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Note 4, page 129, line 11.
Pin-eyed.

An auricula, or any other single flower, is so called when the stigma (the part which arises from the seed-vessel) is protruded beyond the tube of the flower, and becomes visible.

Note 5, page 129, line 14.

Which shed such beauty on my fair Bizarre.

This word, so far as it relates to flowers, means those variegated with three or more colours irregularly and indeterminately.

THE BOROUGH.

LETTER IX.

AMUSEMENTS.

Interpone tuis interdum gaudia curis,

Ut possis animo quemvis sufferre laborem.

Catull. lib. 3.

Nostra fatiscat

Laxaturque chelys, vires instigat alitque
Tempestiva quies, major post otia virtus.

Statius Sylv. lib. 4.

Jamque mare et tellus nullum discrimen habebant; Omnia pontus erant: deerant quoque littora ponto. Ovid Metamorph. lib. 1.

Common Amusements of a Bathing-place-Morning Rides, Walks, &c.-Company resorting to the Town-Different Choice of Lodgings-Cheap Indulgences-Sea-side Walks -Wealthy Invalid-Summer-Evening on the Sands-Sea Productions—“Water parted from the Sea"-Winter Views serene-In what Cases to be avoided-Sailing upon the River-A small Islet of Sand off the Coast-Visited by Company-Covered by the Flowing of the TideAdventure in that Place.

THE BOROUGH.

LETTER IX.

AMUSEMENTS.

Of our amusements ask you?-We amuse

Ourselves and friends with sea-side walks and views,

Or take a morning ride, a novel, or the news;

Or, seeking nothing, glide about the street,
And so engaged, with various parties meet;
Awhile we stop, discourse of wind and tide,
Bathing and books, the raffle, and the ride:
Thus, with the aid which shops and sailing give,
Life passes on; 'tis labour, but we live.

When evening comes, our invalids awake,
Nerves cease to tremble, heads forbear to ache;
Then cheerful meals the sunken spirits raise,
Cards or the dance, wine, visiting, or plays.
Soon as the season comes, and crowds arrive,
To their superior rooms the wealthy drive;

Others look round for lodging snug and small,
Such is their taste—they've hatred to a hall;
Hence one his fav'rite habitation gets,

The brick-floor'd parlour which the butcher lets;
Where, through his single light, he may regard
The various business of a common yard,
Bounded by backs of buildings form'd of clay,
By stable, sties, and coops, et-cætera.

The needy-vain, themselves awhile to shun, For dissipation to these dog-holes run; Where each (assuming petty pomp) appears, And quite forgets the shopboard and the shears. For them are cheap amusements: they may slip Beyond the town and take a private dip; When they may urge that, to be safe they mean, They've heard there's danger in a light machine; They too can gratis move the quays about, And gather kind replies to every doubt; There they a pacing, lounging tribe may view, The stranger's guides, who've little else to do; The Borough's placemen, where no more they gain Than keeps them idle, civil, poor, and vain. Then may the poorest with the wealthy look On ocean, glorious page of Nature's book! May see its varying views in every hour, All softness now, then rising with all power, As sleeping to invite, or threat'ning to devour :