A WINTER PIECE. T was a winter's evening, and fast came down the fnow, IT And keenly o'er the wide heath the bitter blast did blow When a damfel all forlorn, quite bewilder'd in her way, Prefs'd her baby to her bofom, and fadly thus did fay: Oh! cruel was my father, that fhut his door on me, And cruel was my mother, that such a fight could see ; And cruel is the wint'ry wind, that chills my heart with cold, But crueller than all, the lad that left my love for gold! Hufh, hufh, my lovely baby, and warm thee in Then down the funk despairing upou the drifted fnow; SELF-LOVE By Dr. YOUNG. HO venerate themselves, the world despise. WH For what, gay friend! is this efcutcheon'd world, Which hangs out death in one eternal night? A night that glooms us in the noon-tide ray. Inch-high the grave above; that home of man, Is death at diftance? No: he has been on thee; A moment, and the world's blown up to thee; The fun is darknefs, and the ftars are duft. |