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Your school! I ask your pardon, Fair; That virtue was their fav’rite theme,
I'm sure you 'll find no iparrow there.

And toil and probiry their scheme :
Now to my tale-One summer's morn Such talk was hateful to her breast;
A Bee rang' o'er the verdant lawn ;

She thought them arrant prudes at best. Studious to husband ev'ry hour,

When to display her naughty mind, And make the most of cv'ry How'r.

Hunger with cruelty combin’d, Nimble from stalk to Italk the flics,

She view'd the Ant with favage eyes,
And loads with yellow wax her thighs; And hopp'd and hopp'd to snatch her prize.
With which the artist builds her comb,

The Lee, who watch'd her op'ning bill,
And keeps all tight and warm at home : And gucss'd her fell design to kill,
Or from the cowllip's golden bells

Alkd her from what her anger rose,
Sucks honey, to enrich her cells :

And why the treated Ants as foes ? Or ev'ry tempting role pursues,

The Sparrow her reply began, Or sips the lily's fragrant dews;

And thus the conversation ran : Yet never robs the thining bloom

Whenever I 'ın dilpos'd to dine, Or of its beauty or perfume.

I think the whole creation mine; Thus the dischargd in ev'ry way

That I'm a bird of high degree, The various duties of the day.

And ev'ry infect made for me.
It chanc'd a frugal Ant was near,

Hence oft I fearch the emmet-brood
Whofe brow was wrinkled o'er by care : (For emmets are delicious food),
A great æconomist was fhe,

And oft, in wantonnefs and play,
Nor less laborious than the Bee;

I Nay ten thousand in a day, By pensive parents often taught

For truth it is, without disguise, What ills arise from want oi thought ;

That I love mischief as my eyes. That poverty on floth depends;

Oh! fie! the honcft Bee replied, On poverty the loss of friends;

I fear you make base men your guide ;
Hence ev'ry day the Ant is found

Of ev'ry creature sure the worst,
With anxious iteps to tread the ground; Though in creation's scale the first!
With curious search to trace the grain, Ungrateful man! 'tis strange he thrives,
And drag the heavy load with pain.

Who burns the Bees to rob their hives!
The active Bee with pleasuie law

I hate his vile adıninistration, The Ant fulfil her parent's law.

And fo do all the cmmet nation. Ah! sister labourer, fuys the,

What fatal focs to birds are men, How very fortunate are we !

Quite to the Eagle from the Wren! Who, taught in infancy to know

O! do not men's example take, The coinforts which from labour flow,

Who mischief do for mischief's fake; Are independent of the great,

But spare the Ant her worth demands Nor kuow tlic wants of pride and state.

Efteein and friendship at your hands. Why is our food so very sweet?

mind with cv'ry virtue blest, Because we earn before we cat.

Must raise compassion in your breast. Why are our wants so very few?

Virtue! rejoin'd the sneering bird, Because we nature's calls pursue.

Where did you learn that Gothic word? Whence our complacency of mind ?

Since I was hatch'd, I never hear'd Because we act our parts allign’d.

Chat virtue was at all rever'd. Have we inceilant tasks to do?

But say it was the ancients' claim, Is not all nature busy too?

Yet moderns disavow the name ; Doth not the sun, with constant pace,

Unless, my dear, you read romances, Persift to run his annual race ?

I cannot reconcile your fancies. Do not the stars, which thine so bright, Virtue in fairy tales is seen Renew their courses ev'ry niglit?

To play the goddess or the queen ; Doth not the ox obedient bow

But what's a queen without the pow's His patient neck, and draw the plough

Or beauty, child, without a dow'r? Or when did e'er the gen'rous steed

Yet this is all that virtue brags, Withhold his labour or his speed ?

At best 'tis only worth in rags. If you all nature's system scan,

Such whims my very heart derides : The only idle thing is man.

