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Poetry. THE EFFECTS OF SEDUCTION

OR, THE
. Fair Outcast. , .
A WINTER-PIECE.
From the Lady's Magazine.

"Ah! little think the gay licentious proud.'

THE night was dark, the wind blew cold,

And not a twinkling star was seen ;
The flaky snow came drifting down,

And chill’d the heart of Magdaline.
She clasp'd her infant to her breast,

Its plaintive cries increas'd her grief;
And quick she pac'd the frozen moor

In eager hope to gain relief.
But, ah! no kindly aid 'was nigh,

No homely cottage cheer'd her sight;
And vain she sought, with eager eye,

Some glimmering taper's welcome light.
Her frozen limbs began to fail, .

Her infant's cries were fainter grown;
She sank upon the snow-clad ground,

And thus began her plaintive moan.
Why did I leave my native vale,

And fly to seek some gayer scene?
Why did I leave my aged sire
. To weep the fate of Magdaline ?
My youthful inexperienc'd heart

The gay ANSELMO stole away,
And taught me by his winning art

From Virtue's flowery paths to stray.

He prais'd my beauteous shape and face;

He prais'd my air and graceful mien; He said the court I soon should grace,

And be his lovely Magdaline. My foolish heart believ'd the tale,

And fondly own'd him for its lord ; I fled and left my parents dear,

To weep the child they so ador'd.

But when I found his vows were false,

And I, deluded, was undone ; I took my helpless infant boy,

And sought th' abode of vice to shun.

Too soon I reach'd my native cot,

And found my father was no more: My mother curs’d her hapless child,

And spurn'd me from my parent's door,

My freezing heart forgets to beat,

I feel the pangs of death are nigh; Thy mother has no food to give,

My child, my child ! thou too must die. Thy little limbs are stiff with cold,

And thou hast no more strength to cry ; I'll lay thee on my aching breast,

And on this snow-clad heap we'll die.'

She press'd the baby to her heart,

Then laid her down amid the snow; And, with a gentle sigh, resigned

A life of misery and woe.

Take heed, ye fair! who read this tale;

Beware of man's delusive wiles; He only flatters to betray,

And poison lurks beneath his smiles.

Ye, too, who rich in fortune's gifts,

Are now what she so late had been, Take warning by her hapless doom,

And shun the fate of Magdaline.

The Old Man's comforts, and how he

gained them.

6.VOU are old, father William," the young man cried,

· “ T'he few locks that are left you are grey; * You are hale, father William, a hearty old man;

“ Now tell me the reason, I pray.” - In the days of my youth,” father William replied,

“ I remember'd that youth would fly fast, * And abus'd not my health and my vigour at first,

“ That I never might need them at last.”

* You are old, father William," the young man cried,

" And pleasures with youth pass away, * And yet you lament not the days that are gone;

“Now tell me the reason, I pray.” * In the days of my youth,” father William replied,

" I remember'd that youth could not last; To I thought of the future, whatever I did,

“ That I never might grieve for the past.”

" You are old, father William,” the young man cried,

" And life must be hast'ning away : "You are cheerful, and love to converse upon death;

“Now tell me the reason, I pray.”

I am cheerful, young man," father William replied,

“Let the cause thy attention engage; " In the days of my youth I remember'd my God,

" And he hath not forgotten my age.'

NOTES TO CORRESPONDENTS. The favours of H. and JUVENILE, are received, also, the hints from BENEVOLUS, but the latter has forgotten to pay the post age. Philo JUVENIS, we have no doubt, will be gratified to observe that w have anticipated him in some of his hints.

HADDINGTON: Printed and Published, MONTHLY, by G. MILLER & SON

[graphic]

“Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife,

Their sober wishes never learnt to stray ;
Along the cool sequester'd vale of life

They kept the noiseless tenor of their way."

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THE

COTTAGE ON THE MOOR;

History of a Labouring Man.

OR, THE

"Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright, for the end of that

man is peace." ONE day, toward the approach of winter, a gentleman, by name Mr EDWARDS, happened to be passing through a desert part of the country, on his way to a town at some distance. He was overtaken by a storm of snow, and observing a cottage not far off, he rode up to it for shelter. The door was opened by an old man, who tak*ing the bridle in his hand, led the horse to an adjoining shed, and desired Mr Edwards to go, in the mean time, into the cottage. There was a small fire of peats on the Vol. I.

hearth;

hearth ; near it, in a corner, was placed an ancient elbowchair; a plain fir table stood in the middle of the floor, and the dwelling, though one of the meanest, had over the whole of it an air of decency and good order. An old family bible was lying on the table, open, and with a pair of spectacles beside it. . .

When the old man came in, he added a few peats to the fire, drew a chair towards it, and invited Mr Ed. wards to sit down. The latter thanked him for his civility, and while he enjoyed the shelter and the cheerful blaze, could not help reflecting how many of the real comforts of life may be enjoyed under the humblest roof. The storm continued with unabated violence, the wind howling along the waste, and the snow drifting against the walls of the cottage. Mr Edwards, glad of the covert, was in no haste to remove, and he felt a growing attachment to the cottager, whom he found to be a plain, cheerful, and intelligent old man. His name was John Meadows. He was upwards of seventy years of age. Through the greatest part of his life he had been a day-labourer, but being now infirm, he was able only to cultivate a small piece of garden ground which lay at the back of his cottage. His wife, to whom he had been married near forty years, was still alive, and was bis sole and faithful companion in this retirement. At the time of Mr Edward's arrival she happened to be from home, have ing gone to purchase some necessaries for the family at a village about four miles off.

You must find your situation here very lonely, said Mr Edwards. It is a lone place, replied the old man, but we are both of us well up in years, and we like a quiet life. “We have a house that shelters us and keeps as warm, and the young folks are now and then step

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