friendship, and mischief allied;
How welcome once more your ne'er fading remembrance,
Which rests in the bosom, though hope is deny'd.

3.

Again I revisit the hills where we sported,
The streams where we swam, and the fields where we fought;
The school where loud warn'd by the bell we resorted,
To pore o'er the precepts by Pedagogues taught.

4.

Again I behold where for hours I have ponder'd,
As reclining at eve on yon tombstone I lay;
Or round the steep brow of the churchyard I wander'd,
To catch the last gleam of the sun's setting ray.

5.

I once more view the room with spectators surrounded,
Where as Zanga I trod on Alonzo o'erthrown;
While to swell my young pride such applauses resounded,
I fancied that MOSSOP[5] himself was outshone.

6.

Or as Lear I pour'd for the deep imprecation,
By my daughters of kingdom and reason depriv'd:
Till fir'd by loud plaudits, and self adulation,
I consider'd myself as a _Garrick_ reviv'd.

7.

Ye dreams of my boyhood how much I regret you,
As your memory beams through this agoniz'd breast,
Thus sad and deserted, I ne'er can forget you,
Though this heart throbs to bursting by anguish possest.

8.

I thought this poor brain fever'd even to madness,
Of tears as of reason forever was drain'd,
But the drops which now flow down _this_ bosom of sadness,
Convince me, the springs have some moisture retain'd.

9.

Sweet scenes of my childhood! your blest recollection,
Has wrung from these eye-lids to weeping long dead,
In torrents, the tears of my warmest affection,
The last and the fondest, I ever shall shed.

[Footnote 5: MOSSOP, a cotempory of GARRICK, famous for his
performance of _Zanga_, in YOUNG's tragedy of the _Revenge_.]

* * * * *

THOUGHTS SUGGESTED BY A COLLEGE EXAMINATION.

High in the midst surrounded by his peers,
M--ns--l his ample front sublime uprears;
Plac'd on his chair of state, he seems a God,
While Sophs and Freshmen, tremble at his nod.
Whilst all around sit wrapt in speechless gloom,
_His_ voice in thunder shakes the sounding dome;
Denouncing dire reproach, to luckless fools,
Unskill'd to plod in mathematic rules.

Happy the youth! in Euclid's axioms tried,
Though little vers'd in any art beside;
Who with scarce sense to pen an _English_ letter,
Yet with precision, scans an _attic