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MISCEL?.AN]?OUS ' ?OE?S. The things, that are aroun? me now, a?l, wild alld fever'd I sometimes think, they cannot be, they must be all a And shall I not awake, and find myself once more Beneath the elm I lov'd, or bes|de the river's shore ? Ah no !. These thoughts are dreams; then rous e thee, 0 my soul, And, since the past is past, let the future be thy goal; And, if this life no more can give what once it gave, There is a light from hcaven? which shines upon the grave ! ON LEAVING W. B. 0 DO not think without a pang I leave Thy friendly roof, by tumult ne'er annoy'd ! 0 do not think I soon shall cease to grieve O'er many a vanish'd pleasure, there eejoy'd I ......... ?Google
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