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- For her I breathe the joyful day; • For her thro’ Nature's wilds I stray,
• And cull the flow'rs and fruit.
• Sweep, sweep the lute's enchanting string, • And all thy fweets, lov'd Luxury, bring!
“ To enjoy, is to obey :" · The heav'nly mandate still prevail, . And let each unwise wretch bewail
· The dire neglected day.
• Ah, graceless wretch ! to difobey,
And Night the gods' decree!
* In Pleasure's ray see Nature fhine;
“ 'Tis folly to be wise."
• I love the carol of the hound,
• In dashing extasy:
And with him eager fly.
• And yes, I love, ye sneering wife! • Fair Honour, spurning still at lyes, • As courting Liberty ;
• Still hand in hand great Nature goes, • With joys to honour never foes,
• And all those joys are free.
• And welcome thrice to British land, • From Italy's voluptuous strand,
• Ye destin'd men of art; • Breathe on the thrilling, meaning found, * Each grace shall still be faithful found,
At your admirer's heart,
Avert, ye gods! that curse of faols, • The pride of theoretick rules,
· That dupery of sense: • I ne'er refuse the proffer'd joy, « With ev'ry good that can annoy
• Moft eafily dispense,
I catch each rapture as it flios, * Each happy loss a gain supplies,
¢ And boon still follows boon : « The smile of beauty gilds my day,
Regardless of her frowns I stray.. ! Thus thro' my hours I run !
But let me not for idle rhyme • Negleet, ungrateful, good old Time;
• Dear watch! thou art obey'd.' 'Twas thus the Man of Pleasure spoke; His jovial step then careless took,
To Çelia--of her maid,
ON A SUPPOSED SLIGHT FROM
BY MISS ROBERTS.
HOU great Director of the soul,
Who first to being call'd me forth ; Teach me my passions to controul,
Nor let my nature lose it's worth.
Bred in Adversity's sad school,
My dearest wishes ever cross’d;
Which make these dear-bought lessons loft?
Alas! by various evils torn,
How is my anxious mind distress'd!
The present seldom gives me reft.
To future prospects if I fly,
Ah, me! what hopes can they bestow ?
With aught but lengthen'd scenes of woe?
In early bloom, in life's first prime,
To Love and Friendship still inclin'd ;
Romantick pleasures fill'd my mind.
But now, alas! those phantoms fled,
By youth's light hand so gaily dress'd; My worn-out mind, to Love grown dead,
I thought myself in Friendship bless’d.
But disappointments ftill attend
The mind to earth-born pleasures prone: Look up, my soul, behold thy FRIEND,
And bend before his awful throne.
• Father ador'd, incline thine ear
To her, whose heart afflictions press; " Whose mind, tho’ weak, thou know'st sincere:
• Oh! calm, and make her feelings less !
• Lend me, O gracious God! thine aid;
Vouchsafe to rectify my heart: · Thy goodness, on thy work display'd,
« Will lead me to the better part!'
THE ACADEMICK SPORTSMAN;
OR, A WINTER'S DAY.
BY GERALD FITZGERALD, ESO HE feather'd game that haunt the hoary plains,
When ice-bound winter hangs in chrystal chains ; The mimick thunder of the deep-mouth'd gun, By lightning uller'd, and by death out-run ; The spaniel springing on the new-fall'n prey ; The friend attendant, and the fpirits gay : These are the scenes which lur'd my earliest days ; And scenes like these continue still to please.
Oft, when I've seen the new-fledg'd morn arise, And spread it's pinions to the polar kies;
Th' expanded air with gelid fragrance fan,
But we, my friend, with aims far diff'rent borne,
To yonder vales that spread beneath the hills,