AND RETIRING TO A COUNTRY CURACY.

Farewell! a long farewell! O Poverty,

Affection's fondest dream how hast thou reft!

But though, on thy stern brow no trace is left

Of youthful joys, that on the cold heart die,

With thee a sad companionship I seek,

Content, if poor;— for patient wretchedness,

Tearful, but uncomplaining of distress,

Who turns to the rude storm her faded cheek;

And Piety, who never told her wrong;

And calm Content, whose griefs no more rebel;

And Genius, warbling sweet, his saddest song,

When evening listens to some village knell,—

Long banished from the world's insulting throng;—

With thee, and thy unfriended children dwell.