Poetry. 

 My last good night I thou wilt not wake 

 Till I thy fate ftnll overtake : 

 Till age, or grief, or sicknefs must 

 Marry my body to that dust 

 It so much loves; and fill the room 

 My heart keeps empty in thy tomb. 

 Stay for me ther? ; I will not faile 

 To meet thee in that hollow vale. 

 And think not much of my delay-; 

 J am already on the way, 

 And follow thee with all the speed 

 Desire can make, or sorrows breed. 

 Each minute is a (hort degree. 

 And ev'ry houre a step towards thee. 

 At right when I betake to rest. 

 Next mom I rise neerer my west 

 Of life, almost by eight houres snile. 

 Then when sleep breath'd his drowsie galtf. 



The thought of this bids me go on, 

 And wait my difsolutlon 

 With hope and comfort, dear (forgive 

 The crime) I a:n content to live 

 Divided, with but half a heart. 

 Till we fliall meet and never part. 



THE ROSE. 

 X HE rose had been walh'd, just wafti'd in a fliow'r. 

 Which Marry to Anna convey'd. 

 The plentiful moisture cncumber'd the flow'r. 

 And weigh'd down its beautiful he;id. 



The cup was all fiUM, and the leaves were all wer> 



And it seem'd, to a fanciful view, 

 To weep for the buds it had left with regret 



On the flourithing bufh where it grew. 



I hastily seiz'd it, unfit as it Was 



For a nosegay, so drooping and drown'd, 



And wringing it rudely, too rudely, alas ! 

 I snapt it, it fell to the ground. 



And such, I exclaim'd, is the pitylcfs part 



Some act by the delicate mind, 

 Regardlefs of wringing and breaking a heart 



Already to sorrow resign'd. 



This elegant rose, had I rtiaken it lefs. 



Might have bloom'd with its owner a whJie-J 



And a tear that is wip'd with a little addrefs 

 May be ft)llow'd, perhaps, by a srr.ile. 



