4 Yet though my limbs disease invades,
Her wings Imagination tries,

And bears me to the peaceful shades
Where's humble turrets rise.

5 Here stop, my soul, thy rapid flight,
Nor from the pleasing groves depart,
Where first great Nature charm'd my sight,
Where Wisdom first inform'd my heart.

6 Here let me through the vales pursue
A guide a father-and a friend;
Once more great Nature's works renew,
Once more on Wisdom's voice attend.

7 From false caresses, causeless strife, Wild hope, vain fear, alike removed, Here let me learn the use of life,

When best enjoy'd-when most improved.

8 Teach me, thou venerable bower!
Cool Meditation's quiet seat,
The generous scorn of venal power,
The silent grandeur of retreat.

9 When pride by guilt to greatness climbs,
Or raging factions rush to war,
Here let me learn to shun the crimes
I can't prevent, and will not share.

10 But lest I fall by subtler foes,

Bright Wisdom, teach me Curio's art,
The swelling passions to compose,
And quell the rebels of the heart!

MIDSUMMER.

1 0 PHŒBUS! down the western sky,
Far hence diffuse thy burning ray;
Thy light to distant worlds supply,
And wake them to the cares of day.

2 Come, gentle Eve! the friend of Care, Come, Cynthia, lovely queen of night! Refresh me with a cooling breeze,

And cheer me with a lambent light.

3 Lay me where, o'er the verdant ground, Her living carpet Nature spreads;

Where the green bower, with roses crown'd, In showers its fragrant foliage sheds.

4 Improve the peaceful hour with wine;
Let music die along the grove ;
Around the bowl let myrtles twine,
And every strain be tuned to love.

5 Come, Stella, queen of all my heart! Come, born to fill its vast desires! Thy looks perpetual joys impart,

Thy voice perpetual love inspires.

6 While, all my wish and thine complete, By turns we languish and we burn, Let sighing gales our sighs repeat,

Our murmurs, murmuring brooks return.

7 Let me, when Nature calls to rest,

And blushing skies the morn foretell, Sink on the down of Stella's breast, And bid the waking world farewell.

AUTUMN.

1 ALAS! with swift and silent pace,
Impatient Time rolls on the year;
The seasons change, and Nature's face
Now sweetly smiles, now frowns severe.

2 'Twas Spring, 'twas Summer, all was gay; Now Autumn bends a cloudy brow; The flowers of Spring are swept away,

And Summer fruits desert the bough.

3 The verdant leaves that play'd on high, And wanton'd on the western breeze, Now trod in dust neglected lie,

As Boreas strips the bending trees.

4 The fields, that waved with golden grain,
As russet heaths are wild and bare;

Not moist with dew, but drench'd in rain,
Nor Health, nor Pleasure wanders there.

5 No more, while through the midnight shade, Beneath the moon's pale orb I stray,

Soft pleasing woes my heart invade,
As Prognè1 pours the melting lay.
เ Progne:' the nightingale.

6 From this capricious clime she soars,

Oh! would some god but wings supply! To where each morn the Spring restores, Companion of her flight, I'd fly.

7 Vain wish! me Fate compels to bear
The downward season's iron reign,
Compels to breathe polluted air,
And shiver on a blasted plain.

8 What bliss to life can Autumn yield,

If glooms, and showers, and storms prevail, And Ceres flies the naked field,

And flowers, and fruits, and Phoebus fail?

9 Oh! what remains, what lingers yet,

To cheer me in the darkening hour?
The grape remains! the friend of wit,
In love and mirth of mighty power.

10 Haste-press the clusters, fill the bowl; Apollo! shoot thy parting ray:

This gives the sunshine of the soul,

This god of health, and verse, and day.

11 Still, still the jocund strain shall flow,

The pulse with vigorous rapture beat;
My Stella with new charms shall glow,
And every bliss in wine shall meet.

WINTER.

1 No more the morn, with tepid rays,
Unfolds the flowers of various hue;
Noon spreads no more the genial blaze,
Nor gentle eve distils the dew.

2 The lingering hours prolong the night,
Usurping Darkness shares the day;
Her mists restrain the force of light,
And Phoebus holds a doubtful sway.

3 By gloomy twilight half reveal'd,

With sighs we view the hoary hill, The leafless wood, the naked field, The snow-topt cot, the frozen rill.

4 No music warbles through the grove,
No vivid colours paint the plain;
No more with devious steps I rove
Through verdant paths now sought in vain.

5 Aloud the driving tempest roars,

Congeal'd, impetuous showers descend; Haste, close the windows, bar the doors, Fate leaves me Stella, and a friend.

6 In Nature's aid let Art supply

With light and heat my little sphere; Rouse, rouse the fire, and pile it high, Light up a constellation here.