MISCELLANEOUS. GO 



^Vhe^e the choral seraph choir, 



Strike to praise the harmonious lyre ; 



And the spirit sinks to ease, 



Luird by distant symphonies. 



Oh ! to think of meeting there 



The friends whose graves received our tear. 



The daughter loved, the wife adored, 



To our widow'd arms restored ; 



And all the joys which death did sever 



Given to us again for ever ! 



Who would cling to wretched life, 



And hug the poison'd thorn of strife — 



Who would not long from earth to fly 



A sluggish, senseless lump to lie, 



When the glorious prospect lies 



Full before his raptured eyes ? 



MY STUDY. 

 A Letter in Hudi'orastic Verse. 



You bid me, Ned, describe the place 

 Where I, one of the rhyming race, 

 Pursue my studies con amore, 

 And wanton with the muse in glory. 



Well, figure to your senses straight, 



Upon the house's topmost height, 



A closet, just six feet by four, 



With white washed walls, and plaster floor, 



So noble large, 'tis scarcely able 



To admit a single chair and table : 



And (lest the muse should die with cold) 



A smoky grate my fire to liold : 



So wondrous small, 'twould much it pose 



To melt the ice- drop on one's nose ; 



And yet so big, it covers o'er 



Full half the spacious room and more. 



