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THE STAG HUNT.
THE f-veet rofy morning peeps over the hills, With bluflies adorning the meadows and fields ; The merry merry merry merry horn,, calls come
come come away, Awake from your (lumber and hail the new day.
The flag rouf 'd before us away feems to fly, And pants to the chorus of hounds in full cry ; Then follow follow follow the mufical chace, Where pleafure and vigour with health you embrace,
The day's fport when over makes blood circle right, And gives the brilk lover frefh charms for the night : Then let us now enjoy all we can w.hile we may, Let love crown the night as our fports crown the day.
��WHEN THE TREES ARE ALL BARE.
"HEN the trees are all bare, not a leaf to be feen,
And the meadows their beauty have loft; When nature's difrob'd of her mantle of green, And the itreams are fafi bound by the froft.
While the peafant inactive ftands fhivering with cold,
As bleak the winds northerly biow, And the innocent nock run for eafe to the fold,
With their fleeces befprinkled with fnow.
In the yard when the cattle are fodder'd with ftraw, And they fend forth their breath like a fleam;
And the neat looking dairy-maid fees file muft thaw Flakes of ice that ftie finds on the cream.
Whent
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