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The songster heard this short oration,
Hence jarring sectaries may learn
Those Christians best deserve the name, Who studiously make peace their aim; Peace, both the duty and the prize Of him that creeps and him that flies.
To joys forbidden man aspires,
Our dear delights are often such,
ON A GOLDFINCH,
STARVED TO DEATH IN HIS CAGE.
HORACE. BOOK II. ODE X.
Time was when I was free as air,
My drink the morning dew;
My strains for ever new.
And of a transient date;
Soon passed the wiry grate.
And cure of every ill;
Had been your prisoner still.
Receive, dear friend, the truths I teach,
Of adverse Fortune's power;
Along the treacherous shore.
The little and the great,
Imbittering all his state.
Comes heaviest to the ground;
And spread the ruin round.
And hopes, in spite of pain;
And Nature laughs again.
Expect a brighter sky.
And lays his arrows by.
THE PINE-APPLE AND BEE.
The pine-apples, in triple row,
Methinks, I said, in thee I find
If hindrances obstruct thy way,
Sed fines ultra solitos discordia tendit,
Cum flores ipsos bilis et ira movent.
Hortus ubi dulces præbet tacitosque recessus,
Se rapit in partes gens animosa duas; Take half thy canvass in.
Hic sibi regalis Amaryllis candida cultus,
Illic purpureo vindicat ore Rosa.
Ira Rosam et meritis quæsita superbia tangunt, REFLECTION ON THE FOREGOING ODE.
Multaque ferventi vix cohibenda sinu, And is this all ? Can Reason do no more,
Dum sibi fautorum ciet undique nomina vatum, Than bid me shun the deep, and dread the shore?
Jusque suum, multo carmine fulta, probat. Sweet moralist! afloat on life’s rough sea,
Altior emicat illa, et celso vertice nutat,
Ceu flores inter non habitura parem,
Fastiditque alios, et nata videtur in usus
Imperii, sceptrum, Flora quod ipsa gerat. And, trusting in his God, surmounts them all.
Nec Dea non sensit civilis murmura rixæ,
Cui curæ est pictas paridere ruris opes,
Deliciasque suas nunquam non prompta tueri, THE LILY AND THE ROSE.
Dum licet et locus est, ut tucatur, adest. The nymph must lose her female friend,
Et tibi forma datur procerior omnibus, inquit; If more admired than she
Et tibi, principibus qui solet But where will fierce contention end,
Et donec vincat quædam formosior ambas, If flowers can disagree?
Et tibi reginæ nomen, et esto tibi. Within the garden's peaceful scene
His ubi sedatus furor est, petit utraque nympham, Appeared two lovely foes
Qualem inter Veneres Anglia sola parit; Aspiring to the rank of queen
Hancpenes imperium est, nihil optant amplius, The Lily and the Rose.
hujus The Rose soon reddened into rage,
Regnant in nitidis, et sine lite, genis.
THE POPLAR FIELD.
The poplars are felled, farewell to the shade, A fair imperial flower;
And the whispering sound of the cool colonnade; She seemed designed for Flora's hand,
The winds play no longer and sing in the leaves, The sceptre of her power.
Nor Ouse on his bosom their image receives. This civil bickering and debate The goddess chanced to hear,
Twelve years have elapsed, since I last took a
view And flew to save, ere yet too late,
Of my favourite field, and the bank where they The pride of the parterre.
grew; Yours is, she said, the nobler hue,
And now in the grass behold they are laid, And yours the statelier mien;
And the tree is my seat, that once lent me a And, till a third surpasses you,
shade. Let each be deemed a queen.
The blackbird has fled to another retreat, Thus, soothed and reconciled, each seeks Where the hazels aflord him a screen from the The fairest British fair:
heat, The seat of empire is her cheeks,
And the scene where his melody charmed me beThey reign united there.
My fugitive years are all hasting away,
And I must ere long lie as lowly as they,
Quam raro pulchræ pulchra placere potest Ere another such grove shall arise in its stead,
'Tis a sight to engage me, if any thing can, Lené sonat liquidumque meis Eupbelia chordis,
Cum dixit mea lux, Heus, cane, sume lyram,
Namque lyram juxta positam cum carmine vidit, IDEM LATINE REDDITUM.
Suave quidem carmen dulcisonamque lyram. POPULÆ cecidet gratissima copia silvæ,
Fila lyræ vocemque paro suspiria surgunt, Conticuere susurri, omnisque evanuit umbra.
Et miscent numeris murmura mæsta meis, Nulle jam levibus se miscent frondibus aure,
Dumque tuæ memora laudes, Euphelia formæ, Et nulla in fluvio ramorum ludit imago.
Tota anima interia pendet ab ore Chloes.
Subrubet illa pudore, et contrahit altera frontem, Cum sero rediens, stratasque in gramine cernens,
Me torquet mea mens conscia, psallo, tremo; Insedi arboribus, sub queis errare solebam. Atque Cupidinea dixit Dea cincta corona,
Heu! fallendi artem quam didicere parum. Ah ubi nunc merulæ cantus ? Felicior illum Silva tegit, duræ nondum permissa bipenni; Scilicet exustos colles camposque patentes Odit, et indignans et non rediturus abivit. Sed qui succisas doleo succidar et ipse,
HISTORY OF JOHN GILPIN. Et prius huic parilis quàm creverit altera silva Flebor, et, exquiis parvis donatus, habebo Showing how he went farther than he intended, and came Defixum lapidum tumulique cubantis acervum.
safe home again. Tam subito periisse videns tam digna manere,
John Gilpin was a citizen
Of credit and renown,
A train-band captain eke was he
Of famous London town
Though wedded we have been
These twice ten tedious years, yet we
No holiday have seen.
