rt, that from below
This grass-green hill, with steady steps dost press;
Shed sympathetic tears; for stranger know,
Here lies the son of sorrow and distress.

II

Although his soul with ev'ry virtue mov'd,
Tho' at his birth deceitful fortune smil'd,
In one sad hour, too fatally he lov'd;
False fortune frown'd, and he was sorrow's child.

III

Heav'n gave him passions, as she virtue gave,
But gave not pow'r those passions to suppress:
By them subdu'd he slumbers in the grave--
The soul's last refuge from terrene distress.

IV

Around his tomb, the sweetest grass shall spring;
And annual flowers shall ever blossom here;
Here fairy forms their loveliest gifts shall bring,
And passing strangers shed the pitying tear.

_Amer. Museum_, I-474, May 1787, Phila.

[Dr. Ladd, _Werter's Epitaph_.]

DESCENT OF ODIN. AN ODE.

_New Haven Gaz. and Conn. Mag._, III-No. 21, May 29, 1788, New Haven.

[Thomas Gray, _Poems_. Publ. by Dodsley--London, July 1768. Publ. by
Foulis--Glasgow, Sept. 1768.

Both editions contain the _Descent of Odin_. "The poem was written at
Cambridge in 1761. It is a paraphrase of the ancient Icelandic lay
called _Vegtams Kvida_, and sometimes _Baldrs draumar_. The original
is to be found in Bartholinus, _de causis contemnendae mortis_; Hafniae,
1689, quarto. Gray has omitted to translate the first four lines." Cf.
_Works of Thomas Gray_, ed. by Edmund Gosse. N. Y., 1885. I-60.]

CHARACTERISTIC SKETCH OF THE LONG ISLAND DUTCH.

Still on those plains their num'rous race survive,
And, born to labour, still are found to thrive;
Through rain and sunshine, toiling for their heirs,
They hold no nation on this earth like theirs.
Where'er they fix, all nature smiles around--
Groves bend with fruit, and plenty clothes the ground;
No barren trees to shade their domes, are seen;
Trees must be fertile, and their dwellings clean;
No idle fancy dares its whims apply,
Or hope attention from the master's eye.
All tends to something that must pelf produce,
All for some end, and ev'ry thing its use.
Eternal scow'rings keep their floors afloat,
Neat as the outside of the Sunday coat.
The wheel, the loom, the female band employ,--
These all their pleasure, these their darling joy.