'From head to foot I've not one pain;
'Nay, hang me if I cou'd 'nt jump.'

Thus spoke the ALE in RICHARD'S pate,
A very little made him mellow;
But still he lov'd his faithful KATE,
Who whisper'd thus, 'My good old fellow,

_The Departure._

'Remember what you promis'd me:
'And see, the Sun is getting low;
'The Children want an hour ye see
'To talk a bit before we go.'

Like youthful Lover most complying
He turn'd, and chuckt her by the chin:
Then all across the green grass hieing,
Right merry faces, all akin,

Their farewell quart, beneath a
That droop'd its branches from above,
Awak'd the pure felicity
That waits upon PARENTAL LOVE.

KATE view'd her blooming Daughters round,
And Sons, who shook her wither'd hand;
Her features spoke what joy she found;
But utterance had made a stand.