Indeed you make me burst my sides. A wanton Sparrow long'd to hear

Trust me, Miss Bee-to speak the truth, Their fage discourse, and straight drew near. I 've copied men from carlicst youth; The bird was talkative and loud,

The same our taste, the same our school, And very pert and very proud ;

Passion and appetite our rule; As worthless and as vain a thing,

and call me bird, or call me finner, Perhaps, as ever wore a wing:

I'll ne'er forego my sport or dinner. She found, as on a spray the fat,

A prowling cat the miscreant spies, The little friends were deep in chat;

And wide expands her amber eyes :


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Near and more near Grimalkin draws; * As late with open mouth it lay,
She wags her tail, protends her paws;

· And warm'd it in the funny ray;
Then, Ipringing on her thoughtless prey, Stretch'd at its cafe the beast I view'd,
She bore the vicious bird away.

· And saw it eat the air for food.' Thus, in her cruelty and pride,

“ I've seen it, Sir, as well as you, The wicked wanton Sparrow died.

“ And must again affirm it bluc.

" At leisure I the bca survey'd, § 331. The Bears and Bees. MERRICK. “ Extended in the cooling Made." AS S two young Bears in wanton mond,

• 'Tis green, 'tis green, Sir, I assure ye.'Forth illuing from a neighb'ring wood,

“ Green !” cries the other in a furyCame where th' industrious Bees had stor'd “Why, Sir, d' ye think I've lost my eyes ?" In artful cells their luscious hoard;

• 'Twere no great loss,' the friend replies, D'erjoy'd they seiz'd with eager halte

• For, if they always serve you thus, Luxurious on the rich repaft,

· You 'll find them but of little use.' Alarm'd at this, the little crew

So high at last the conteft rose, About their ears vindictive fiew.

From words they almost came to blows: The beasts, unable to sustain

When luckily came by a thirdTh’unequal combat, quit the plain ;

To him the question they referr'd ; Half blind with rage, and mad with pain, And begg'd he'd tell 'em, if he knew Their native lhclter they regain;

Whether the thing was green or blue. There fit, and now, discreeter grown,

“ Sirs," cries the umpire, “ cease your pother, Too late their rashness they bemoan;

" The creature 's neither one nor other : And this by dear experience gain,

“ I caught the animal last night, That pleasure's ever bought with pain.

" And view'd it o'er by candle-light: So when the gilded baits of vice

“ I mark d it welltwas black as jetAre plac'd before our longing eyes,

“ You stare—but, Sirs, I 've got it yet, With greedy hafte we snatch our fill,

" And can produce it.” Pray, Sir, do: And swallow down the latent ill;

' I 'll lay my life, the thing is blue.' But when experience opes our eyes,

“ And I 'll be sworn, that when you 've seen Away the fancy'd pleasure flies :

“ The reptile, you 'll pronounce him greco. It flies, but oh! too late we find

Well then, at once, to ease the doubt,' It leaves a real sting behind.

Replies the man, · I'll turn him out:

And when before your eyes I've set him, $ 332. Tbe Camelion. MERRICK,

If you don't find him black, I 'll eat him.' OFT FT has it been my lot to mark

He said; then full before their sight A proud conceited talking spark,

Produc'd the beaf, and lo-'twas white. eyes, that hardly serv'd at most

Both star'd; the man look'd wondrous wise
To guard their master 'gainst a post;

My children," the Camelion cries
Yet round the world the blade has been, (Then first the creature found a tongue),
To see whatever could be seen:

i You all are right, and all are wrong: Returning from his finish d tour,

“ When next you talk of what you view, Grown ten times perter than before ;

“ Think others see as well as you : Whatever word you chance to drop,

“ Nor wonder, if you find that none The travellid fool your mouth will stop: “ Prefers your eye-light to his own.' “Sir, if my judgment you 'll allow"I've seen-and sure I ought to know". § 333. The Monkeys. A Tale. MERRICK. So begs you'd pay a due submission, And acquiesce in his decision.

WHEER, with curious eye, has rangid

Through Ovid's tales, has seen Two travellers of such a cast,

How Jove, incens’d, to Monkeys chang'd
As o'er Arabia's wilds they passid,

A tribe of worthless men.
And on their way in friendly chat
Now talk'd of this, and then of that,

Repentant foon, th’offending race
Discours'd a while, 'morgst other matter,

Entreat the injur'd pow'r Of the Camelion's form and nature.

