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BOYS OF SWITZERLAND. Our cot was shelter'd by a wood, And near a lake's green margin stood; A mountain bleak behind us frown'd, Whose top the snow in summer crown'd. But pastures rich and warm to boot, Lay smiling at the mountain's foot; There first ye frolick'd hand in hand, Two infant boys of Switzerland. When scarcely old enough to know The meaning of a tale of wo, 'Twas then by mother we were told That father in his grave lay cold; That livelihoods were bard to get, And we too young to labor yet; And tears within her eyes did stand, For her two boys of Switzerland. But soon for mother, as we grew, We work'd as much as boys could do; Our daily gains to her we bore:But ah! she'll ne'er receive them more. For long we watch'd beside her bed, Then sobb’d to see her lie there dead: And now we wander hand in hand; Two orphan boys of Switzerland.



INDEED my simple tale is true,

A farm my father had,
And labor'd hard to make it do,

For it was small and bad;
And labor too was mother's joy,

Nor idle I, the farmer's boy,

My father died,-affairs went wrong,

And mother lost the farm;
Nor did she live to grieve it long,

Or shelter me from harm;
And now distress'd without employ,

An orphan see the farmer's boy!
0, I can drive the team at plough,

From corn the birds can keep;
To help at harvesting know how,

And how to tend the sheep:
In charity, then, give employ,

And save from want, the farmer's boy.

THE MILLER. In a plain pleasant cottage, conveniently neat, With & mill and some meadows,-a freehold estate ; A well meaning miller, by labor supplies, Those blessings that grandeur to great ones denies; No passions to plague him, no cares to torment; His constant companions are health and content; Their lordships in lace may remark, if they will, He's honest though daub'd with the dust of his mill Ere the lark's early carols salute the new day, He springs from his cottage as jocund as May; He cheerfully whistles, regardless of care, Or sings the last ballad he bought at the fair. While courtiers are toiled in the cobwebs of state, Or bribing elections in hopes to be great; No fraud or ambition his bosom does fill, Contented he works, if there's grist for his mill. On Şunday, bedeck'd in his homespun array, At church he's the loudest to chant or to pray: He sits to a dinner of plain English food, Though simple the pudding, his appetite's good;

At night when the priest and exciseman are gone,
He quaffs at the alehouse with Roger and John;
Then reels to his pillow and dreams of no ill;
No monarch more blest than the man of the mill.

Devoid of all care was my morning of life,

Friends and traffic fulfilled each desire;
As true and as good as she's fair was my wife,
And my babes lisped the joy of their sire.

And my babes &c.
But misfortune, dire spectre! my hopes did depress,

And villiany injured my fame;
My credit, once great, every moment grew less,
And friendship I found but a name.

And friendship, &c.
The hard-hearted creditor view'd my distress,

His soul was ne'er formed to relieve;
He plunged me alas ! in a prison's recess,
Depriv’d of all sense but to grieve.

Depriv'd of &c.
No friend took the pains my dark mansion to seek,

My wife dimm'd each eye with a tear:
My children—but why of their woes should I speak?--
It drives me, alas ! to despair.

It drives me,

Sharp misery stings, famine hovers around,

The life springs of comfort are dry:
No relief for so wo-worn a wretch can be found,
But to hide his despair and—to die!

But to hide, &c


COME hither poor maiden and yield not to woe,
My cottage shall shelter thy form from the snow,
The little thatch'd cottage which yonder you see
Is mine, and poor maiden, it shall shelter thee;
Then, hasten, poor maiden, and yield not to woe,
My cottage shall shelter thy form from the snow.
Though the winds sharply freeze, they've not frozen

my heart;
I am poor, bút thou shalt of my bread share a part;
My children to thee shall be tender and kind;
I've taught them compassion, poor maiden, thou'lt find.

Then, hasten, poor maiden, &c.
My dame, worthy creature, will welcome her guest,
For tender compassion resides in her breast,
Down her cheeks often flow sensibility's tears
When the tale of the orphan or wand'rer she hears.

Then, hasten, poor maiden, &c.
Though fortune her comforts around me has shed,
And the clouds of misfortune have burst o'er thy head,
We're one by creation, and thou, too, shall share
My cottage, my comforts, and my humble fare.

Then hasten, poor maiden, &c.

THE WORLD'S DECEIT. "T18 said the joys which childhood knows, no future

age can bring, For every path is strewed with flow'rs, when liso is in

its spring: And fondly men regret the days, they ne'er again shall But I can scarce regret their loss, they never bloom'd . for me!


When youth the flattering spell receives, of love from

woman's heart; He cannot, will not, think how soon, those rainbow

dreams depart. It is indeed, a fairer show, that steals away the mind But oh! to lift the veil and see, the hollowness behind! Around the sons of wealth and pow'r, some glittering

phantoms play: Are these the friends to soothe in age-to cherish in de


No! when the star of fortune sets, their faithless hearts

recoil, They leave the wretch alone to weep, or revel in his

spoil! Thus man must still repose upon, some visionary stay, Entwine his spirit round a shade,

and feel it shrink away: But when from ev'ry earthly joy, the fainting soul is

riven, In mercy spare the thread,on which he hangs his hopes

of heaven.

Come over the mountains, my bonny Swiss boy,
And haste to thy labor away.
Come over,

And haste, &e.
The sun now shows his rosy beams,
The flocks are basting to the streams,

Come over, &c.

And haste, &c.
You will find me, you'll find me a happy Swim boy,
As I trip o'er the hills, far away,

You will find, &c.
As I trip, &c.

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