SONG. The gloomy night is gathering fast, The autumn mourns her ripening corn 'Tis not the surging billow's roar, Farewell! old Coila's hills and dales, Farewell, my friends! Farewell, my foes! Cowper. THE INFIDEL AND THE CHRISTIAN. THE path to bliss abounds with many a snare; (Mention him if you please. Voltaire ?-The same.) With spirit, genius, eloquence, supplied, Lived long, wrote much, laughed heartily, and died. And fumed with frankincense on every side, |