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Alas, the dull bell his departure declares,
His wife and poor children are shedding those tears
That flows from sincerity's bosom of grief,
Scarce can old time give a lapse from relief.
The widow to ease or the orphan protect,
He would never a minute in friendship neglect;
Sometimes ungrateful they each of them prov'd,
At tales of affliction his bosom was moved.
How cheerful he'd set tho' hard blew the gale,
Amusing his friends with a voyager's tale.
Ill nature did never his features deform,
His hopes were thro' life to weather the storm.
Sometimes fickle fortune to him would prove kind,
Then he'd furl up his sails for a respite to mind;
When the mishaps of life to his bosom gave pain,
He would boldly embark on the ocean again;
In hopes that hereafter more lucky to be,
He would venture his all to the boisterous sea.
To a gloomy prison, with numbers hard press'd,
Oft thought of his home was greatly distress'd;
Yet the moment the tears of affliction was o'er,
Cherish'd a hope for to see them once more.
Return'd and no language those joys can impart,
When he press'd with affection his wife to his heart;
His children all gladden'd their Father to see,
Some hung round his neck, while some press'd his knee.
Pure friendship then enter'd their old friend to greet,
And happy was many, the sailor to meet.
They cried, your long absence have given us pain,
But thank God in safety we see you again.
'T was the last trip he made, pale sickness o'er-spread
The cheek once so rosy, and forced to his bed,
A Man that ne'er harbour'd a thought in his breast
To injure another or rob him of rest.
With calmness he cried, wife and children adieu,
My feelings foretel me I'm not long with you.
GOD fix my departure, and his will be done,
Lay me close by my house when my hour glass is run.
Complied were his wishes, for near is the grave,
Where Lieth the Body of BEN GEE the Brave.

ELEGY
ON THE DEATHS OF
_MR. BEALE AND HIS DAUGHTER_.

Late of Herts.

My Friends are fled from mortal eye,
God sent the just decree;
Let us submit to him on high,
Who made the Earth and Sea.

I hear again that death has paid,
A second visit where,
Lately dwelt a virtuous maid,
And parent's tender care.

Dear Madam, let your troubled, br