For know, (whoe'er thou art that read'ft his Fate, Wife, Children, Parents, he refign'd them all; The Hour draws near---But what are Hours to me? Hours, Days, and Years hence undiftinguish'd flee! Time, and his Glass unheeded pass away, Abforb'd, and loft in one vaft Flood of Day! On Freedom's Wings my Soul is borne on high, And foars exulting to it's native Sky! FINI S. WEST BRITON, BEING A COLLECTION OF POEM S, ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. Thomas Grady Unhappy wit like most mistaken things, Atones not for that envy which it brings, Sure fome to vex, but never all to please, 'Tis what the vicious fear, the virtuous fhun, By fools 'tis hated, and by knaves undone. POPE. Dublin 3 Printed by Graisberry and Campbell, FOR BERNARD DORNIN, 108, GRAFTON-STREET. 1 |