CL. To the Same. On a temporary Es-

trangement,

450

453

Requesting the

CLI. TO JOHN SYME, Esq. Reflections on
the happiness of Mr. O,

CLII. To Miss

CLIV. To Mrs. R*****. Supposed to be

written from "The dead to the

living,"

CLV. To Mrs. DUNLOP. 15th Dec. 1795.

Reflections on the situation of his
family if he should die-praise of the
poem entitled "The Task."

CLVI. To the Same, in London. 20th Dec.

CLVII. To Mrs. R*****. 20th Jan. 1796.

458

462

465

.471

Thanks for the Travels of Anacharsis, 475

CLVIII. To Mrs. DUNLOP. 31st Jan. 1796.

Account of the Death of his Daugh-

ter, and of his own ill health,

CLIX. To Mrs. R*****. 4th June, 1796.

Apology for not going to the birth-

night assembly,

476

478

No.

Page

CLX. To Mr. CUNNINGHAM. 7th July, 1796.
Account of his illness and of his po-

verty-anticipation of his death,

CLXI. To Mr. GILBERT BURNS,

CLXII. To Mrs. BURNS.-Sea-bathing affords

479

481

483

CLXIII. To Mrs. DUNLOP. 12th July, 1796.

little relief,

Farewell thou fair day, thou green earth, and ye skies,

Go fetch to me a pint o' wine,

How does my dear friend, much I languish to hear,

How wisdom and folly meet, mix, and unite,

I look to the west when I gae to rest,
Inhuman man! curse on thy barb'rous art,

Life ne'er exulted in so rich a prize,

Like the fair plant that from our touch withdraws,
My Mary! dear departed shade!

No sculptur'd marble here, nor pompous lay,
No song nor dance I bring from yon great city,
Of all the numerous ills that hurt our peace,

O that I had ne'er been married, .

O that my father had ne'er on me smil'd,

271

254

368

239

333

223

O! why should old age so much wound us? O, .

Page

Some sing of sweet Mally, some sing of fair Nelly,

Still anxious to secure your partial favor,
The parent's heart that nestled fond in thee, .
The small birds rejoice in the green leaves returning,
Thou whom chance may hither lead,

'Tis this, my friend, that streaks our morning bright,.
When Nature her great masterpiece design'd,
While Europe's eye is fix'd on mighty things,
While soon" the garden's flaunting flowers" decay,
Wow, but your letter made me vauntie !

. 467

345

141

167

269

178

429

51

273