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DEATH S D01NGH.

And he who hopes by faith alone to stand,

Erects a tottering column on the sand.

Be just and liberal—to your country true—

High Heav'n revere—your neighbour's good pursue;

Let virtue, honour, meekness, fill your breast,

And to Almighty Goodness leave the rest:—

Do this—and, trust me, you shall find the way

To the bright regions of eternal day!—

Oh ! if the path that leads to Heaven's gate,

Were like a labyrinth, dark and intricate,

How few, how very few would enter there!

How few to tread the mystic path would dare!

Yon Maiden, peeping through her ivory fan,Would fain improve her mind, by studying— Man !While that spruce Beau, who ogles her, declares,For youth and beauty I should not lay snares,Nor interrupt their tender sighs and kisses,But give them time t' enjoy connubial blisses!—Now, should I grant these turtles their request,Although you'd think they were supremely blest,Yet such would be the bickerings and strifeTo interrupt that blessed state of life,That 'ere twelve months had o'er the couple roll'd,He would a tyrant prove, and she a scold ;