ALL NATURE PRONE TO LOVE.

Throw an apple up a hill,
Down the apple tumbles still;
Roll it down, it never stops
Till within the vale it drops:
So are all things prone to love,
All below, and all above.

Down the mountain flows the stream,
Up ascends the lambent flame ;
Smoke and vapour mount the skies,
All preserve their unities:

Nought below and nought above
Seem averse, but prone to love.

Stop the meteor in its flight, Or the orient rays of light; Bid Dan Phoebus not to shine, Bid the planets not incline: 'Tis as vain below, above. To impede the course of love.

Salamanders live in fire,
Eagles to the skies aspite ;
Diamonds in their quarries lie,
Rivers do the sea supply:
Thus appears, below, above,
A propensity to love.

Metals grow within the mine,
Luscious grapes upon the vine;
Still the needle marks the pole,
Parts are equal to the whole:
'Tis a truth as clear that love
Quickens all below, above.

Man is born to live and die,
Snakes to creep and birds to fly ;
Fishes in the waters swim,
Doves are mild and lions grim:
Nature thus, below, above,
Pushes all things on to love.

Does the cedar love the mountain, Or the thirsty deer the fountain? Does the shepherd love his crook, Or the miller court the brook? Thus by nature all things move, Like a running stream, to love.

Is the variant hero bold?
Does the miser doat on gold?
Seek the birds in spring to pair?
Breathes the rosebud scented air?

Should you this deny, you'll prove Nature is averse to love.

When young maidens courtship shun,
When the moon outshines the sun,
When the tigers lambs beget,
When the snow is black as jet,
When the planets cease to move,
Then shall nature cease to love.
Abraham Cowley.

INHABITS THE FINEST WITS.

Pro. Yet writers say, as in the sweetest bud

The eating canker dwells, so eating love
Inhabits in the finest wits of all.

Val. And writers say, as the most forward bud

Is eaten by the canker, ere it blow,
Even so by love the young and tender wit
Is turn'd to folly; blasting in the bud,
Losing his verdure even in the prime,
And all the fair effects of future hopes.

Pro. He after honour hunts, I after love: He leaves his friends, to dignify them more: I leave myself, my friends, and all for love. Thou, Julia, thou hast metamorphosed me; Made me neglect my studies, lose my time, War with good counsel, set the world at nought,

Made with musing weak, heartsick with thought. Shakespeare.