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poetry. Oct. 9. 
The viét’ry gain'’d, with glowing wheels . 
In brazen armour dazzling bright, 
A conscious pride the hero feels ; 
Hypsypile stands in his sight. 
To her when called to wear the crown, 
He cries exulting ‘‘ 1 am he! 
Altho’ my head be hoary grown, 
But this in youth we sometimes see. 
My heart and hand with equal speed, : 
If this can merit any praise, 
Conceive and execute the deed 
deserving of immortal lays. Mica. 
THE VISITOR. 
To nature, on earth, a fhort visit we pay, 
That visit, at longest, no more than a day; 
We rise in the morning with tears in our eye. 
Says nature, and gives us a rattle, “ dont cry.” 
We sit down to breakfast, ’tis gone in a trice, 
And well we remember our mother’s advice ; 
The tears from our eyes we wipe off too soon, 
And play the farce pastime through all the forenoon. 
With a fhort grace, ifany, we sit down to dine; 
At the feast we forget that the day will decline. 
Tis declining already, for if you can see, 
Tho’ you told the clock twelve, mark the hand ! that’s at three. 
Over coffee and tea how we trifle and prate, ‘ 
*Till ev’ning, and then, who'd have thought it so late ? 
Says nature, “ arise, make your bow, and away, 
My chaise at the door and the driver wont stay.” 
Reluctant we enter, the reason I know, 
We are not quite sure to what inn we fhall go: 
Inn! that’s not the word, and we know it too well, 
For homeward we go, and are going to dwell. °° 
And are we quite sure we will dwell at our ease? 
And fhall we reside just as long as we please ? 
That, that is the point, but where’er we retire, 
The lease of our dwelling will never expire. 
Mankind are the visitors, warn’d at the thought, 
At your visit behave as such visitors ought. 
