J792- 



poetry, ^"-^ 



Ye simple snow drops ! firstlings of the year ! 

 Fairest of floors ! sweet harbmger of spnng . 

 How meekly do ye hang your silv ry head. ! 

 Ske :;:aide>i:s,-coyly stealing f™- '^e v>ew. 

 •1 -^A Vipr modest eve 



Like maiflens,— >.")"; ..>.-..-o 



Ev'n so, upon the ground, her modest eye 



Th.t fears to meet th' irrev'rent gaze ot man, 



J autV unconscious bends i and so, more pure 



Thanlre your -ow-white ^ S^p^ ^,^^,^_ 



To hide thoic charms, how matcmeis . li u ^ ^ 



AN IRREGULAR ODE, BY MATTHEW BRAMBLE. 



To the Editor of the Bee. 



OuKXR Peter • since that thou art still 

 I„" is vile world, not gone to heaven. 



Come brandifti freely thy goose qu.ll, 

 ^nce wit to thee in store has g.ven 

 So S merry jests and harrnle^^s jokes. 



Poor Matthewt ""^ is laid 



Within bis little box. 

 Beneath the yew- tree's (hide, 



As dead as any fox 



As e'er on G 's grounds 



Was kiird by F— -'s hounds. 



I fear I really sometimes will abuse it ; 

 But Mat! I uu!c thy friends will now excuse .t 



t I )ueer Peter, Peter Pindar. 

 Edinburgh Masa^ine- 



