;; Jff

,6 RURAL SPORTS.

With secret joy (he sees her little race

Hang on her breast, and her small cottage grace;

The fleecy ball their little fingers cull,

Or Horn the spindle draw the lengthningwool:Thus flow her hours with constant peace of mind,Till age the latest thread of life unwind.

Ye happy fields, unknown to noise and strife,The kind rewarders of industrious life;

Ye shady woods, where once I us’d to rove;

Alike indulgent to the muse and love;

Ye murm’ring streams that in Maeanders roll,The sweet composers of the pensive foul,

Farewel.-the city calls me from yourbow’rs:

Farewel amusing thoughts and peaceful hours.