And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked fcythe and fpade; To the cold tomb: Only the actions of the just Smell fweet and bloffom in the duft. SHIRLEY. PRINCE LEEBOO. FROM the mighty Pacific with foft-fwelling waves, From China returning with filk and with tea, Ah! look how the heaves! on the rocks fhe is ftranded! But the boats are thrown out, and the failors are landed. What black men are those in their flender canoe, Who gaze with fuch wonder?-The men of Pelew. How How kindly they welcome the failors on fhore! yams and sweet cocoanuts bring from their store; And But vain ev'ry effort to foften their anguish: For home, diftant home, the poor Englishmen languish; ། They build a ftout ship, they fail off from Pelew, And away with the strangers fails young Prince Leeboo. O! what is his rapture, and what his furprife, When in gay bufy London he opens his eyes! "Fine fhops, houfes, coaches, O! joy beyond measure! Yes, yes, my dear friends fhall partake in my pleasure : Fine clothes, coaches, horses, I'll bear to PelewWhat wonder for them, what delight for Leeboo!" Fond projects! In vain fhall his father explore The wide fhiolefs waves-he fhall fee him no more. O! chide not the English thy darling detaining,, And chide not thy fon 'mid the ftrangers remaining: Know, death has arrested him far from Pelew, And the ftrangers have wept o'er the gentle Leeboo! PROUD and foolish, noify ftream! Tho' now thou boaft thy fwelling tide, Auguft will foon be here, and end thy short-liv'd pride. Thou foam'ft and boil'ft along the plain, The flocks and fhepherds threat'ning by the way, Thro' borrow'd waters, bafely vain, Lift'ft up thy head, and dost regardless stray. No drop remain of thy proud fwelling flood; Tread o'er the dufty fand, and spurn it with difdain! DRYDEN: HUNTING Hunting the Hare. III HUNTING THE HARE. HARK from yon covert, where those tow'ring oaks What glorious triumphs burst in ev'ry gale The clanging horns fwell their sweet winding notes, The pack wide op'ning load the trembling air And climbs th' adjacent hill; the plowman leaves Defert th' unpeopled village; and wild crowds Spread o'er the plain, by the sweet phrensy seized. 112 The Fairy's Song. THE FAIRY'S SONG. COME follow, follow me, Light tripping o'er the green; When mortals are at reft Through key-holes we do glide; Then o'er a mushroom's head The diet that we eat ; Pearly drops of dew we drink The grafshopper, gnat, and fly, Grace |