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But taking those rare lips of yours
Confessedly difficult as it is to assume, with grace and ease, the HORATIAN garb, our author has, in more than one instance, exhibited himself to advantage in the costume of the Roman poet. That mixture of voluptuous epicurism and serious thought, which particularises many of the odes and some of the epistles of Horace, he has caught with much effect in his “ Address to his friend Mr. John Wicks," nor in his
“ Ode to Sir Clipseby Crew”* has he shewn Jess skill in imitating the still lighter graces of this fascinating bard. The former of these pieces will convey to the reader an adequate idea of our author's merit in this arduous department.
Is this a life, to break thy sleep? To rise as soon as day doth peep? To tire thy patient Ox or Ass By noon, and let thy good days pass, Not knowing this, that Jove decrees Some mirth t'adulce man's miseries? No; 'tis a life, to have thine oil, Without extortion, from thy soil: Thy faithful fields to yield thee grain, Although with some, yet little pain: To have thy mind, and nuptial bed, With fears, and cares uncumbered: A pleasing Wife, that by thy side Lies softly panting like a bride. This is to live, and to endear Those minutes, Time has lent us here. Then, while Fates suffer, live thou free, As is that air that circles thee. Time steals
like to a stream And we glide hence away with them,
• Hesperides, page 230.
No sound recalls the hours once fled,
Agricola incurvo terram dimovit aratro:
VIRGILIUS The peasant yearly ploughs his native soil; The lands that blest his fathers bound his toil, Sustain bis herd, his country's wealth increase,
And see his children's children sport in peace.
Had Herrick adopted any arrangement ör classification for his poetry, it would probably have experienced a kinder fate. The