Which much you will mend, if For it maketh things small; (Mark the doctrine I teach) Thrice as long as you preach.t SPRING. An Ode. Dr. JOHNSON. nhappy whom to beds of pain et tho' my limbs disease invades, hen pride by guilt to greatness climbs, But lest I fall by subtler foes, Bright wisdom, teach me Curio's art The MIDSUMMER'S WISH. An Ode. And cheer me with a lambent light And every strain be tun'd to love. Thy voice perpetual love inspires. Our murmurs-murmuring brooks return." Let me, when nature calls to rest, AUTUMN." An Ode." Impatient time rolls on the year; As Boreas strips the bending trees. Of this composition, see the Works of the Copper-farthing Dean. Which we suppose to be near four hours. No No more, while thro' the midnight shade Vain wish! me fate compels to bear And flow'rs, and fruits, and Phoebus fail? O! what remains, what lingers yet, To cheer me in the darkening hour? In love and mirth of mighty pow'r. This god of health, and verse, and day. "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, more the morn, with tepid rays, Noon spreads no more the genial blaze, And Phoebus holds a doubtful sway. 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. No music warbles thro' the grove, No vivid colours paint the plain; No more with devious steps I rove Thro' verdant paths now sought in vain. Aloud the driving tempest roars, Congeal'd, impetuous show'rs descend; With light and heat my little sphere; Or mirth repeat the jocund tale; An EVENING ODE. To Stella. EVENING now from purple wings Sheds the grateful gifts she brings; Brilliant drops bedeck the mead, Cooling breezes shake the reed; Shake the reed, and curl the stream Silver'd o'er with Cynthia's beam; Near the chequer'd lonely grove Hears and keeps thy secrets, love. Stella, thither let us stray, Lightly o'er the dewy way. Phoebus drives his burning car Hence, my lovely Stella, far; In his stead, the queen of night Round us pours a lambent light; Light that seems but just to shew Breasts that beat, and checks that glow. Let us now, in whisper'd joy, Evening's silent hours employ; Silence best, and conscious shades, Please the hearts that love invades ; Other pleasures give them pain, Lovers all but love disdain." The NATURAL BEAUTY. To S Dr. JOH WHETHER Stella's eyes are found Fix'd on earth or glancing round, Conscious worth or soft distress, Vain the casual, transient glance, Dr. JOHNSON. The Vanity of Wealth. No more, thus brooding o'er yon heap, With Avarice painful vigils keep; Still unenjoy'd the present store, Still endless sighs are breath'd for more. O quit the shadow, catch the prize, Which not all India's treasure buys! To purchase heaven has gold the pow'r? Can gold remove the mortal hour? In life can love be bought with gold? Are friendship's pleasures to be sold? No-all that's worth a wish, a thought, Fair virtue gives unbrib'd, unbought. Cease then on trash thy hopes to bind, Let nobler views engage thy mind. With science tread the wondrous way, Or learn the Muses' moral lay; In social hours indulge thy soul, Where mirth and temperance mix the bowl; To virtuous love resign thy breast, And be, by blessing beauty, blest. Thus taste the feast by nature spread, Ere youth and all its joys are fled; Come taste with me the balm of life, Secure from pomp, and wealth, and strife. boast whate'er for man was meant, health, and Stella, and content; And scorn (O let that scorn be thine!) Mere things of clay that dig the mine. o Miss on her giving the Author a Gold and Silk Net-work Purse of her own wearing. Dr. JOHNSON. PHOUGH gold and silk their charms unite To make they curious web delight, I vain the varied work would shine wrought by any hand but thine; hy hand, that knows the subtler art weave those nets that catch the heart. Spread out by me, the roving coin hy nets may catch, but not confine; or can I hope thy silken chain -he glittering vagrants shall restrain. Thy, Stella, was it then decreed, he heart once caught should ne'er be freed? Po Lyce, an elderly Lady. Dr. JOHNSON. TE Nymphs whom starry rays invest, By Hattering poets given, er teeth the night with darkness dyes, But some Zelinda, while I sing, Yet spite of fair Zelinda's eye, Epitaph on Sir Thomas Hanmer. Dr. JOHNSON. HOU who survey'st these walls with curious THOU cye, Pause at itis tomb where HANMER's ashes lie: His various worth through varied life attend, And learn his virtues while thou mourn'st his end. His force of genius burn'd in early youth With thirst of knowledge and with love of truth; His learning, join'd with each endearing art, Charin'd ev'ry ear, and gain'd on ev'ry heart. Thrus early wise, th' endanger'd realin to aid, His country call'd him from the studious shade: In life's first bloom his public toils began, At once commenc'd the senator and man. In business dext'rous, weighty in debate, Thrice ten long years he labour'd for the state: In every speech persuasive wisdom flow'd, In every act refulgent virtue glow'd; Suspended faction ceas'd