Bagatelles [by A.H. Mills].

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Page 219 - round the demefne. Mr. Pope's defcription is "ideal, and to poetical minds eafily conveyed; '.' but I faw neither rocks nor pines, nor was it a " kind of ground which ever fcemed to encourage " fuch objects. On the contrary, it was in a " vale ; and mountains like the Alps generally
Page 215 - The moon fhone very bright ; and it being " near the vintage, I do confefs I never had a more " elegant evening walk. I foon found, as the " clock ftruck ten on our approach to the Con...
Page 22 - Blush not, ye fair, to own me ! — but be wise, , Nor turn from sad mortality your eyes ; Fame says (and Fame alone can tell how true) I — once — was lovely, and belov'd — like you ; Where are my vot'ries, where my flatterers now ? Fled with the subject of each lover's vow.
Page 35 - I come, dear companion in grief ! Gay fcenes and fond pleafures, adieu ! I come, and we'll gather relief From bofoms fo chafte and fo true. Like you, I have mourn'd the long night, And wept out the day in defpair ; Like you, I have banifh'd delight, And bofom'da friend in my care. Ye meadows fo...
Page 20 - Go on vain man ! to luxury be firm* Yet know — I feafted, but to feaft a worm. Already fure lefs terrible I feem, And you, like me...
Page 2 - I'd bear the reaper's toil ; For thee ! confume the midnight oil ; Then, to your judgment, wou'dlowe All that I read, and write, and know ;, Can thofe who wiih, like me, pretend To part the Lover and the Friend ! IV. Come, then ! and let us dare to prove Difinterefted fweets of love ; For, gen'rous love no dwelling finds, In poor and mercenary minds : Laugh at life's idle flutt'ring things ; Look, down with pity upon kings ; Carelefs ! who like, or difcommend, Bleft in the Lover and the Friend I...
Page 22 - I the real truth impart, Nor here am plac'd, but to direct the heart. Survey me well, ye fair ones, and believe, The grave may terrify, but can't deceive. On beauty's fragile state no more depend ; Here youth and pleasure, age and sorrow end.
Page 36 - Allen mall tread ! All deaf to the found of that knell Which tolls for his Ella when dead. Your wifh will, too fure be obey'd ; Nor Allen her lofs fhall bemoan ! Soon foon, fhall poor Ella be laid Where her heart fhall be cold as your own. Then twin'd in the arms of that fair, Whofe wealth has been Ella's fad fate : As, together, ye draw the free air, And a thoufand dear pleafures relate : If chance, o'er my turf, as ye tread, Ye dare to affeft a fond figh ! The primrofe will fhrink her pale head,...
Page 1 - Noah's dove, my bufy breaft Has rov'd to find a place of reft ! Some faithful bofom, to repofe, And hufh, the family of woes. Then, do I dream ? or, have I found The fair and hofpitable ground ? Ah ! quit your fex's rules, and lend A Lover's wifties to the Friend.
Page 20 - Life, in its utmoft fpan, is ftill a breath; And thofe who longeft dream, muft wake in, death* Like you ! I once thought ev'ry blifs fecure, And gold, of ev'ry ill, the certain cure ; 'Till ! fteep'd in forrows, and befieg'd with pain,.

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