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Six gentlemen upon the road
Thus seeing Gilpin fly, With post-boy scampering in the rear,
They raised the hue and cry:
Stop thiefl stop thief - highwayman!
Not one of them was mute;
Did join in the pursuit.
And now the turnpike gates again
Flew open in short space; The toll-men thinking as before
That Gilpin rode a race.
And so he did, and won it too,
For he got first to town;
He did again get down.
A PROTESTANT LADY IN FRANCE.
A STRANGER's purpose in these lays
The path of sorrow, and that path alone, Leads to the land where sorrow is unknown; No traveller ever reached that blest abode, Who found not thorns and briars in his road. The world may dance along the flowery plain, Cheered as they go by many a sprightly strain, Where Nature has her mossy velvet spread, With unshod feet they yet securely tread, Admonished, scorn the caution and the friend, Bent upon pleasure, heedless of its enda But he, who knew what human hearts would prove, How slow to learn the dictates of his love, That hard by nature and of stubborn will, A life of ease would make them barder still,
In pity to the sinners he designed
Ah, be not sad, although thy lot be cast Far from the flock, and in a distant waste! No shepherd's tents within thy view appear, But the chief Shepherd is for ever near ; Thy tender sorrows and thy plaintive strain Flow in a foreign land, but not in vain; Thy tears all issue from a source divine, And every drop bespeaks a Saviour thine'Twas thus in Gideon's fleece the dews were found, And drought on all the drooping herbs around.
REV, W. CAWTHORNE UNWIN.
1. Unwin, I should but ill
As ever friendship penned,
Not rashly, nor in sport,
And faithful in its sort,
The bud of peach or rose,
The stock whereon it grows,
TO, THE REV. W. CAW THORNE UNWIN,
I seize thy name in haste,
Least this should prove the last.
Should be the poet's heart;
Than ever blazed by art.
END OF THE FIRST YOLUMB,
7. Bensley, Printer, Bolt-court, Fleet-street, London,