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THE

FAMILIAR POEMS

OF

ROBERT LLOYD, A. M.

WHEN foes insult, and prudent friends dispense,
In pity's strains, the worst of insolence,
Oft with thee, Lloyd, I steal an hour from grief,
And in thy social converse find relief.
Perplex'd with trifles through the vale of life,
Man strives 'gainst man, without a cause for strife;
Armies embattled meet, and thousands bleed
For some vile spot, where fifty cannot feed.
Squirrels for nuts contend, and, wrong or right,
For the world's empire kings ambitious fight.
What odds !---to us 'tis all the self-same thing,
A nut, a world, a squirrel, and a king,

CHURCHILL'S NIGHT, p. 101 and 108.

A NEW EDITION.

LONDON:

PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES, AND ORME,

NO. 39, PATERNOSTER-ROW.

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WILLIAM HENRY WEST BETTY;

WHO, FROM THE EXCELLENCY OF HIS

DRAMATIC PERFORMANCES,

HAS JUSTLY ACQUIRED THE NAME OF

THE YOUNG ROSCIUS:

THIS NEW EDITION OF THE

POEMS OF ROBERT LLOYD, A. M.

IN WHICH THE

PERFECTION OF THE SCENIC ART

IS SO ABLY DELINEATED,

IN THE AUTHOR'S ADMIRED POEM OF

THE ACTOR,

IS MOST RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED,

BY

THE EDITOR.

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