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I've been told by my friends (if they do not belie me)
But vain are the hopes which are formed by a parent,
On a sick-bed I lay, through the flesh my bones started,
Life and soul were kept in by a mother's assistance, Who struggled with faith, and prevailed 'gainst de
spair; Like an angel she watched o'er the lamp of existence, And never would leave while a glimmer was there.
By her care I 'm alive now ; — but what retribution
The chance-rooted tree that by way-sides is planted, Where no friendly hand will watch o'er its young
shoots, Has less blame if in autumn, when produce is wanted, Enriched by small culture it put forth small fruits.
But that which with labor in hot-beds is reared,
THE RIDE. – Miss Lamb.
LATELY an equipage I overtook,
GENTLE RIVER. — Percy's Reliques.
GENTLE river, gentle river,
Lo! thy streams are stained with gore;
Floats along thy willowed shore.
All beside thy limpid waters,
All beside thy sands so bright, Moorish chiefs and Christian warriors
Joined in fierce and mortal fight.
Lords, and dukes, and noble princes
On thy fatal banks were slain ; Fatal banks, that gave to slaughter
All the pride and flower of Spain !
There the hero, brave Alonzo,
Full of wounds and glory died; There the fearless Urdiales
Fell a victim by his side.
Lo! where yonder Don Saavedra
Through their squadrons slow retires ; Proud Seville, his native city,
Proud Seville his worth admires.
Close behind, a renegado
Loudly shouts, with taunting cry, “ Yield thee, yield thee, Don Saavedra!
Dost thou from the battle fly?
“ Well I know thee, haughty Christian,
Long I lived beneath thy roof; Oft I've in the lists of glory
Seen thee win the prize of proof.
“ Well I know thy aged parents,
Well thy blooming bride I know ; Seven years I was thy captive,
Seven years of pain and woe.
“ May our prophet grant my wishes,
Haughty chief, thou shalt be mine; Thou shalt drink that cup of sorrow
Which I drank when I was thine.”
Like a lion turns the warrior,
Back he sends an angry glare ; Whizzing came the Moorish javelin,
Vainly whizzing, through the air.
Back the hero, full of fury,
Sent a deep and mortal wound; Instant sunk the renegado
Mute and lifeless on the ground.
With a thousand Moors surrounded,
Brave Saavedra stands at bay; Wearied out, but never daunted,
Cold at length the warrior lay.
Near him fighting, great Alonzo
Stout resists the paynim bands ;
Firm intrenched behind him stands.
Furious press the hostile squadron,
Furious he repels their rage ; Loss of blood at length enfeebles ;
Who can war with thousands wage!
Where yon rock the plain o'ershadows,
Close beneath its foot retired, Fainting sunk the bleeding hero,
And without a groan expired.
NOSE AND EYES. — Cowper.
BETWEEN Nose and Eyes a strange contest arose ;
The spectacles set them unhappily wrong;
To which the said spectacles ought to belong.
So the Tongue was the lawyer, and argued the cause
With a great deal of skill, and a wig full of learning; While Chief-justice Ear sat to balance the laws,
So famed for his talent in nicely discerning.
“ In behalf of the Nose, it will quickly appear,
Which amounts to possession time out of mind.”
Then holding the spectacles up to the court, —
Designed to sit close to it, just like a saddle.
“ Again, would your Lordship a moment suppose
('T is a case that has happened, and may be again) That the visage or countenance had not a Nose,
Pray who would or who could wear spectacles then?
“On the whole it appears, and my argument shows,
With a reasoning the court will never condemn, That the spectacles plainly were made for the Nose,
And the Nose was as plainly intended for them.”