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 n dale.

But what can give pleasure, or what can seem fair. While the lingering moments are numbered by care *

No flowers gaily springing, nor birds sweetly singing, Can soothe the sad bosom of joyless despair.

The deed that I dared, could it merit their malice, A king, and a father to place on his throne 2

His right are these hills, and his right are these vallies, Where the wild beasts find shelter, but I can find none.

But 'tis not my sufferings, thus wretched, forlorn, My brave gallant friends, 'tis your ruin I mourn,

Your deeds proved so loyal in hot bloody trial,

Alas! can I make you no sweeter return? Burns.

No radiant pearl which crested fortune wears, No gem that twinkling hangs from beauty's ears, Not the bright stars which heaven's high arch adorn. Nor vernal sun that gilds the rising morn, Shine with such lustre as the tears that break, For other's woe, down virtue's manly cheek.

Sincerity is an openness of the heart which is rarely to be found; that which commonly personates it is a refined dissimulation, whose end is to procure confidence. A desire to talk of ourselves, and to set our faults in whatever light we choose, makes the main of our sincerity.