To give them back the human face, "A stranger animal,” crics one,

And reason's aid restore. "Sure never liv'd beneath the sun:

Jove, footh'd at length, his car inclin'd, “ A lizard's body, lean and long,

And granted half their pray’r; A fith's head, a ferpent's tongue;

But t'other half he bade the wind " Its foot with triple claw disjoin'd;

Disperse in empty air. “ And what a length of tail behind ! " How flow its pace! and then its hue

Scarce had the thund'rer giv'n the nod

That thook the vaulted skies, “Who ever saw so fine a blue?"

With haughtier air the creatures strode, "Hold there,' the other quick replies,

And stretch'd their dwindled fize. ''Tis green,–1 saw it with these eyes,



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The hair in curts luxuriant now

Calls off from heavenly truth this reas'ning me, Around their temples fpread;

And tells me I'm a brute as much as he. The tail, that whilom hung below,

If, on fubliiner wings of love and praile, Now dangled from the head.

My soul above the starry vault I raise, The head remains unchang'd within,

Lurd by some vain conceit, or shameful lust, Nor alter'd much the facc;

I fag, 1 drop, and Autter in the duit. It still retains its native grin,

The tow'ring lark thus, from her lofty strain, And all its old grimace.

Storps to an enimet, or a barley grain. Thus half transform’d, and half the same,

By adverse gutis of jarring instincts tost,

Trove to onc, now to the other coast; Jove bade them take their place

To bliss unknown my lofty foul aspires, (Restoring them their ancient claim) Among the human race.

My lot unequal to my vast desires.

As 'mongst the hinds a child of royal birth Man with contempt the brute survey'd, l'inds his high pedigrec by conscious worth ; Nor would a namc bestow;

So man, amongit his fellow brutes expos de But woman lik'd the motley breed,

Sees he 's a king, but 'uis a king depos'd. And call’d the thing a beau.

Pity him, beasts! you by no law confin'd,

And barr'd from devious paths by being blind; § 334. Know Thyself. ARBUTHNOT,

Whilft man, through op'ning views of various WHAT am I ? how produc'd ? and for what ways end

Confounded, by the aid of knowledge strays ; Whence drew I being ? to what period tend : Too weak to choose, yet choosing still in hafte, Am I th' abandon’d orphan of blind chance, One moment gives the pleasure and disaste; Dropp'd by wild atoms in disorder'd dance? Bilk'd by past minutes, while the present cloy, Or from an endless chain of causes wrought, The flatt'ring future ftill must give the joy : And of unthinking substance, born with thought : Not happy, but amus'd upon the road, By motion which hegan without a cause, And (like you) thoughtless of his last abode, Supremely wife, without design or laws? Whether next sun his being shall restrain Am I but what I feem, mere flesh and blood ? To endless nothing, happiness, or pain. A branching channel, with a mazy flood? Around me, lo ! the thinking thoughtless crew The purple îtream that through my vefsels glides, (Bewilderd cach) their diff'rent paths pusfue; Dull and unconscious flows, like common tides; Of them I ask the way; the first replies, The pipes through which the ciicling juices ftray, Thou art a god; and sends me to the skies : Are not that thinking I, no more than they : Down on the turf, the next, twotwo-legs'd bçaft, This frame, compacted with tranfcendant ikill There fix thy lot, thy bliís and endless rest: Of moving joints obedient to my will,

Between the wide extremes the length is such, Nurs'd from the fruitful glcbc, like yonder tree, I find I know too little or too much. Waxes and wastes; I call it inine, not me. Alinighty Pow'r, by whosc most wise comNew matter still the mould ring inafs sustains ;

i mand, The manfion chang'd, the tenant still remains, Helples, forlorn, uncertain here I ftand; And from the fleeting stream, repair'd by food, * Take this faint glimm'ring of thyself away, Diftinét, as is the fivimmer from the flood. • Or break into my foul with perfect day!"

