Selections
... ?? Aclectiond. TO J. S., ON THE DEATH OF HIS BROTHER. (BY ALPISSD TEIsrs01.) Gol gives us love. Something to love He lends us; but, when love Is grown To riponess, that on which it throve Falls off, and love is left alone. This is the curs of time. Alas I In grief I am not all unlearned; Once thro, mine own doors death did pass; One wont who never hath roturn'd. He will not smile-nor speak to ...