While intellectual objects share
Your mind's extensive view, you bear,
Quite free from spleen's incumb'ring load,
The little evils on the road--
So, while the path of life I tread,
A path to me with briers spread;
Let me its tangled mazes spy
Like you, with gay, good-humour'd eye;
Nor at those thorny tracts repine,
The treasure of your friendship, mine.
Grange Hill, Essex.
PART
OF AN
IRREGULAR [Transcriber's note: Original "IRREGULAL"] FRAGMENT,
FOUND IN A
DARK PASSAGE OF THE TOWER.
ADVERTISEMENT.
The following Poem is formed on a very singular and sublime idea. A
young gentleman, possessed of an uncommon genius for drawing, on
visiting the Tower of London, passing one door of a singular
construction, asked what apartment it led to, and expressed a desire to
have it opened. The person who shewed the place shook his head, and
answered, "Heaven knows what is within that door--it has been shut for
ages."--This answer made small impression on the other hearers; but a
very deep one on the imagination of this youth.
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