from rage and strife, To hear his eloquence, and praise his life. Resistless merit fix'd the Senate's choice, Who hail'd him Speaker with united voice. Illustrious age! how bright thy glories shone, When HANMER fill'd the chair, and ANNE the throne! Then when dark arts obscur'd each fierce When mutual frauds perplex'd the maze of state, This task perform'd,he sought no gainful post, Nor wish'd to glitter at his country's cost: Strict on the right he fix'd his stedfast eye, With temperate zeal, and wise anxiety; Nor e'er from Virtue's paths was lur'd aside, Calm Conscience then his former life sur- And recollected toils endear'd the shade ; ; SONNETS pale, Young Health, a dryad-maid in vesture green, Or like the forest's silver-quiver'd queen, On early uplands met the piercing gale; And, ere its earliest echo shook the vale, Watching the hunter's joyous horn was seen. But since, gay-thron'd in fiery chariot sheen, Summer has smote each daisy-dappled dale; She to the cave retires, high-arch'd beneath The fount that laves proud Isis' tow'red brim: And now all glad the temperate air to breathe, While cooling drops distil from arches dim, Binding her dewy locks with sedgy wreath, She sits amid the quire of Naiads trim. Written at Stonehenge.. HOU noblest monument of Albion's isle, Whether by Merlin's aid, from Seythe shore To Amber's fatal plain Pendragon bore, Huge frame of giant hands, the mighty ple T'entomb his Britons slain by Hengist's guil Or Druid priests, sprinkled with human Taught 'mid thy massy maze their as lore: Or Danish chiefs, enrich'd with savage sp To victory's idol vast, an unhewn shrine, Rear'd the rude heap; or, in thy hall Repose the kings of Brutus' genuine line: round, Or here those kings in solemn state crown'd:* Studious to trace thy wondrous origia, We muse on many an ancient tale reno“. Decks with a magic hand the dazzlingbor Its living hues where the warm pencil pet And breathing forms from the rude marble How to life's humbler scene can I depor My breast all glowing from those go tow'rs, In my low cell how cheat the sullen b Vain the complaint: for Fancy can impr (To Fate superior, and to Fortune's door Whate'er adorns the stately storied h She, 'mid the dungeon's solitary gloom, Can dress the Graces in their Attic p Bid the green landscape's vernal beauty b And in bright trophies clothe the t wall. My rustic Muse her votive chaplet be Unseen, unheard, O Gray, to threshe Written in a Blank Leaf of Dugdale's Mo- While slowly pacing through the chare nasticon. dew, At curfew-time, beneath the dark gree Thy pensive genius strikes the morals Hears Cambria's bards devote the dreadi Or, borne sublime on Inspiration's Of Edward's race, with murthers foul s No, bard divine! For many a care be Can ought my pipe to reach thine er For many a raptur'd thought, and is By the sweet magic of thy soothing To thee this strain of gratitude 1 par Sonnet. WHILE Summer-suns o'er the gay play'd, [som Through Surry's verdant scenes, One of the bardish traditions about Stonehenge, 'Mid intermingling elms, her flow'ry meads; Talking he lov'd, and ne'er was more afflicted And Hascombe's hill, in tow'ring groves array'd, Than when he was disturb'd or contradicted; Rear'd its romantic steep with mind serene Yet still into his story she would break Ijourney'd blythe. Full pensive I return'd: With-"Tis not so; pray give me leave to For now my breast with hopeless passion burn'd; "speak. His friends thought this was a tyrannic rule, Wet with hoar mists appear'd the gaudy scene In King Arthur's Round Tuble at Winchester. marks obscure, of his immortal peers. To the River Lodon. R! what a weary race my feet have run, eh pleasure, more of sorrow, marks the scene. "meat." taught To entertain his friends with finding fault, The Bacon's rusty, and the Hens are tough. "Upon a Goose my Grannum kept to breed? "Why must old Pigeons, and they stale, be drest, more return, to cheer my evening road! Fet still one joy remains, that not obscure useless all my vacant days have flow'd, 'rom youth's gay dawn to manhood's prime" mature; with the Muse's laurel unbestow'd. "When there's so many squab ones in the nest ? This Beer is sour; 'tis musty, thick, and "stale, "And worse than any thing, except the Ale.", The Old Cheese. KING. UNG Slouch the farmer had a jolly wife, That knew all the conveniences of life, ose diligence and cleanliness supplied wit which Nature had to him denied: then she had a tongue that would be heard, I make a better man than Slouch afeard, s made censorious persons of the town Slouch could hardly call his soul his own;" , if he went abroad joo much, she'd use give him slippers, and lock up his shoes. I'm sure 'tis hard enough to make a Bowl: "This is'skim-milk, and therefore it shall go; And this, because 'tis Suffolk, follow too." But now Sue's patience did begin to waste; Nor longer could dissimulation last. Pray let me rise," says Sue, " my dear';''Pll "find "A Cheese perhaps may be to lovy's mind." Theo |