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THE WINTER NOSEGAY.
To the delicate growth of our isle,
And Winter is deck'd with a smile. See, Mary, what beauties I bring
From the shelter of that sunny shed, Where the flow'rs have the charms of the spring,
Though abroad they are frozen and dead.
II. "Tis a bow'r of Arcadian sweets,
Where Flora is still in her prime, A fortress to which she retreats
From the cruel assaults of the clime. While Earth wears a mantle of snow,
These pinks are as fresh and as gay, As the fairest and sweetest, that blow
On the beautiful bosom of May.
The frowns of a sky so severe;
Through many a turbulent year.
Seem'd grac'd with a livelier hue,
The truth of a friend such as you.
NECESSARY TO THE HAPPINESS OF THE MARRIED
The lady thus address'd her spouse.
Are such an antiquated scene,
You are so deaf, the lady cried,
hear? Dismiss poor Harry! he replies; Some people are more nice than wise, For one slight trespass aļl this stir? What if he did ride whip and spur, "Twas but a mile-your fav'rite horse Will never look one hair the worse.
Well, I protest 'tis past all bearingChild! I am rather hard of hearingYes, truly-one must scream and bawl: I tell you, you can't hear at all! Then, with a voice exceeding low, No matter if you hear or no.
Alas! and is domestic strife,
The love, that cheers life's latest stage,
Tis gentle, delicate, and kind,
FORC'D from home and all it's pleasures,
Afric's coast I left forlorn;
O'er the raging billows borne.
Paid my price in paltry gold; But, though slave they have enroll'd me,
Minds are never to be sold.