Imitation Of The Style Of[1] * * *

1 Hermit hoar, in solemn cell Wearing out life's evening gray, Strike thy bosom, sage, and tell What is bliss, and which the way.

2 Thus I spoke, and speaking sigh'd, Scarce repress'd the starting tear, When the hoary sage replied, 'Come, my lad, and drink some beer.'

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ONE AND TWENTY.

1 Long-expected one-and-twenty, Lingering year, at length is flown: Pride and pleasure, pomp and plenty, Great * * *, are now your own.

2 Loosen'd from the minor's tether, Free to mortgage or to sell, Wild as wind, and light as feather, Bid the sons of thrift farewell.

3 Call the Betsies, Kates, and Jennies, All the names that banish care; Lavish of your grandsire's guineas, Show the spirit of an heir.

4 All that prey on vice and folly Joy to see their quarry fly: There the gamester, light and jolly; There the lender, grave and sly.

5 Wealth, my lad, was made to wander, Let it wander as it will; Call the jockey, call the pander, Bid them come and take their fill.

6 When the bonny blade carouses, Pockets full, and spirits high-- What are acres? what are houses? Only dirt, or wet, or dry.

7 Should the guardian friend or mother Tell the woes of wilful waste: Scorn their counsel, scorn their pother, You can hang or drown at last.

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END OF JOHNSON'S POEMS.

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