The New Comer.

The Miller from a Market Town hard by,

Brought home a sturdy Youth his strength to try,

To raise the sluice-gates early every morn,

To heave his powder'd sacks and grind his corn:

And meeting Phoebe, whom he lov'd so dear,

‘ I've brought you home a Husband, Girl?— D'ye hear?

He begg'd for work; his money seem'd but scant:

Those that will work‘ tis pity they should want.

So use him well, and we shall shortly see

Whether he merits what I've done, like thee.’

Now throbb'd her heart,— a new sensation

Whene'er the comely Stranger was in right:

For he at once assiduously strove.

To please so sweet a Maid, and win her love.

At every corner stopp'd her in her way;

And saw fresh beauties opening ev'ry day;

He took delight in tracing in her face

The mantling blush, and every nameless grace,