MOVING.
(A Suburban Elegy.)
When I remember I shall tread no more
In such a short time now the well-known street,
And never to these ears shall sound the roar
Of Perkins' cart-wheels, dangerously fleet,
Bringing the boon of Ceres to the door,
Nor those of Batson (Batson is the meat);—
When I recall that in the hours to come