Various

“ Near yonder copse, where once the garden smil'd,
And still where many a garden flow'r grows wild,
There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose,
The village preacher's modest mansion rose.
A man he was to all the country dear,
And passing rich with forty pounds a year;
Remote from towns he ran his godly race,
Nor e'er had chang'd, nor wish'd to change his place;
Unskilful he to fawn, or seek for pow'r,
By doctrines fashioned to the varying hour;
Far other aims his heart had learn'd to prize,
More bent to raise the wretched than to rise. ”

“ He hears the gay, and the distressful call,
And with unsparing bounty fills them all.
Observe the rising lily's snowy grace;
Observe the various vegetable race;
They neither toil, nor spin, but careless grow ”

“ And left them both exclaiming, 'T'was the Lord'!
Did not our hearts feel all he deign'd to say.
Did they not burn within us by the way?
London, Published by R. Miller, Old Fish Street, Doctors Commons.
No. 23.
A COUNTRY PROSPECT.
Sir Richd Hill.
While all thy glories, O my God!
Thro the creation shine ”