Which I have looked for nights and mornings; But for that loss of time and ease,

I can recover damages."

"I know," cries Death, that at the best I seldom am a welcome guest;

But do n't be captious, friend, at least:
I little thought you 'd still be able
To stump about your farm and stable;
Your years have run to a great length;
I wish you joy, though, of your strength!"
"Hold," says the farmer, "not so fast!
I have been lame these four years past."

"And no great wonder," Death replies:
"However, you still keep your eyes;
And sure, to see one's loves and friends,
For legs and arms would make amends."

Perhaps," says Dodson, "so it might,
But latterly I've lost my sight."

"This is a shocking tale, 't is true,
But still there 's comfort left for you:
Each strives your sadness to amuse;
I warrant you hear all the news."

"There's none," cries he; "and if there were, I'm grown so deaf I could not hear." "Nay, then," the spectre stern rejoined, "These are unwarrantable yearnings; If you are lame, and deaf, and blind,

You've had your three sufficient warnings.
So, come along, no more we 'll part,"
He said, and touched him with his dart.
And now old Dodson, turning pale,

Yields to his fate-so ends my tale.

Life.

HESTER THRALE.

LIFE, I know not what thou art,

But know that thou and I must part;

And when, or how, or where we met,
I own to me 's a secret yet.

Life, we have been long together,

Through pleasant and through cloudy weather; "T is hard to part when friends are dear, Perhaps 't will cost a sigh, a tear;

Then steal away, give little warning,

Choose thine own time,

Say not Good-Night, but in some brighter clime

Bid me Good-Morning.

ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD.

When Shall we Three Meet Again?

WHEN shall we three meet again?
When shall we three meet again?
Oft shall glowing hope expire,
Oft shall wearied love retire,
Oft shall death and sorrow reign,
Ere we three shall meet again.

Though in distant lands we sigh,
Parched beneath a burning sky;
Though the deep between us rolls,
Friendship shall unite our souls;
Oft in Fancy's rich domain;
Oft shall we three meet again.

When our burnished locks are gray,
Thinned by many a toil-spent day;
When around this youthful pine
Moss shall creep and ivy twine,—
Long may this loved bower remain-
Here may we three meet again.

When the dreams of life are fled;
When its wasted lamps are dead;

When in cold oblivion's shade

Beauty, wealth, and fame are laid,—
Where immortal spirits reign,

There may we three meet again.

ANONYMOUS.

Gaffer Gray.

"Hcl why dost thou shiver and shake, Gaffer Gray,

And why doth thy nose look so blue ?" "T is the weather that 's cold,

'T is I'm grown very old,

And my doublet is not very new,
Well-a-day!"

"Then line that warm doublet with ale, Gaffer Gray,

And warm thy old heart with a glass."

Then

"Nay, but credit I 've none,

And my money 's all gone;
say how may that come to pass?
Well-a-day!"

"Hie away to the house on the brow, Gaffer Gray,

And knock at the jolly priest's door." "The priest often preaches

Against worldly riches,

But ne'er gives a mite to the poor,
Well-a-day!"

"The lawyer lives under the hill,

Gaffer Gray,

Warmly fenced both in back and in front."

"He will fasten his locks,

And will threaten the stocks,

Should he evermore find me in want,
Well-a day!"

'The squire has fat beeves and brown ale,
Gaffer Gray,

And the season will welcome you there."
"His fat beeves and his beer,

And his merry new year,

Are all for the flush and the fair,

Well-a-day!"

"My keg is but low, I confess,

Gaffer Gray,

What then? While it lasts, man, we 'll live."

"The poor man alone,

When he hears the poor moan,

Of his morsel a morsel will give,

Well-a-day."

THOMAS HOLCROFT.

What Constitutes a State.

WHAT Constitutes a state?

Not high-raised battlement or labored mound,
Thick wall or moated gate;

Not cities proud with spires and turrets crowned;
Not bays and broad-armed ports,

Where, laughing at the storm, rich navies ride;
Not starred and spangled courts,

Where low-browed baseness wafts perfume to gride.
No:-men, high-minded men,

With powers as far above dull brutes endued

In forest, brake, or den,

As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude,—
Men who their duties know,

But know their rights, and, knowing, dare maintain,
Prevent the long-aimed blow,

And crush the tyrant while they rend the chain;
These constitute a state;

And sovereign law, that state's collected will,
O'er thrones and globes elate

Sits empress, crowning good, repressing ill.
Smit by her sacred frown,

The fiend, Dissension, like a vapor sinks;
And e'en the all-dazzling crown

Hides his faint rays, and at her bidding shrinks;
Such was this heaven-loved isle,

Than Lesbos fairer and the Cretan shore!

No more shall freedom smile?

Shall Britons languish, and be men no more?
Since all must life resign,

Those sweet rewards which decorate the brave

'Tis folly to decline,

And steal inglorious to the silent grave.

SIR WILLIAM JONES.

To the Cuckoo.

HAIL, beauteous stranger of the grove!

Thou messenger of Spring!

Now heaven repairs thy rural seat,
And woods thy welcome sing.

Soon as the daisy decks the green,
Thy certain voice we hear.
Hast thou a star to guide thy path,
Or mark the rolling year?

Delightful visitant! with thee

I hail the time of flowers,
And hear the sound of music sweet
From birds among the bowers.

The school-boy, wandering through the wood
To pull the primrose gay,