As MISTRESS GURTON heard the thief, She started from her easy chair, And, quite unmindful of her grief, Began aloud to swear! “Curse that voracious beast!” she cried, “Here SUSAN, bring a cord— I’ll hang the vicious, ugly creature— The veriest plague e’er form’d by nature!” And MISTRESS GURTON kept her word— And Poor GRIMALKIN—DIED! Thus, often, we with anguish sore The _dead_, in clam’rous grief deplore; Who, were they once _alive_ again Would meet the sting of cold disdain! For FRIENDS, whom trifling faults can sever, Are _valued most_, WHEN LOST FOR EVER! _The LASCAR._ _IN TWO PARTS._ I. “Another day, Ah! me, a day “Of dreary Sorrow is begun! “And still I loathe the temper’d ray, “And still I hate the sickly Sun! “Far from my Native Indian shore, “I hear our wretched race deplore; “I mark the smile of taunting Scorn, “And curse the hour, when I was born! “I weep, but no one gently tries “To stop my tear, or check my sighs; “For, while my heart beats mournfully, “Dear Indian home, I sigh for Thee! II. “Since, gaudy Sun! I see no more “Thy hottest glory gild the day; “Since, sever’d from my burning shore, “I waste the vapid hours away; “O! darkness come! come, deepest gloom! “Shroud the young Summer’s op’ning bloom; “Burn, temper’d Orb, with fiercer beams “This northern world! and drink the streams “That thro’ the fertile vallies glide “To bathe the feasted Fiends of Pride! “Or, hence, broad Sun! extinguish’d be! “For endless night encircles Me! III. “What is, to me, the City gay? “And what, the board profusely spread? “I have no home, no rich array, “No spicy feast, no downy bed! “I, with the dogs am doom’d to eat, “To perish in the peopled street, “To drink the tear of deep despair; “The scoff and scorn of fools to bear! “I sleep upon a bed of stone, “I pace the meadows, wild—alone! “And if I curse my fate severe, “Some Christian Savage mocks my tear! IV.