To diftant caves the lonely wand'rer flies, The foes of man, or make a defart sweet. To meliorate and tame the stubborn foil, The grain or herb or plant that each demands, To To cherish virtue in an humble state, In colour thefe, and thofe delight the fmell, Employs, fhut out from more important views, THE THE DOVES. RE I.. EAS'NING at every step he treads, While meaner things, whom instinct leads, Are rarely known to stray. II. One filent eve I wander'd late, And heard the voice of love, The turtle thus addrefs'd her mate, III. Our mutual bond of faith and truth, No time fhall difengage, Those bleffings of our early youth, Shall cheer our latest age: VII. 'Tis then I feel myself a wife, And prefs thy wedded fide, Refolv'd an union form'd for life, Death never fhall divide. VIII. But oh! if fickle and unchafte (Forgive a tranfient thought) Thou could become unkind at laft,' And scorn thy prefent lot, IX. No need of light'nings from on high, Or kites with cruel beak, Denied th' endearments of thine eye This widow'd heart would break. X. Thus fang the sweet fequefter'd bird Soft as the paffing wind, And I recorded what I heard, A leffon for mankind, |