ODE TO A LADY IN LONDON.

W

BY MISS CARTER.

WHILE foft through water, earth, and air,
The vernal fpirits rove,

From noify joys, and giddy crowds

To rural fcenes remove.

The mountain fnows are all diffolv'd,
And hufh'd the bluft'ring gale,
While fragrant Zephyrs gently breathe
Along the flowery vale.

The circling planets' conftant rounds

The wint❜ry waftes repair, And ftill from temporary death

Renew the verdant year.

But ah! when once our tranfient bloom,

The fpring of life, is o'er, That rofy feafon takes its flight,

And must return no more.

Yet judge by Reason's sober rules,

From falfe Opinion free,

And mark how little pilfering years

Can steal from you or me.

Each

Each moral pleasure of the heart,
Each smiling charm of truth,
Depends not on the giddy aid
Of wild inconftant youth.

The vain coquet, whofe empty pride
A fading face fupplies,

May juftly dread the wint'ry gloom
Where all its glory dies.

Leave fuch a ruin to deplore
To fading forms confin'd;
Nor age, nor wrinkles, discompose
One feature of the mind.

Amidst the universal change,
Unconscious of decay,

It views unmov'd the fcythe of Time,

Sweep all befides away.

Fix'd on its own eternal frame

Eternal are its joys,

While, born on tranfitory wings,

Each mortal pleasure flies.

While ev'ry fhort-liv'd flower of sense

Destructive years confume,

Through friendship's fair enchanting walks

Unfading myrtles bloom.

Nor

Nor with the narrow bounds of time
The beauteous profpect ends,
But lengthen'd through the vale of death
To Paradife extends.

ODE то

SPRING,

BY MISS FERRER OF HUNTINGDON,

SINCE MARRIED TO THE REV. MR. PECKARD.

I.

AIL, genial goddess, blooming Spring!

HA

Thy bleft return, O let me fing,

And aid my languid lays :

Let me not fink in floth supine

While all creation at thy fhrine

Its annual tribute pays.

II.

Escap'd from Winter's freezing power,

Each bloffom greets thee, and each flower;
And foremost of the train,

By Nature (artlefs handmaid!) drest,
The fnow-drop comes in lily'd veft,

Prophetic of thy reign.

III. The

III.

The lark now ftrains his warbling throat,
While every loud and sprightly note
Calls Echo from her cell.

Be warn'd, ye fair, that listen round,
A beauteous maid became a found,
A maid who lov'd too well.

IV.

The bright-hair'd fun with warmth benign
Bids tree, and fhrub, and fwelling vine,

Their infant-buds difplay:

Again the streams refresh the plains,
Which Winter bound in iey chains,
And sparkling bless his ray.

V.

Life-giving Zephyrs breathe around,
And inftant glows th' enamel'd ground
With Nature's vary'd hues :
Not fo returns our youth decay'd,
Alas! nor air, nor fun, nor fhade,
The fpring of life renews.

VI.

The fun's too quick-revolving beam
Will foon diffolve the human dream,

And bring th' appointed hour:
Too late we catch his parting ray,
And mourn the idly-wafted day

No longer in our power.

VII. Then

VII.

Then happiest he, whose lengthen'd fight
Pursues, by virtue's conftant light,
A hope beyond the skies:

Where frowning Winter ne'er shall come,
But rofy Spring for ever bloom,
And funs eternal rise.

KKKKKKKKKKKKK

ODE TO CYNTHIA.

S

IN IMITATION OF AN

IDYLLIUM OF BION.

BY THE SAME.

ISTER of Phoebus, gentle Queen,
Of afpect mild and brow ferene,
Whose friendly beams by night appear
The lonely traveller to cheer;
Attractive Power, whofe mighty fway
The ocean's fwelling waves obey,
And, mounting upward, feem to raise
A liquid altar to thy praise:

Thee wither'd hags, at midnight hour,
Invoke to their infernal bower.
But I to no fuch horrid rite,
Sweet Queen, implore thy facred light,
Nor feek, while all but lovers fleep,
To rob the mifer's treafur'd heap:

Thy

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