xxiv INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 



What safety, privacy, what true delight, 



In th' artificial night, 



Your gloomy entrails make, 



Have I taken, do I take ! 



I low oft when grief has made me fly 



To hide me from society, 



Ev'n of my dearest friends, have I 



In your recesses friendly shade, 



All my sorrows open laid, 

 And my most secret woes, entrusted to your privacy ! 



IX. 



Lord ! would men let me alone; 

 What an over-happy one 



Should I think myself to be, 

 Might I, in this desert place, 

 Which most men in discourse disgrace, 



Live but undisturb'd and free ! 

 Here, in this despis'd recess, 



Would I, maugre Winter's cold, 

 And the Summer's worst excess, 



Try to live out to sixty full years old ! 

 And, all the while, 



Without an envious eye 

 On any thriving under Fortune's smile, 



Contented live, and then — contented die. 



C. C. 



But, notwithstanding the purity of sentiment 

 contained in these verses, we are compelled to add 

 that the virtuous aspirations of the poet were ren- 

 dered vain, hy a general want of economy in his 

 affairs : thus forming a striking contrast to those 

 of the practical moralist, whom, we cannot help 



