METRICAL REPORT Of a Medical Conversation between two Apothecaries, on a wet Day in October, while their Patient was expiring of a Dropsy PULSE doubly felt, and stay protracted I'm almost wetted to the skin). For though I've tartar tried, and squills, "Why, Sir, (I'm getting somewhat dryer; Or ore ab almost an ocean.” "True, Sir;-And yet on old Huck Saunders, The drastic you propose, was tried: They parted, to meet there no more- EPIGRAM. WHEN Rochester doubted if one of his fry, By disease or a cord would from life be ejected; "My Lord," quoth the wag," that depends whether I By your mistress or principles first am infected." G. H. D. BACCHANALIAN ODE. TO M. MENARD. FROM THE FRENCH OF RACAN. Now that Winter, with gloomy and rigorous sway, Hurls his tempests, his sleet, and his snow all the day, And keeps us besieg'd by the fire, Let us drown in the glass all our cares as we ought, I know, dear Menard, all the works that you write, your name Quit, quit then a toil which in vain you bestow ! More ruddy and bright will our nectar be found, "Tis wine that so swiftly speeds onward the years, "Tis wine that alone from the bosom bids fly The regret and remembrance of things now gone by, And the dread of the sorrows in store. Let us drink, dear Menard, let us fill high our glasses, For Time, stealing on, imperceptibly passes; He leads to the close of our course. "Twere in vain to entreat for a moment of grace, The Spring, cloth'd with light, and with verdure, and bloom, Shall quickly again chase the frost and the gloom; But when that at length rosy Youth quits the stage, The laws of stern Death seize resistless on all ! And the reed-cover'd hut of the swain. The Fates, when they please, destine man to the grave, And the thread of existence, in monarch and slave, By the same steel they sever in twain. By their tyrannous power nought on earth is rever'd, It strikes, and the things that eternal appear'd Like the visions of slumberers sink : By that power, dear Menard, we too soon shall be led,. In the regions of darkness and silence to tread, And the stream of oblivion to drink. R. A. DAVENPORT. ΤΟ ODE IN IMITATION OF HORACE, BOOK II. OD. 16. Otium Divos, &c. &c. FOR ease, the wearied Seaman sighs When cloudy night involves the skies, Nor moon, nor stars appear; For ease the hardy sons of war, For neither gold nor gems combin'd |