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POETRY.
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Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
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Epitaph , In a Cfacrch-yard in Wales , over the Grave of ¦ a faithful Servant *
In memory of . 'Mrs .- Mary Carryl , deceased 22 nd November , 1809 . This monument was erected by El en or Butler and Sarah Ponsonby , of Piasnewydd , in this parish . Kelca ^ ed from earth , tuid all its transient woes , She , whose remains beneath this stone repose , Stedfust in faith resign * d her parting breath , Look'd up with Christian joy , and smil'd in death . Patient , industrious , faithful , gen ' rous , kind , Her conduct left the proudest far behind ; Her virtues dignified her humble birth , And rais'd her mind above this sordid earth . Attachment , sacred bond of grateful breasts , Extinguished but with life , this tomb attests , Rear'd by two friends who will her loss bemoan , . Till , with her ashes ., bere , shall rest their OWlli
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CoVCLT 7 \ PjrN G SoNTXET . By Sir Philip Sidney .
Spleiididiff longwn valedieo nugis . To splendid trifles , now , a long farewell . Leave me , O Love I which reachest but to dust ; And thou , my mind , aspire to higher things : Grow rich in that which never taketh rust ; | l Whatever fades , J > ut fading pleasure , || brings . n ^ win thy beanos , and humble all th y / rfvight
To that sweet yoke , where lasting f ree ^ dams be , hich breaks , the ' clouds , and opens forth the light , * "at doth both shine , and give us sight to see . •?• - 0 fast hold ! let that light be thy nt small course , which birth draws An ^ death ; Wh h ° W i 11 ' ** 001 * 1 ** 11 »»» " to slide , J ° seeketh heav ' n , aud comes of ''T hen f ^^ breath ' jj ^ 'YWell [ > world > thy uttermost I see , ** * Ove , maintain thy love in me . 1 i i
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The Soldier . [ From the Cabitvrty 17 . 95 . ] Who hath beene a soldier , O , Who hath sough ten glorie ? Who hath thronged with archers bolde , Till his lockes were hoarie ? I havtf beene a soldier , O , f * Seekinge ever gloria , Facinge death , with my archers bolde , Till my lockes he hoarie . y My bodie is well seam'd with stairs , Though ne ' er a Hmbe be wantinge ; But let me not the braggart seenae , ' True valour is not rauntingc . Good JLorde ! and though thy haires be
gray , And tl \ y bodic roughe and seamed , Hath thy greene mauhood dedes achieved , To make thine age esteemed . Tygres that doe thirste for bipod , Through forestes wilde are raginge ; Ah me ! that man , like tygre gauntq With man should warre be waginge , Grieslie demons sprong from hell , Fraught with accursed vengeance , Lead on gvimm discorde ^ hrpug l ) th « world , And hurle their slaughtering engine * .
Poetry.
POETRY .
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i 415 )
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From the Italian of Fmgeni . And shall we turn a deaf and careless ear , To Thy dread voice , Omnipotent , — nor bow Our daring foreheads to the dust , when Thou Hurlest Thy thunders round the trembling sphere ? What I—shall we grasp our fatal pleasures dear , Till that dark , deflate hour of helpless woe , N When the pale spectre , death , shall strike the blow > And we the victims ? —Then appalling fear
Shall scatter dew drops oh our brow ;—a blast , A chilling blast , shall freeze our x * eins , — and chase The spirit of life that trembles on our tongue ; Now , now rebel , presumptuous ones , — row face The frownings of The Terrible ; ' tis past ! O fearful , frightful hour , forgot too long !
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Citation
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Monthly Repository (1806-1838) and Unitarian Chronicle (1832-1833), July 2, 1816, page 415, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/mruc/issues/vm2-ncseproduct2454/page/43/
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