To-morrow is our wedding day,
And we will then repair
Unto the Bell at Edmonton Delicias, procul arte, formidine novi.
All in a chaise and pair. Quàm vellem ignotus, quod mens mea semper
avebat, Ante larem proprium placidam expectare senec
My sister, and my sister's child, tam,
Myself, and children three,
Will fill the chaise; so you must ride Tum demùm, exactis non infeliciter annis,
On horseback after we. Sortiri tacitum lapidem, aut sub cespite condi!
He soon replied, I do admire
Of womankind but one,
And you are she, my dearest dear,
Therefore it shall be done.
I am a linen-draper bold,
As all the world doth know,
Will lend his horse to go.
Quoth Mrs. Gilpin, That's well said;
And for that wine is dear,
We will be furnished with our own,
Which is both bright and clear.
Full slowly pacing o'er the stones,
With caution and good heed.
John Gilpin kissed his loving wife;
O’erjoyed was he to find, That, though on pleasure she was bent,
She had a frugal mind.
But finding soon a smoother road
Beneath his well-shod feet, The snorting beast began to trot,
Which galled him in his seat.
The morning came, the chaise was brought,
But yet was not allowed
Should say that she was proud.
Where they did all get in;
To dash through thick and thin.
Were ever folks so glad,
As if Cheapside were mad.
Seized fast the flowing mane,
But soon came down again:
Flis journey. to begin,
Three customers come in.
So, fair and softly, John he cried,
But John he cried in vain;
In spite of curb or rein.
Who can not sit upright,
And eke with all his might.
His horse, who never in that sort
Had handled been before, What thing upon his back had got,
Did wonder more and more.
Away went Gilpin, neck or nought,
Away went hat and wig;
Of running such a rig.
Like streamers long and gay, Till loop and button failing both,
At last it flew away.
The bottles he had slung;
As hath been said or sung.
So down he came; for loss of time,
Although it grieved him sore; Yet loss of pence, full well he knew,
Would trouble him much more.
'Twas long before the customers
Were suited to their mind, When Betty screaming came down stairs,
"The wine is left behind!"
The dogs did bark, the children screamed,
Up flew the windows all;
As loud as he could bawl.
Good lack! quoth he-yet bring it me,
My leathern belt likewise,
When I do exercise.
Had two stone bottles found,
And keep it safe and sound. Each bottle had a curling ear,
Through which the belt he drew, And hung a bottle on each side,
To make his balance true.
Away went Gilpin—who but he?
His fame soon spread around, He carries weight! he rides a race!
'Tis for a thousand pound! And still, as fast as he drew near,
'Twas wonderful to view, How in a trice the turnpike men
Their gates wide open threw.
And now, as he went bowing down
His reeking head full low, The bottles twain behind his back
Where shattered at a blow.
Then over all, that he might be
Equipped from top to toe,
He manfully did throw.
Upon his nimble steed,
Down ran the wine into the road,
Most piteous to be seen, Which made his horse's flanks to smoke
As they had basted been.
But still he seemed to carry weight,
With leathern girdle braced; For all might see the bottles' necks
Still dangling at his waist. Thus all through merry Islington
These gambols he did play,
Of Edmonton so gay;
On both sides of the way,
Or a wild goose at play.
From the balcony spied
To see how he did ride.
They all aloud did cry;
Said Gilpin-So am I!
Inclined to tarry there;
Full ten miles off, at Ware.
Shot by an archer strong;
The middle of rny song.
Whence straight he came with hat and wig;
A wig that flowed behind,
Each comely in its kind.
That showed his ready wit,
They therefore needs must fit.
That hangs upon your face;
Be in a hungry case.
And all the world would stare,
And I should dine at Ware.
So turning to his horse he said,
I am in haste to dine; 'Twas for your pleasure you came here,
You shall go back for mine. Ah luckless speech, and bootless boast !
For which he paid full dear; For, while he spoke, a braying ass
Did sing most loud and clear;
Had heard a lion roar,
As he had done before.
Away went Gilpin out of breath,
And sore against his will, Till at his friend the calender's
His horse at last stood still.
The calender, amazed to see
His neighbour in such trim, Laid down his pipe, flew to the gate,
And thus accosted him:
Away went Gilpin, and away
Went Gilpin's hat and wig: He lost them sooner than at first,
For why ?--they were too big. Now mistress Gilpin, when she saw
Her hushand posting down Into the country far away,
She pulled out half a crown; And thus unto the youth she said,
That drove them to the Bell,
My husband safe and well.
John coming back amain;
By catching at his rein;
And gladly would have done,
And made him faster run,
What news? what news? your tidings tell;
Tell me you must and shallSay why bareheaded you are come,
Or why you come at all ? Now Gilpin had a pleasant wit,
And loved a timely joke;
In merry guise he spoke:
And, if I well forebode,
They are upon the road.
His friend in merry pin, Returned him not a single word,
But to the house went in;
Away went Gilpin, and away
Went postboy at his hcels, The post boy's horse right glad to miss
The lumbering of the wheels.