358

DEATH S DOINGS.

THE PILGRIM.

In Pilgrim's guise I brought the fatal scroll,Which told a Maiden of her lover's death;

Grief took possession of her ardent soul,—

She bless'd his memory, and resign'd her breath:

Oft had she vow'd to love no other youth;

That vow she kept,—an instance rare of truth!

the artist.

Mine was the task to stop the Artist's hand,

Ere age had brought his genius to a stand;

He'd finish'd Time —and therefore 'twas my whim,

Just at that nick of time, to finish him:

And as I knew he meant a Dance to lead me,

To shew his skill in graphic witticisms,I took his brush away !—and made him heed me,—

And saved him thus from friendly criticisms !

the cricketer.

In the Cricketer's care-killing gameThere was something so manly and gay,

That his pastime I never could blame,But cheerfully join'd in the play :