ives to her mind what he steals from her youth.

* * * * *

_The Gamester_. Act iii. Sc. 4.

'Tis now the summer of your youth: time
has not cropt the roses from your cheek,
though sorrow long has washed them.

* * * * *

WILLIAM SHENSTONE.
1714-1763.

_Written on the Window of an Inn_.

Whoe'er has traveled life's dull round,
Where'er his stages may have been,
May sigh to think he still has found
His warmest welcome at an inn.

_Jemmy Dawson_.

For seldom shall you hear a tale
So sad, so tender, and so true.

* * * * *

_The Schoolmistress_.

Her cap, far whiter than the driven snow,
Emblems right meet of decency does yield.

* * * * *

JOHN BROWN.
1715-1766.

_Barbarossa_. Act. v. Sc. 3.

Now let us thank the Eternal Power: convinced
That Heaven but tries our virtue by affliction,
That oft the cloud which wraps the present hour
Serves but to brighten all our future days.

* * * * *

DAVID GARRICK.
1716-1779.

_Prologue on Quitting the Stage in 1776, 10th of June_.

Their cause I plead--plead it in heart and mind;
A fellow-feeling makes one wondrous kind.

_On the Death of Mr. Pelham_.

Let others hail the rising sun:
I bow to that whose race is run.

* * * * *

THOMAS GRAY.
1716-1771.

_On a Distant Prospect of Eton College_.

Ah, happy hills! ah, pleasing shade!
Ah, fields beloved in vain!
Where once my careless childhood strayed,
A stranger yet to pain!

* * * * *

Alas! regardless of their doom,
The little victims play;
No sense have they of ills to come,
Nor care beyond to-day.

* * * * *

No more: where ignorance is bliss,
'Tis folly to be wise.

* * * * *

_Progress of Poesy_.

O'er her warm cheek and rising bosom move
The bloom of young Desire, and purple light of Love.

* * * * *

Ope the sacred source of sympathetic tears.
Thoughts that breathe, and words that burn.

* * * * *

_The Bard_.

Give ample room, and verge enough.

* * * * *

Youth at the prow, and Pleasure at the helm.

* * * * *

_Eleg