nd  ier to a patriot. But I o lose a fine idea from my mind. timents, and poetical delicacies of cer, scattered all over te of some stiffness and encumberment), justify to me ter er. I cannot tic, t Sir P opprobrious t ility co term o mind tapo guide me to juster ts of iful lines in t;Friends Passion for rop; printed hers.

    You knerophel?

    (t I so say I knew,

    And  in possession still!) --

    t me to renew --

    Of  such,

    I cannot Say -- you oo much.

    ithese woods of Arcady

    and pleasure took;

    And on tain Partheny,

    Upon tal liquid brook,

    t him every day,

    t taugo e, and say.

    ,

    divine:

    A t count

    Upon his lovely chearful eyne.

    to ly smile,

    You he while,

    A s attractive kind of grace;

    A full assurance given by looks;

    Continual comfort in a face,

    ts of Gospel books --

    I tro countnance cannot lye,

    s are legible in the eye.

    *****

    Above all othis is he,

    approved in his song,

    t love and  agree,

    And t pure love will do no wrong.

    S Saints, it is no Sin or blame

    to love a man of virtuous name.

    Did never Love so sly breathe

    In any mortal breast before:

    Did never Muse inspire beneath

    A Poets brain ore.

    e of Love ,

    And beauty reard above .

    Or let any one read to rage) in t in tion accompanying ternal testimony I believe to be Lord Brookes, -