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"More blest than me, thus shall ye live Your little day; and when ye die, &ensp;Sweet flowers! the grateful Muse shall give A verse; the sorrowing maid, a sigh.

"While I alas! no distant date, Mix with the dust from whence I came, &ensp;Without a friend to weep my fate. Without a stone to tell my name."

We subjoin one more specimen of these "wild strains" said to be "Written two years after the preceding." .

"I wish I was where Anna lies; For I am sick of lingering here. &ensp;And every hour Affection cries, Go, and partake her humble bier.

"I wish I could! for when she died I lost my all; and life has prov'd &ensp;Since that sad hour a dreary void, A waste unlovely and unlov'd.

"But who, when I am turn'd to clay, Shall duly to her grave repair. &ensp;And pluck the ragged moss away, And weeds that have "no business there?"