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Hath not

t your God impressively made known

His sovereign will: bidding your

bosoms swell

With the salubrious fluid, when alone

Your beauteous offspring, needs their milky streams.

Lage

26_Line 17

WITH

OTHER POEMS.

By HENRY SMITHERS,

=

OF THE ADELPHI.

Though my distracted senses should forfake me,
I'd find some intervals when my poor heart
Should 'swage itself, and be let loose to thine.
Though the bare earth be all our resting place,
Its roots our food, some clift our habitation,

I'll make this arm a pillow for thine head,

And as thou sighing liest, and swell'd with sorrow,

Creep to thy bosom, pour the balm of love

Into thy soul, and kiss thee to thy rest;

Then praise our God, and watch thee till the morning.

OTWAY.

LONDON:

PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR,

By T. Bensley, Bolt Court;

AND SOLD BY WILLIAM MILLER, ALBEMARLE STREET;

AND MESS. ARCH, CORNHILL.

1807.

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TO

HER ROYAL HIGHNESS

The Princess

CHARLOTTE AUGUSTA

OF WALES,

THESE POEMS

ARE

RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED,

BY

THE AUTHOR.

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