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Mark, when from thousand mingled dyes
Thou feeft one pleafing form arise,
How active light, and thoughtful shade,
In greater fcenes each other aid;
Mark, when the different notes agree
In friendly contrariety,

How paffion's well-accorded ftrife
Gives all the harmony of life;
Thy pictures fhall thy conduct frame,
Confiftent ftill, though not the fame ;
Thy mufic teach the nobler art,
To tune the regulated heart.

EVENING: an Ode.

To STELLA.

EVENING now from purple wings

Sheds the grateful gifts fhe brings;
Brilliant drops bedeck the mead,
Cooling breezes fhake the reed;
Shake the reed, and curl the ftream
Silver'd o'er with Cynthia's beam;
Near the chequer'd, lonely grove,
Hears, and keeps thy fecrets, Love.
Stella, thither let us ftray,
Lightly o'er the dewy way..
Phoebus drives his burning car,
Hence, my lovely Stella, far;
In his ftead, the Queen of Night
Round us pours a lambent light;

Light

Light that feems but juft to fhow

Breafts that beat, and cheeks that glow,
Let us now, in whifper'd joy,
Evening's filent hours employ,
Silence beft, and conscious fhades,
Please the hearts that love invades,
Other pleasures give them pain,
Lovers all but love difdain.

TO THE SAME.

WHETHER Stella's eyes are found
Fix'd on earth, or glancing round,
If her face with pleasure glow,
If fhe figh at others woe,
If her eafy air express

Conscious worth, or foft diftrefs,
Stella's eyes, and air, and face,
Charm with undiminish'd grace.
If on her we fee display'd
Pendant gems, and rich brocade,
If her chintz with less expence
Flows in eafy negligence ;
Still the lights the confcious flame,
Still her charms appear the fame;
If the ftrikes the vocal ftrings,
If fhe's filent, fpeaks, or fings,
If fhe fit, or if she move,
Still we love and ftill approve.

Vain the cafual, tranfient glance,
Which alone can please by chance,

Beauty,

Beauty, which depends on art,

Changing with the changing art,
Which demands the toilet's aid,
Pendant gems and rich brocade.
I those charms alone can prize,
Which from conftant nature rise,
Which nor circumftance, nor dress,
E'er can make, or more, or lefs.

To a FRIEND.

No more thus brooding o'er yon heap,
With Avarice painful vigils keep;
Still unenjoy'd the present store,
Still endless fighs are breath'd for more.
O! quit the fhadow, catch the prize,
Which not all India's treasure buys!
To purchase Heaven has gold the power?
Can gold remove the mortal hour?
In life can love be bought with gold?
Are friendship's pleasures to be fold?
No-all that's worth a wish-a thought,
Fair virtue gives unbrib'd, unbought.
Cease then on trash thy hopes to bind,
Let nobler views engage thy mind.
With science tread the wond'rous way,

Or learn the Mufes' moral lay;

In focial hours indulge thy foul,

Where mirth and temperance mix the bowl;

VOL. I.

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To virtuous love refign thy breast,
And be, by bleffing beauty-bleft.
Thus tafte the feaft by nature spread,
Ere youth and all its joys are fled;
Come tafte with me the balm of life,
Secure from pomp, and wealth, and ftrife.
I boaft whate'er for man was meant,
In health, and Stella, and content;
And fcorn! oh! let that fcorn be thine!
Mere things of clay that dig the mine.

STELLA IN MOURNING.

WHEN lately Stella's form display'd,

The beauties of the gay brocade,

The nymphs, who found their power decline,
Proclaim'd her not fo fair as fine.

"Fate! fnatch away the bright difguife,

"And let the goddess truft her eyes.”
Thus blindly pray'd the Fretful Fair,
And Fate malicious heard the pray'r;
But, brighten'd by the fable drefs,
As virtue rifes in diftrefs,

Since Stella ftill extends her reign,
Ah! how fhall envy footh her pain?

Th' adoring Youth and envious Fair,
Henceforth fhall form one common prayer;
And love and hate alike implore

The fkies-" That Stella mourn no more."

Το

To STELLA.

NOT the foft fighs of vernal gales,
The fragrance of the flowery vales,
The murmurs of the crystal rill,
The vocal grove, the verdant hill;
Not all their charms, though all unite,
Can touch my bofom with delight.

Not all the gems on India's fhore,
Not all Peru's unbounded ftore,
Not all the power, nor all the fame,
That heroes, kings, or poets, claim;
Nor knowledge, which the learn'd approve;
To form one with my foul can move.

Yet nature's charms allure my eyes,
And knowledge, wealth, and fame, I prize;
Fame, wealth, and knowledge, I obtain,
Nor feek I nature's charms in vain ;

In lovely Stella all combine;

And, lovely Stella! thou art mine.

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