EXTRACT FROM A SUNDAY-SCHOOL HYMN.
Hear, Lord, the song of praise and pray'r,
In heaven, thy dwelling-place,
From infants, made the public care,
And taught to seek thy face!
Thanks for thy word, and for thy day,
And grant us, we implore,
Never to waste in sinful play
Thy holy sabbaths more.
Thanks that we hear—but, oh! impart
To each desires sincere,
That we may listen with our heart,
And learn, as well as hear.
ON THE RECEIPT OF A HAMPER.
(IN THE MANNER OF HOMER.)
The straw-stuff'd hamper with his ruthless steel
He open'd, cutting sheer th' inserted cords
Which bound the lid and lip secure. Forth came
The rustling package first, bright straw of wheat,
Or oats, or barley; next a bottle green
Throat-full, clear spirits the contents, distill'd
Drop after drop odorous, by the art
Of the fair mother of his friend—the Rose.
ON THE NEGLECT OF HOMER.
Could Homer come himself, distress'd and poor,
And tune his harp at Rhedicina's door,
The rich old vixen would exclaim, (I fear,)
"Begone! no tramper gets a farthing here."