The ftings of falfhood those shall try,
And hard unkindness' alter'd eye,
That mocks the tear it forc'd to flow;
And keen remorfe with blood defil'd,
And moody madness laughing wild
Amid feverest woe.

Lo, in the vale of years beneath
A griefly troop are seen,

The painful family of death,

More hideous than their queen :

This racks the joints, this fires the veins,
That every labouring finew firains,
Those in the deeper vitals rage:
Lo, poverty, to fill the band,

That numbs the foul with icy hand,

And flow-confuming age.

To each his fuff'rings: all are men, Condemn'd alike to groan,

The tender for another's pain;

"Th' unfeeling for his own.

Yet ah! why should they know their fate!

Since forrow never comes too late,

And happiness too fwiftly flies.
Thought would destroy their paradise.
No more; where ignorance is bliss,
'Tis folly to be wife.

ODE.

Lo

D

By the Same.

I.

O! where the rofy-bofom'd hours,
Fair VENUS' train appear,

Disclose the long-expecting flowers,
And wake the purple year

!

The ATTICK warbler pours her throat
Refponfive to the cuckow's note,
That untaught harmony of fpring:
While whisp'ring pleasure as they fly,

Cool Zephyrs thro' the clear blue sky
Their gather'd fragrance fling.

II.

E.

Where-e'er the oak's thick branches ftretch

A broader browner fhade;

Where-e'er the rude and mofs-grown beech

O'er-canopies the glade;

Befide fome water's rushy brink

With me the Mufe fhall fit and think

(At eafe reclin'd in ruftick state)

How vain the ardour of the crowd,

How low, how indigent the proud,
How little are the great!

III. Still

III.

Still is the toiling hand of care :

The panting herds repose:

Yet hark, how through the peopled air

The bufy murmur glows!

The infect 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 fhew their gayly gilded trim
Quick glancing to the fan.

IV.

To contemplation's fober eye

Such is the race of man:

And they that creep, and they that fly,

Shall end where they began.

Alike the bufy and the gay

But flutter thro' life's little day,

In fortune's varying colours drefs'd:
Brush'd by the hand of rough mifchance,
Or chill'd by age, their airy dance
They leave, in duft to reft.

V.

Methinks I hear in accents low

The sportive kind reply:

Poor moralift! and what art thou?

A folitary fly!

Thy

Thy joys no glittering female meets,
No hive haft thou of hoarded fweets,
No painted plumage to display:

On hafty wings thy youth is flown ;
Thy fun is fet, thy fpring is gone.
We frolick, while 'tis May.

"T

By the Same.

I.

WAS on a lofty vafe's fide,

Where China's gayeft art had dy'd

The azure flowers, that blow ;

Demureft of the Tabby kind,

The penfive Selima reclin'd,

Gaz'd on the lake below.

Her confcious tail her joy declar'd;
The fair round face, the fnowy beard,

The velvet of her paws,

The coat that with the tortoise vies,
Her ears of jet, and emerald eyes,

She faw; and purr'd applause,

III. Still

III.

Still had she gaz'd: but 'midst the tide
Two beauteous forms were seen to glide,

The Genii of the stream;

Their scaly armour's Tyrian hue
Thro' richest purple to the view
Betray'd a golden gleam.

IV.

The haplefs nymph with wonder faw:
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?

V.

Prefumptuous maid! with looks intent
Again the ftretch'd, again the bent,
Nor knew the gulf between ;
(Malignant Fate fat by and fmil'd)
The flipp'ry verge her feet beguil'd,
She tumbled headlong in.

VI.

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

Some speedy aid to send.

No Dolphin came, no Nereid ftir'd:

Nor cruel Tom, nor Sufan heard.

A fav'rite has no friend!