A. Phillips

“ Support the weak, and succour the distrest;
Direct the wand’rer, dry the widow’s tear;
The orphan guard, the sinking spirits cheer.
Tho’ small our pow’r to act, tho’ mean our skill,
God sees the heart;—he judges by the will. ”

“ Fall you will, if you twirl yourself round.
Oh dear! what a noise:—will a noise make it well?
Will crying wash bruises away?
Suppose that it should bleed a little, and swell,
’Twill all be gone down in a day.
That’s right; be a man, love, and dry up your tears,
Come, smile, and I’ll give you a kiss;
If you live in the world but a very few years,
You must bear greater troubles than this.
[Pg 15]
A WALK TO THE MEADOWS.
We’ll go to the meadow, where cowslips do grow,
And buttercups looking as yellow as gold ”