LIFE OF WILSON. 
xlvii 
The summer sun was riding high, 
The woods in deepest verdure drest; 
From care and clouds of dust to fly. 
Across yon bubbling brook I past/’ 
The reader of classical poetry may well pardon me if, out of an 
effusion consisting of forty-four stanzas, I save him the task of 
reading any more than one. 
To Mr. LAWSON. 
Gray^s Ferry ^ August 14, 1804. 
“ Dear Sir, 
“ Enclosed is a copy of the “ Solitary Tutor which 
I should like to see in the Literary Magazine” of this month, 
along with the other poem which I sent the editor last week. 
Wishing, for my future benefit, to call the public attention to these 
pieces, if, in the editor’s opinion, they should seem worthy of it, I 
must request the favour of you to converse with him on this subject. 
You know the numerous pieces I am in possession of, would put it 
in my power to support tolerably well any recommendation he 
might bestow on these ; and while they would not, I trust, disgrace 
the pages of his valuable publication, they might serve as my in- 
troduction to the literary world, and as a sort of inspiration to some 
future and more finished attempts. Knowing that you will freely 
pardon the quantum of vanity that suggested these hints, 
“I remain, with real regard, &c.” 
To Mr. WM. BARTRAM. 
Union School, September 17? 1804. 
“The second volume of Pinkerton’s Geography has at lenglli 
made its appearance; and I take the freedom of transmitting it, 
