Globe.

He says, "I have endeavour'd to bring it back to my mind: but can only
remember the following; which is not the beginning nor the finish."

Round LYBIA'S south point, where from toils so late freed,
Sweet Hope cheer'd my soul as we clear'd the rough sea;
I strove midst the Tars to improve the ship's speed;
Nor thought I of aught but ANNA and THEE.

Here comes the dear Girl! comes with kind arms extended
To welcome me!... limbs numb'd with age fain would move.
My cheek feels the offspring of rapture warm blended,
With answering drops:... this the meed of chaste Love!

Rouse the Fire--

* * * * *

I think every Reader will be of opinion that it is indeed desirable the
whole Song, of which this is a Fragment, should be recover'd. It will
probably be found (according to the recollection of the Author) either in
the _General Advertiser, Gazetteer_, or _Courant_. From these specimens,
and some I have since had the pleasure to see in MS. Mr. BLOOMFIELD
appears fully to possess the simple, yet elegant, pathetic, and animated
flow of Composition, the sweetness of Diction, Thought, and Numbers, which
the SONG or BALLAD in their best character require.

I now quote a little Fragment in _blank verse_ from the same Letter: with
a slight correction in a place or two where the distribution or mechanism