P 0 E'M S, bco. 469 SONG. On MAY MORNING. NoW the bright morning (tar, day's harbinger, Comes dancing from the eat}, and leads with her The flow'ry May, who from her green lap throws The yellow cowflip, and the pale primrofe. Hail bounteous May that dolt infpire Mirth and youth and warm defire ; Woods and groves are of thy dreffing, Hill and dale doh boat} thy bleffi T. Thus we falute thee with our early fong, And welcome thee, and with thee long. 5 On the UNIVi RSITY CARRIER, who ficken'd in the time of hs vacancy, being forbid to go to London, by reason of the plague. HERE lies old Hobfon ; Death hath broke his girt, And here alas, bath laid him in the dirt, Or elfe the ways being foul, twenty to one, He's here (luck in a flough, and overthrown. 'Twas fuch a fhifter, that if truth were known, Death was half glad when he had got him down ; For he had any time this ten years full, Dodg'd with him, betwixt Cambridge and the Bull. And furely Death could never have prevail'd, Had not his weekly courfe of carriage faii'd ; But lately finding him fo long at home, And thinking now his journey's end was come, And that he had ta'en up his latett In the kind office of a Chamberlin 74 Show'd him his room where he mull lodge that night, Pull'd off his boots, and took away the light : If any aIk for him, it dull be faid, Hobfon has fupt, and's newly gone to bed: Another 5 I0
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