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Lines written in an Album of Miss More's

295

Sonnet to William Wilberforce, Esq.

295

Epigram-"To purify their wine some people bleed"... 296

To Dr. Austin, of Cecil Street, London ....

296

Catharina : on her Marriage to George Courtenay, Esq. 297

Epitaph on Fop, a dog belonging to Lady Throckmorton 298

Sonnet to George Romney, Esq.

299

Mary and John

299

Epitaph on Mr. Chester, of Chicheley

To my Cousin, Anne Bodham.......

300

Inscription for a Hermitage in the Author's Garden ..... 301

To Mrs. Unwin.....

301

To John Johnson, on his presenting me with an Antique 302

Bust of Homer

302

To a young Friend.

302

A Tale............

303

On a Spaniel, called Beau, killing a young Bird. 306

Beau's Reply

307

To William Hayley, Esq..

308

Answer to Staužas addressed to Lady Hesketh, by Miss

Catharine Fanshawe...

309

On Flaxman's Penelope

309

To the Spanish Admiral Count Gravina

310

To Mary

310

Montes Glaciales, in Oceano Germanico Natantes...... 312

On the Ice Islands, seen floatir.g in the German Ocean 314

The Castaway...

316

The Salad, by Virgil........

319

To Sir Joshua Reynolds......

324

On the Author of Letters on Literature

326

Stanzas on the late indecent Liberties taken with the

Remains of Miltop. Anno 1790 .......

327

To the Rev. William Bull ..

328

Monumental Inscription to William Northcot............ 331

Translation

331

Epitaph on Mrs, M. Higgins of Weston

339

A Riddle

332

Answer. From the Gentleman's Magazine, vol. Ixxvi.

332

Cowper had sinn’d with some excuse

333

In seditionem horrendam, corruptelis Gallicis, ut fertur,

Londini nuper exortam

333

Translation ..

334

........

HYMNS.

I.

WALKING WITH GOD.

Gen. v. 24.

Oh! for a closer walk with God,

A calm and heavenly frame; A light to shine upon the road

That leads me to the Lamb ! Where is the blessedness I knew

When first I saw the Lord ? Where is the soul-refreshing view

Of Jesus and his word ? What peaceful hours I once enjoy'd ! How sweet their

memory

still ! But they have left an aching void,

The world can never fill. Return, O holy Dove, return!

Sweet messenger of rest : I hate the sins that made thee mourn, And drove thee from

my

breast. The dearest idol I have known,

Whate'er that idol be,
Help me to tear it from thy throne,

And worship only thee.

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