mistress urg'd him now to play,
And cut to wealth a shorter way,
Now as a bride she heads his table;
But still our Cit observ'd his time.
Returning at St. Cripple's chime,
At least as near as he was able.

But soon _she_ could not bear the sight
Of town; for walls with bow'rs unite,
As well as smoke with country breezes;
Without the keenest grief and pride
_He_ could not quit his _mares_, and _bride_:
We yield as soon as passion seizes.

The clock no more his herald prov'd;
Tuesday, nay Wednesday, morn have mov'd,
Ere trembling shopmen saw their master:
Observing neighbours whisper'd round,
That ease might do, with plenty crown'd;
If not, that ruin came the faster.

His cash grew scarce, his business still,
At variance were his books and till
(For wolves devour when shepherds slumber);
His creditors around him pour,
Seize all his horses, household store,
And only give him up the lumber!

LINES

_Written at the Sea-Side in Devonshire_,

IN THE MONTH OF NOVEMBER,

WHEN THE SHIPS FROM NEWFOUNDLAND RETURN.

Still Summer lingers on these peaceful shores,
Nor yet she quits her rose-erected bow'r;
Tho' oft in many a dew-drop she explores
Her beauties fading in each passing hour!

Tho' Winter's boist'rous child, November, strays
Amid those scenes that wak'd the poet's lyre,
Shakes his green canopy, and loves to raise,
Of sapless leaves, an altar for his sire.

Soon shall his wild and stormy sway be o'er;
These lovely scenes shall feel his shortest reign;
And thou, sweet Summer! charming as before,
Shall but retire to dress thyself again.

Yet Heaven guides, full provident and kind,
With sweet economy, the source of joy,
From grief extracts some comfort for the mind,
And fresh hopes flatter ere the lost annoy.

See where Connubial Love yon rock ascends,
To hail each sail, while fav'ring breezes blow;
There many an hour she o'er the margin bends,
Her bosom trembling like the floods below.

Nearer the ocean's graceful burden glides;
Cleav'd by its prow, the lines of water yield:
While adverse mountains, with protective sides,
The Heav'n-directed wand'ring seaman shield.

The anchor dropp'd, he springs upon the shore,
His wife and children press to meet his kiss;
Half-told, a thousand things they prattle o'er,
And, safe at home, renew their former bliss.

EPIGRAM,

ON WINNING A YOUNG LADY'S MONEY AT CARDS.

How fairly Fortune all her