What am I then fure of a noblc birth; This faid, cxpanded lay the sacred text, By parent's right, I own as mother, Earth; The balm, the light, the guide of souls perplex'd. But claiın superior lineage by my tire,

Thus thc benightcd traveller, that strays Who warm'd th' unthinking clod with heavenly Through doubtful paths, enjoys the morning Ellence divine, with lifeleis clay allay'd, [fire; By double nature, donble instinct sway'd : The nightly mist, and thick descending dew, With Icok ereat, I dart my longing eye, Parting, unfold the fields and vaulted blue. Scem wing’d to part, and gain my native sky; O Truth divine! enlighten'd by thy ray, I strive to mount, but strive, alas ! in vain, • I grope and guess no more, but fce my way; Tied to this masiy globe with magic chain. • Thou cicar'dit the secret of my high defcent, Now with swift thought I range from pole to pole, · And told'ft me what those mystic tokens meant ; View worlds around their faming centres roll: • Marks of my birth, which I had worn in vain, What steady pow'rs their endless motions guide • Too hard for worldly fages to explain. Through the same trackless paths of boundless · Zeno's were vain, vain Epicurus' schemes, I trace the blazing comet's fiery tail, [void ! 'Their systems falsc, delusive were their dreams; And weigh the whirling planets in a scale; • Unskill'd my twofold nature to divide, These godlike thoughts while eager I pursue, • One nurs'd my pleasure, and one nurs’d my pride; Some glittring trifle offered to my view, • Those jarring truths which human art beguile, A gnat, an infect of the meanelt kind,

Thy facred page thus bids me reconcile.' Erate the ncir-born image from my mind : Offspring of God, no less thy pedigree, [be, Some beasily want, craving, importunato, What thou once wert, art now, and still may Vile as the grinning maliit at my gate, Thy God alone can tell, alonc decree;


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Faultless thou dropp'df from his unerring skill, | Our narrow luxuries would soon be ftale.
With the bare pow's to fin, fince free of will: Were these exhaustless, Nature would grow fick,
Yet charge na with thy guilt his bounteous love, And, cloy'd with pleasure, fqucamishly complain
For who has pow'r to walk has pow'r to rove : That all was vanity, and life a dream.
"l'ho acts by force impell’d can nought deserve; Let nature reft: be buly for yourself,
And wisdom thort of infinite may liverve. And for


be busy even in vain,
Rome on thy new-imp'd wings, thou took'st thy Rather than tease her fated appetites.
Leftthy Creator, and the realms of light; [Might, Who never fasts, no banquet c'er enjoys ;
Dildand his gentle precept to fulfil,

Who never toils or watches, never seeps.
And thought to grow a god by doing ill: Let nature reft: and when the taste of joy
Though ly foul guilt thy hcav’nly form defacia, Grows keen, indulge ; but shun fatiety.
la nature chang'd, from happy manlons chas'd, 'Tis not for mortals always to be bleft.
Thou still retain'st some sparks of heavenly fire, But him the least the dull or painful hours
Too faint to mount, yet restless to aspire ; Of life oppress, whom fober Sense conducis,
Angel cnough to seek thy bliss again,

And Virtue, thro' this labyrinth we trcad.
And brute enough to make thy Search in vain. Virtue and Senic I mcan not to disjoin;
The creatures row withdraw their kindly use, Virtue and Senle are one : and, trust me, he
Seme fly thce, fome torment, and some feduce; Who has not virtuc, is not truly wife.
Repait ill-fuited to such diff'rent guests, Virtue (for mere Good-nature is a fool)
For what thy sense desires, thy soul distastes; Is sense and spirit, with humanity :
Thy lust, thy curiosity, thy pride,

'Tis sometimes angry, and its frown confounds;
Curb’d or indulg'd, or baulk d, or gratified, 'Tis ev’n vindi&tive, but in vengeance juft.
Rage on, and make thee equally unbless'd [leís'd. Knaves fain would laugh at it; some great oncs
In włat thou want'st, and what thou last por- But at his heart the most undaunted lon (dare ;
Io rain thou hop's for bliss on this poor clod ; Of fortune dreads its name and awful charms.
Return and seek thy Father and thy God; To noblest uses this determines wealth :
Yet think not to regain thy native sky, This is the folid pomp of prosperous days,
Borne on the wings of vain philosophy! The peace and shelter of adversity.
Mysterious passage ! hid from human cycs; And if you pant for glory, build your fame
Soaring you'll link, and finking you will rise : On this foundation, which the secret shock
Let huinble thoughts thy wary footsteps guide; Defes of Envy and all-?apping Time.
kepair by meekness what you loft by pride. The gaudy gloss of Fortune only ftrikes

