For him the sun its power displays,
In either hemisphere;

Pours on Virginia's coast its blaze,
Tobacco for his pipe to raise ;
And shines to light it-here!

EPIGRAM.

QUOCUNQUE MODO REM.

A VETERAN gambler in a tempest caught,
Once in his life, a church's shelter sought;
Where many an hint, pathetically grave,
On life's precarious lot, the preacher gave.
The sermon ended, and the storm all spent,
Home trudg'd old Cog-die, reasoning as he went;
"Strict truth," quoth he, "this reverend sage de-
clar'd;

"I feel conviction-and will be prepar'd

"Nor e'er henceforth, since life thus steals away, "Give credit for a bet, beyond a day!"

JOHN BAMPFYLDE.

BORN 1754.-DIED 1796.

JOHN BAMPFYLDE was the younger brother of Sir Charles Bampfylde. He was educated at Cambridge, and published his sonnets* when very young. He soon after fell into mental derangement; and is said to have past the last years of his life in confinement.

* Censura Literaria, vol. iv. p. 301.

SELECT POEMS.

SONNET.

As when, to one, who long hath watch'd the morn Advancing, slow forewarns the' approach of day, (What time the young and flow'ry-kirtled May Decks the green hedge, and dewy grass unshorn With cowslips pale, and many a whitening thorn;) And now the sun comes forth, with level ray Gilding the high-wood top, and mountain grey; And, as he climbs, the meadows 'gins adorn; The rivers glisten to the dancing beam,

The' awaken'd birds begin their amorous strain, And hill and vale with joy and fragrance teem; Such is the sight of thee; thy wish'd return To eyes, like mine, that long have wak'd to mourn, That long have watch'd for light, and wept in vain!

SONNET.

TO MR. JACKSON OF EXETER.

THOUGH Winter's storms embrown the dusky vale, And dark and wistful wanes the low'ring year; Though bleak the moor, forlorn the cots, appear, And through the hawthorn sighs the sullen gale;