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With heavy sighs I often hear

You mourn my hapless woe;
But sure with patience I can bear

A loss I ne'er can know.

Then let not what I cannot have,

My cheer of mind destroy ;
While thus I sing, I am a king,

Although a poor blind boy.

CIBBER.

The Poor Blind Man.

DARK were his eyes from childhood! Poor and blind

He has travell’d on, till on his patient head

Their gather'd frosts have fourscore winters shed: But still God's word he hears, and in his mindWhat can he more ?-digests ; nor fails to find

Each day of rest the churchward path unled,

And share, whene'er dispens’d, the living bread, Pleas'd with God's bounty, to his rod resign'd. Blind though he be, deem him not wholly so,

Who knows the way of heav'nly truth to scan. A day perchance may come, when thou shalt throw

Thoughts of regret on life's exhausted span, Ah, blest with sight in vain! and long to know

The soul's enlightening of that poor blind man !

MANT.

The Council of Horses.

Once on a time a neighing steed,
Who graz'd among a num'rous breed,
With mutiny had fir’d the train,
And spread dissension through the plain.
On matters that concern'd the state
The council met in grand debate.
A colt, whose eyeballs flam'd with ire,
Elate with strength and youthful fire,
In haste stept forth before the rest,
And thus the list’ning throng address’d :

Good gods! how abject is our race,
Condemn’d to slav'ry and disgrace !
Shall we our servitude retain,
Because our sires have borne the chain ?
Consider, friends, your strength and might,
'Tis conquest to assert your right.
How cumb'rous is the gilded coach !
The pride of man is our reproach.
Were we design’d for daily toil,
To drag the ploughshare through the soil,
To sweat in harness through the road,
To groan beneath the carrier's load ?
How feeble are the two-legg'd kind !
What force is in our nerves combin'd!
Shall then our nobler jaws submit
To foam and champ the galling bit ?
Shall haughty man my back bestride?
Shall the sharp spur provoke my side ?

Forbid it, heavens! reject the rein ;
Your shame, your infamy disdain.
Let him the lion first control,
And still the tiger's famish'd growl;
Let us, like them, our freedom claim,
And make him tremble at our name.”

A gen’ral nod approv’d the cause,
And all the circle neigh'd applause.

When, lo! with grave and solemn pace, A steed advanc'd before the race; With age and long experience wise, Around he cast his thoughtful eyes; And to the murmurs of the train Thus spoke the Nestor of the plain :

When I had health and strength like you, The toils of servitude I knew; Now grateful man rewards my pains, And gives me all these wide domains. At will I crop the year's increase ; My latter life is rest and peace. I grant, to man we lend our pains, And aid him to correct the plains ; But doth not he divide the care, Through all the labours of the year ? How many thousand structures rise, To fence us from inclement skies ! For us he bears the sultry day, And stores up all our winter hay; He sows, he reaps the harvest's grain ; We share the toil, and share the gain :

Since ev'ry creature was decreed
To aid each other's mutual need,
Appease your discontented mind,
And act the part by Heav'n desigu’d.”

The tumult ceas’d. The colt submitted ;
And like his ancestors was bitted.

GAY

Sleep. How many thousand of my poorest subjects Are at this hour asleep! O sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh mine eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness ! Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs, Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee, And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber, Than in the perfum’d chambers of the great, Under the canopies of costly state, And lulld with sounds of sweetest melody? O thou dull god, why liest thou with the vile In loathsome beds; and leav'st the kingly couch A watch-case, or a common 'larum-bell ? Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains In cradle of the rude tempestuous surge ; And in the visitation of the winds, Who take the ruffian billows by the top, Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them With deafening clamours in the slippery clouds,

That with the burly death itself awakes ?
Canst thou, O partial sleep, give thy repose
To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude,
And in the calmest and most stillest night,
With all appliances and means to boot,
Deny it to a king? Then, happy low,- lie down!
Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.

SHAKSPEARE.

father Jilliam.

“ You are old, Father William,” the young man cried ;

« The few locks that are left you are grey : You are hale, Father William, a hearty old man

Now tell me the reason, I pray?”.

In the days of my youth,” Father William replied,

I remember'd that youth would fly fast; And abused not my health and my vigour at first,

That I never might need them at last.”

You are old, Father William,” the young man cried,

And pleasures with youth pass away; And yet you lament not the days that are gone

Now tell me the reason, I pray?"

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In the days of my youth,” Father William replied,

• I remember'd that youth would not last; I thought on the future whatever I did,

That I never might grieve for the past."

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