Happy if Morpheus visits there, And to the city's tumults hies, Thinking to frolic life away, Be ever cheerful, ever gay: But tho' enwrapt in noise and smoke, They ne'er can heal his peace when broke; His fears arise, he sighs again For solitude on rural plain; Even there his wishes all conveen To bear him to his noise again. Thus tortur'd, rack'd, and sore opprest, He constant hunts, but never finds his rest. Antistrophe.. Oh exercise! thou healing power, The toiling rustic's chiefest dower; Be thou with parent virtue join'd poor. ODE TO DISAPPOINTMENT. THOU HOU joyous fiend, life's constant foe, Sad source of care, and spring of wo, Soft Pleasure's hard controul; Her gayest haunts for ever nigh, That swells the murm'ring soul. Why haunt'st thou me thro' deserts drear? Thy visage wan did e'er I woo, Or court thy sullen shade? Even now enchanted scenes abound, To lure th' astonish'd eyes; Now horrors, hell, and furies reign, Of all its gay disguise. The passions at thy urgent call, In frenzy's fetters strong. And now Despair with lurid eye Subdu'd by famine long. The lover flies the haunts of day, Sad sisters of the sighing grove Yet Hope undaunted wears thy chain, Unaw'd by power her fancy flies DIRGE. THE waving yew or cypress wreath Since Strephon's virtue's sunk to rest, A sad-ey'd mourner at his tomb, Thou, Friendship! pay thy rites divine, And echo thro' the midnight gloom That Strephon's early fall was thine. HORACE, ODE XI. LIB. I. NE'ER fash your thumb what gods decree Nor deal in cantrip's kittle cunning But patient lippen for the best, THE AUTHOR'S LIFE. My life is like the flowing stream That on its watry bosom sail, And wanders 'midst Elysian groves Thro' all the haunts that fancy loves. May I when drooping days decline, And 'gainst those genial streams combine, The winter's sad decay forsake, And center in my parent lake. SONG. SINCE brightest beauty soon must fade, And wither in the drooping shade, Ye virgins, sieze the fleeting hour, Ere age your wonted smiles deflow'r, EPIGRA M, On a Lawyer's desiring one of the Tribe to look with respect to a GIBBET. THE lawyers may revere that tree Where thieves so oft have strung, On the AUTHOR's intention of going to Sea. FORTUNE and Bob, e'er since his birth, She fairly kickt him from the earth EPIGRA M, IVritten Extempore, at the desire of a Gentleman who was rather ill-favoured, but who had a beautiful Family of Children. SC-TT and his children emblems are Of real good and evil; His children are like cherubims, But Sc-tt is like the devil. |