Sorrow's Faded Form, And Solitude Behind.

I Shall Be But A Shrimp Of An Author.

No Further Seek His Merits To Disclose, Or Draw His Frailties From Their Dread Abode (there They Alike In Trembling Hope Repose), The Bosom Of His Father And His God.

What Female Heart Can Gold Despise? What Cat 's Averse To Fish?

Fair Laughs The Morn, And Soft The Zephyr Blows, While Proudly Rising O'er The Azure Realm In Gallant Trim The Gilded Vessel Goes, Youth On The Prow, And Pleasure At The Helm.

The Insect-youth Are On The Wing, Eager To Taste The Honied Spring, And Float Amid The Liquid Noon!