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Ah, me! when shall I marry me?
Lovers are plenty; but fail to relieve me.
He, fond youth, that could carry me,
Offers to love, but means to deceive me.

* Sir, I send you a small production of the late Dr. Goldsmith, which has never been published, and which might perhaps have been totally lost, had I rot secured it. He intended it as a song in the character of Miss Hard. castle, in his admirable comedy of “ She Stoops to Con

quer,” but it was left out, as Mrs. Bulkley, who play'd the part, did not fing. He sung it himself, in private companies very agreeably. The tune is a pretty Irish air, called “ The Humours of Balamagairy,” to which he told me he found it very difficult to adapt words; but he has succeeded very happily in these few lines. As I could

1

fing

VOL. I.

But I will rally and combat the ruiner :
Not a look, not a smile shall my passion discover.
She that gives all to the false one pursuing her,
Makes but a penitent, and loses a lover.

sing the tune, and was fond of them, he was so good as to give me them, about a year ago, just as I was leaving London, and bidding him adieu for that season, little ap. prehending that it was a last farewel. I preserve this little relic, in his own hand writing, with an affectionate care. I am, Sir, Your humble servant,

JAMES Boswell.

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In these bold times, when Learning's fons explore,
The distant climates, and the savage shore ;
When wise astronomers to India fteer,
And quit for Venus many a brighter here;
While botanists, all cold to smiles and dimpling,
Forsake the fair, and patiently-go fimpling.
Our bard into the general spirit enters,
And fits his little frigate for adventures.

With

I 2

With Scythian stores, and trinkets deeply laden,
He this way steers his course, in hopes of trading-
Yet ere he lands he'as order'd me before,
To make an observation on the shore.
Where are we driven ? our reckoning sure is loft!
This seems a rocky and a dangerous coaft.
Lord, what a sultry climate am I under!
Yon ill-foreboding cloud seems big with thunder:

(Upper gallery.) There mangroves spread, and larger than I've seen'em

(Pit.) Here trees of stately fize--and billing turtles in 'em

(Balconies.) Here ill conditioned oranges abound (Stage.) And apples, oitier apples strew the ground:

[Tafting them.
The inhabitants are canibals I fear:
I heard a hilling-there are serpents here!
O, there the people are best keep my distance ;
Our Captain (gentle natives) craves assistance ;
Our ship's well stor'd-in yonder creek we've laid

her,
His honour is no mercenary trader,
This is his first adventure, lend him aid,
And we may chance to drive a thriving trade.

His

His goods, he hopes, are prime, and brought from

far,

Equally fit for gallantry and war.
What, no reply to promises so ample ?

I'd best step back-and order up a sample.

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