Which kindly given, may serve with food FAMILIARITY DANGEROUS. As in her ancient mistress' lap They gave each other many a tap, But strife ensues. Puss waxes warm, And with protruded claws Ploughs all the length of Lydia's arm, Mere wantonness the cause. At once, resentful of the deed, She shakes her to the ground With many a threat that she shall bleed With still a deeper wound. But, Lydia, bid thy fury rest: It was a venial stroke: For she that will with kittens jest INVITATION TO THE REDBREAST. SWEET bird, whom the winter constrainsAnd seldom another it can— To seek a retreat while he reigns In the well-shelter'd dwellings of man, Who never can seem to intrude, Though in all places equally free, Come oft as the season is rude, Thou art sure to be welcome to me. At sight of the first feeble ray That pierces the clouds of the east, To inveigle thee every day My windows shall show thee a feast, Then, soon as the swell of the buds Or where it shall please thee to sing: Only pay as thou paid'st me before. This music must needs be confess'd To flow from a fountain above; Else how should it work in the breast Unchangeable friendship and love? That can be delighted by sound, STRADA'S NIGHTINGALE. THE shepherd touch'd his reed; sweet Philomel Essay'd, and oft essay'd to catch the strain, And treasuring, as on her ear they fell, The numbers, echo'd note for note again. The peevish youth, who ne'er had found before And soon (for various was his tuneful store) She dared the task, and rising as he rose, With all the force that passion gives inspired, Return'd the sounds awhile, but in the close Exhausted fell, and at his feet expired. Thus strength, not skill prevail'd. O fatal strife, ODE ON THE DEATH OF A LADY, WHO LIVED ONE HUNDRED YEARS, AND DIED ON HER BIRTHDAY, 1728. ANCIENT dame, how wide and vast To a race like ours appears, VOL. 11. Rounded to an orb at last, We, the herd of human kind, Death's delicious banquet-we Seeds of merciless disease Lurk in all that we enjoy ; And, if life o'erleap the bourn Fast as moons can wax and wane If a few (to few 'tis given), Lingering on this earthly stage, Creep and halt with steps uneven To the period of an age, Wherefore live they, but to see Cunning, arrogance and force, Sights lamented much by thee, Holding their accustom'd course? Oft was seen, in ages past, All that we with wonder view; Often shall be to the last; Earth produces nothing new. Thee we gratulate, content Should propitious Heaven design Life for us as calmly spent, Though but half the length of thine. THE CAUSE WON. Two neighbors furiously dispute ; The pleadings swell. Words still suffice: THE SILKWORM. THE beams of April, ere it goes, That serves him-till he needs no more! |