'Tis a fight to engage me if any thing can,
To muse on the perishing pleasures of man;
Though his life be a dream, his enjoyments, I fee,
Have a being less durable even than he.
POPULEÆ cecidit gratiffima copia filvæ,
Conticuêre fufurri, omnisque evanuit umbra.
Nullæ jam levibus se miscent frondibus auræ
Et nulla in fluvio ramorum ludit imago.
Hei mihi! bis senos dum luctû torqueor annos
His cogor filvis suetoque carere receffû,
Cum ferò rediens stratasque in gramine cernens
Insedi arboribus fub queîs errare folebam.
Ah ubi nunc merulæ cantus? Felicior illum
Silva tegit, duræ nondum permissa bipenni;
Scilicet exuftos colles camposque patentes
Odit, et indignans et non rediturus abivit.
Sed qui fuccifas doleo fuccidar et ipse,
Et priùs huic parilis quàm creverit altera filva
Flebor, et, exequiis parvis donatus, habebo
Defixum lapidem tumulique cubantis acervum.
Tam fubitò periisse videns tam digna manere
Agnosco humanas fortes et triftia fata-
Sit licàt ipse brevis, volucrique simillimus umbræ,
Eft homini brevior citiùsque obitura voluptas.
HERE lies, whom hound did ne'er pursue,
Nor swifter greyhound follow,
Whose foot ne'er tainted morning dew,
Nor e'er heard huntsman's hallo',
Old Tiney, furliest of his kind,
Who, nurs'd with tender care,
And to domeftic bounds confin'd,
Was ftill a wild Jack-hare.
Though duly from my hand he took
His pittance ev'ry night,
He did it with a jealous look,
And, when he could, would bite.
His diet was of wheaten bread
And milk, and oats, and straw; Thistles, or lettuces instead,
With fand to scour his maw.
On twigs of hawthorn he regal'd,
On pippins' ruffet peel,
And, when his juicy salads fail'd,
Slic'd carrot pleas'd him well.
A Turkey carpet was his lawn
Whereon he lov'd to bound,
To skip and gambol like a fawn,
And swing his rump around.
His frisking was at evening hours,
For then he lott his fear,
But most before approaching show'rs,
Or when a florm drew near.
Eight years and five round-rolling moons
He thus saw steal away,
Dozing out all his idle noons,
And ev'ry night at play.
I kept him for his humour' fake,
For he would oft beguile
My heart of thoughts that made it ache,
And force me to a smile.
But now, beneath this walnut shade
He finds his long, last home,
And waits, in snug concealment laid,
Till gentler Puss shall come.
He, ftill more aged, feels the fhocks
From which no care can save,
And, partner once of Tiney's box,
Must soon partake his grave.
Hic etiam jacet
Qui totum novennium vixit
Pufs.
Sifte paulifper
Qui præteriturus es
Et tecum fic reputa
Hunc neque canis venaticus
Nec plumbum miffile
Nec laqueus
Nec imbres nimii
Confecêre
Tamen mortuus eft
Et moriar ego.
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