The New Comer.

The Miller from a Market Town hard by, Brought home a sturdy Youth his strength to try, To raise the sluice-gates early every morn, To heave his powder'd sacks and grind his corn: And meeting Phoebe, whom he lov'd so dear, 'I've brought you home a Husband, Girl?—D'ye hear? He begg'd for work; his money seem'd but scant: Those that will work 'tis pity they should want. So use him well, and we shall shortly see Whether he merits what I've done, like thee.'

Now throbb'd her heart,—a new sensation Whene'er the comely Stranger was in right: For he at once assiduously strove. To please so sweet a Maid, and win her love. At every corner stopp'd her in her way; And saw fresh beauties opening ev'ry day; He took delight in tracing in her face The mantling blush, and every nameless grace,