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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