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(At ease reclin'd in rustic state) How vain the ardour of the Crowd, How low, how little are the Proud,

How indigent the Great!

Still is the toiling hand of Care;

The panting herds repose :
Yet hark, how through the peopled air

The busy murmur glows !
The insect youth are on the wing,
Eager to taste the honied spring,

And float amid the liquid noon :*
Some lightly o'er the current skim,
Some show their gaily-gilded trim

Quick-glancing to the sun.t

To Contemplation's sober eyet

Such is the race of Man :
And they that creep, and they that fly,

Shall end where they began.
Alike the Busy and the Gay
But flutter through Life's little day,

In Fortune’s varying colours dress'd :
Brush'd by the hand of rough Mischance,
Or chill'd by Age, their airy dance

They leave, in dust to rest.

*Nare per æstatem liquidam

Virgil Georg. lib. 4.

t - sporting with quiek glance,
Show to the sun their way'd coats dropt with gold.

Milton's Paradise Lost, book 7.

* While insects from the threshold preach, &e.

M. Green, in the Grotto.

Methinks I hear, in accents low,

The sportive kind reply:
Poor Moralist ! and what art thou?

A solitary fly!
Thy joys no glittring female meets,
No hive bast thou of hoarded sweets,

No painted plumage to display:
On hasty wings thy youth is flown ;
Thy sun is set, thy spring is gone--

We frolic while 'tis May.




"I'was on a lofty vase's side, Where China's gayest art had dy'd

The azure flowers, that blow ; Demurest of the tabby kind, The pensive Selima, reclin'd,

Gaz'd on the lake below.

Her conscious tail her joy declar'd;
The fair round face, the snowy beard,

The velvet of her paws,
Her coat, that with the tortoise view,
Her ears of jet, and emerald eyes,

She saw ; and purr'd applause.

still had she gaz'd; but midst the tido I'wo angel forms were seen to glide,

The Genii of the stream:
Their scaly armour's Tyrian hue
Through riches purple to the view

Betray'd a golden gleam.

The hapless Nymph with wonder saw :
A whisker first, and then a claw,

With many an ardent wish,
She stretch'd, in vain, to reach the prize,
What female heart can gold despise ?

What cat's averse to fish?

Presumptuous Maid! with looks intent
Again she stretch'd, again she bent,

Nor knew the gulf between:
(Malignant Fate sat by, and smild)
The slippery verge her feet beguil'd,

She tumbled headlong in.

Eight times emerging from the flood,
She mew'd to ev'ry wat’ry god,

Some speedy aid to send.
No Dolphin came, no Nereid stirr'd:
Nor cruel Tom, nor Susan heard.

A Fav'rite has no friend!

From hence, ye Beauties, undeceiv'd,
Know, one false step is ne'er retriev'd,

And be with caution bold.
Not all that tempts your wand'ring eyes
And heedless hearts, is lawful prize;

Nor all that glisters gold.




Ανθρωπος ικανη προφασις εις το δυςυχων.


Yx distant spires, ye antique towers,

That crown the wat'ry glade,
Where grateful Science still adores

Her HENRY's holy shade ;*
And ye, that from the stately brow
Of Windson's heights the expanse below

Of grove, of lawn, of mead survey,
Whose turf, whose shade, whose flowers among
Wanders the hoary Thames along

Ilis silver winding way :

Ah, happy hills! ah, pleasing shade!

Ah, fields belov'd in vain!
Where once my careless childhood stray'd,

A stranger yet to pain!
I feel the gules that from ye blow
A momentary bliss bestow,

As waving fresh their gludsome wing,
My weary soul they seem to sooth,
And, redolent of joy and youth,

'To breathe a second spring.

• King Honry the Sixth, founder of the Collego.
† And bees their honey redolent of spring.

Dryden', l'able on the Pythag. Systeme Vol. XXIX.

Say, Father Thames, for thou hast seen

Full many a sprightly race
Disporting on thy margent green

The paths of pleasure trace ;
Who foremost now delight to cleave,
With pliant arm thy glassy wave?

The captive linnet which enthral?
What idle progeny succeed
To chase the rolling circle's speed,

Or urge the flying ball ?

While some on earnest business bent

Their murm'ring labours ply 'Gainst graver hours, that bring constraint

To sweeten liberty:
Some bold adventurers disdain
The limits of their little reign,

And unknown regions dare descry:
Still as they run they look behind,
They hear a voice in every wind,

And snatch a fearful joy.

Gay hope is theirs by fancy fed,

Less pleasing when possess'd; The tear forgot as soon as shed,

The sunshine of the breast : Theirs buxom Health, of rosy hue, Wild Wit, Invention ever-new,

And lively Cheer, of Vigour born ; The thoughtless day, the easy night, The spirits pure, the slumbers light,

That fly the approach of morn.

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