The vulgar eye: the suffrage of the wise,
335. Lofons of Wisdom. ARMSTRONG,

The praise that 's worth ambition, is attain'd

By sense alone and dignity of mind.
HOW to live happiest ; how avoid the pains, Virtue, the strength and beauty of the soul,

The disappointments, and disgusts of those Is the best gift of Heaven : a happiness
Who would in pleasure all their hours employ; That even above the smiles and frowns of fate
precepts here of a divine old man

Exalts grcat Nature's favourites : a wcalth
I could recite. Tho' old, he still retain'd That ne'er encumbers, nor to baser hands
His manly fense, and energy of mind.

Can be transferr'd: it is the only good
Virtuous and wise he was, but not levere ; Man justly boasts of, or can call his own.
He still remember'd that he once was young; Riches are oft by guilt and barenets earn'd;
His easy presence check'd no decent joy. Or dealt by chance to fhield a lucky knave,
Him even the diffolute admir'd; for he

Or throw a crucl sunshine on a fool,
A graceful loosencss when he pleas'd put on, But for one end, one much-negleEted use,
And laughing could instruct. Much had he read, Are riches worth your care (for Nature's wants
Much more had seen; he studied from the life, Are few, and without opulence supplied)
And in ch' original perus'd mankind.

This noble end is, to produce the Soul,
Vers'd in the woes and vanities of life,

To Thew the virtues in their faireft light;
He pitied man ; and much he pitied those

To make Humanity the mivister
Whom falsely-smiling fate has curs’d with means of bounteous Providence; and teach the breast
To dilsipate their days in quest of joy. That generous luxury the Gods enjoy.-
Our aim is happiness: 'tis yours, 'tis mine, Thus, in his graver vein, the friendly Sage
He said, 'tis the pursuit of all that live; Sometimes declaiın'd. Of right and wrong he
Yet few attain it, if 'twas e'er attain'd.

Truths as refin'd as ever Athens heard ; [taught
But they the widest wander from the mark, And (strange to tell!)he practis'd what he preach'd.
Who thro' the flow'ry paths of faunc'ring Joy
Seek this coy goddess ; that from stage to stage 1$ 336. The Pain arising from virtuous Emotions.
Invites us ftill, but thifts as wc pursue.
For, not to name the pains that pleasure hrings

attended witb Pleafiere. AKENSIDE.
To counterpoise itself, relentless Fate

BEHOLD the ways
Forbids that we thro' gay voluptuous wilds

Of Heaven's eternal destiny to man,
Should ever roam: and were the Fates more kind, For ever just, benevolent and wise :




That Virtue's awful steps, howe'er pursued Of regal envy, strew the public way
By vexing Fortune and intrusive Pain,

With hallow'd ruins when the muse's haunty
Should never be divided from her chaste, The marble porch where wisdom, wont to talk
Her fair attendant, Pleasure. Need I urge With Socrates or Tully, hears no more,
Thy tardy thought through all the various round Save the hoarse jargon of contentious monks,
Of this existence, that thy soft'ning soul Or female fuperstition's midnight pray'r ;-
At length may learn what energy the hand When ruthless rapine from the hand of Time
Of Virtue mingles in the bitter ride

Tcars the destroying fcythe, with lurer blow Of pallion swelling with distress and pain, To sweep the works of glory from their balc; To mitigate the sharp with gracious drops Till defolation o'er the grass-grown street Of cordial Pleasure: Ask the faithful youth, Expands his raven-wings, and up the wall, Why the cold urn of her whom long he lov'd Where fenates once the pride of monarchs doom'd, So ofien fills his arms; so often draws

