his might,

As he had done before.
Away went Gilpin, and away

Went Gilpin's hat and wig:
He lost them sooner than at first,

For why? they were too big.
Now Mistress Gilpin, when she saw

Her husband posting down
Into the country far away,

She pulled out half-a-crown; And thus unto the youth she said

That drove them to the Bell, “ This shall be yours, when you bring back

My husband safe and well.”
The youth did ride, and soon did meet

John coming back amain :
Whom in a trice he tried to stop,

By catching at his rein;
But not performing what he meant,

And gladly would have done,
The frighted steed he frighted more,

And made him faster run.
Away went Gilpin, and away

Went post-boy at his heels,
The post-boy's horse right glad to miss

The lumbering of the wheels.
Six gentlemen upon the road,

Thus seeing Gilpin fly,
With post-boy scampering in the rear,

They raised the hue and cry:

• Stop thief! stop thief !—a highwayman!”

Not one of them was mute;
And all and each that passed that way,

Did join in the pursuit.
And now the turnpike gates again

Flew open in short space;
The toll-men thinking as before,

That Gilpin rode a race.
And so he did, and won it too,

For he got first to town;
Nor stopped till where he had got up

He did again get down.
Now let us sing, long live the King,

And Gilpin long live he:
And when he next doth ride abroad,

May I be there to see!

ALEXANDER SELKIRK'S SOLILOQUY.

By CowPER.
I am monarch of all I survey,

My right there is none to dispute ;
From the centre all round to the sea,

I am lord of the fowl and the brute.
O solitude ! where are the charms

That sages have seen in thy face?
Better dwell in the midst of alarms,

Than reign in this horrible place.
I am out of humanity's reach,

I must finish my journey alone;
Never hear the sweet music of speech,

I start at the sound of my own,

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The beasts that roam over the plain

My form with indifference see : They are so unacquainted with man,

Their tameness is shocking to me.

Society, friendship, and love,

Divinely bestowed upon man, O, had I the wings of a dove,

How soon would I taste you again! My sorrows I then might assuage

In the ways of religion and truth; Might learn from the wisdom of age,

And be cheered by the sallies of youth.

Religion ! what treasures untold

Reside in that heavenly word! More precious than silver and gold,

Or all that this earth can afford ! But the sound of the church-going bell,

These valleys and rocks never heard: Never sighed at the sound of a knell,

Or smiled when a Sabbath appeared.

Ye winds, that have made me your sport,

Convey to this desolate shore Some cordial endearing report

Of a land I shall visit no more! My friends-do they now and then send

A wish or a thought after me? O tell me I yet have a friend,

Though a friend I am never to see.

How fleet is the glance of the mind !

Compared 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.
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.

THE

NIGHTINGALE AND THE GLOWWORM.

· BY COWPER.
A NIGHTINGALE, that all day long
Had cheered the village with his song,
Nor yet at eve his note suspended,
Nor yet when eventide was ended,
Began to feel, as well he might,
The keen demands of appetite,
When, looking eagerly around,
He spied far off, upon the ground,
A something shining in the dark,
And knew the glow-worm by his spark,
So, stooping down from hawthorn top,
He thought to put him in his crop.
The worm, aware of his intent,
Harangued him thus, right eloquent :-
“ Did you admire my lamp, quoth he, .
“ As much as I your minstrelsy, .

• You would abhor to do me wrong,
" As much as I to spoil your song;
“For 'twas the selfsame power divine
“ Taught you to sing, and me to shine;
5. That you with music, I with light,
“ Might beautify and cheer the night.”

The songster heard his short oration,
And warbling out his approbation,
Released him, as my story tells,
And found a supper somewhere else.
Hence jarring sectaries may learn
Their real interest to discern;
That brother should not war with brother,
And worry and devour each other,
But sing and shine by sweet consent
Till life's poor transient night be spent.

THE BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE.

By WOLFE.
Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note,
As his corse to the rampart we hurried;
Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot
O'er the grave where our hero we buried.
We buried him darkly, at dead of night,
The sods with our bayonets turning,
By the struggling moonbeam's misty light,
And the lantern dimly burning.
No useless coffin enclosed his breast,
Nor in sheet nor in shroud we wound him;
But he lay like a warrior taking his rest,
With his martial cloak around him.

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