Hiffes the gliding snake thro' hoary weeds His lonely footfteps, at the filent hour,

That clasp the mould'ringcolumn;--thus de fac'd, To pay the mournful tribute of his tears ? Thus widely mournful when the prospect thrills O! he will tell thec, that the wealth of worlds Thy beating bofom, when the patriot's tear Should ne'er leduce his bosom to forego Starts from thine eye, and thy extended arm That sacred hour, when, stealing from the noise In fancy hurls the thunderbolt of Jove Of care and envy, sweet remembrance fooths To fire the inpious wreath on Philip's brow, With virtue's kindest looks his aching breast, Or dash Octavius from the trophicd car;And turns his tears to rapturc.- Ask the crowd Say, does thy fecret foul repine to taste Which flics impatient from the village-walk The big distress? Or wouldit thou then exchange To climb the neighb’ring cliffs, when far below Those heart-ennobling forrows, for the lot The cruel winds have hurl'd upon :he coast Of him who fits amid the gaudy herd Some hapless bark; while sacred pity melts of mure barbarians bending to his nod, The gen'ral eye, or terror's icy hand

And hears aloft his gold-invested front, Smites their distorted limbs and horrent hair; And says within himself, “ I am a king, [woe While every mother closer to her breast “ And wherefore should the clam'rous voice of Catches her child, and, pointing where the waves" Intrude upon mine ear?" The baleful dregs Foam through the Shatter'd vessel, shrieks aloud, Of these late ages, this inglorious draught As one poor wretch, that spreads his piteous arms Of fervitude and folly, have not yet, For succour, swallow'd by the roaring lurge, Blufsd be th' Eternal Ruler of the world! As now another, dath'd against the rock, Defii'd to such a depth of fordid fhame Drops lifeless down. O deemest thou indeed The native honours of the human soul, No kind endearment here by nature giv'n Nor so effac'd the image of its fire. To mutual terror and compatrion's tears? No sweetly-melting softness which attracts, O'er all that edge of pain, the focial pow'rs § 337. A Paraphrafe on Psalm 1xxiv. 16, 19. To this their proper action and their end ?

Miss WILLIAMS. Ask thy own heart; when at the midnight hour, The day in thine, the night also is thine; thou has prepared the ligbe Slow through that studious gloom thy pausing eye Thour haft let ai the borders of the earth; thou haft made fumne Led by the glimm'ring taper moves around The lacred volumes of the dead, the songs My God! all nature owns thy sway, Of Grecian bards, and records writ by Fame Thou giv'st the night, and thou the day! For Grecian heroes, where the present pow'r When all thy lov'd creation wakes, Of heaven and carth surveys th' immortal page, When morning, rich in lustre, breaks, E'en as a father bleffing, while he reads And bathes in dew the op'ning flower, The praises of his fon; if then thy foul, To thee we owe her fragrant hour; Spurning the yoke of these inglorious days, And when the pours her choral song, Mix in their deeds and kindle with their Hame : Her melodies to thee belong! Say, when the prospect blackens on thy view; Or when, in paler tints array'd, When, rooted from the base, heroic states The evening Ilowly spreads her shade ; Mourn in the dust and tremble at the frown That soothing shade, that grateful glooms Of curs'd Ambition ;-when the pious band Can inore than day's eniiv’ning bloom Of youths that fought for freedom and their fires, Still er'ry fond and vain defire, Lie fide by side in gore;-when ruffian-pride And calmer, purer thoughts infpire ; Usurps the throne of justice, turns the pomp From earth the pensive fpirit free, Of public pow'r, the majesty of rule,

And lead the fofren'd heart to Thce.
The sword, the laurel, and the purple robe, In ev'ry scene thy hands have drefsid,
To javith empty pageants, to adorn

in ev'ry form by the impress'd,
A turant's walk, and glitter in the eyes Upon the mountain's awful head,
Of such as bow the knee ;-when honour'd urns Or where the thelt'ring woods are spread;
Of patriots and of chiefs, the awful bust In ev'ry note that livells the gale,
And storied arch, to glut the coward race Ortuneful stream that cheers the vale,


and fun.

and winter.

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