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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 sweets, lov'd Luxury, bring !
“ To enjoy, is to obey :" · The heav'nly mandate Atill prevail, . And let each unwise wretch bewail
• The dire neglected day.
• Ah, graceless wretch! to difobey, • And devious quit the flow'ry way,
· And flight the gods' decree! Still, ftill, ye gods, the bleflings fend ! • If e'er my guilty hands offend,
• Indeed heart is free.
« Still hand in hand
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
• 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 ilios, * Each happy loss a gain supplies,
! And boon still follows boon : « The smile of beauty gilds my day, . Regardless of her frowns I ftray
! Thus thro' my hours I run!
But let me not for idle rhyme * Neglect, ungrateful, good old Time;
« Dear watch ! thou art obey'd.' 'Twas thus the Man of Pleasure spoke; His jovial step then careless took,
To Celia or her maid,
ON ON A SUPPOSED SLIGHT FROM
BY MISS ROBERTS.
HOU great Director of the soul,
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,
anxious mind distress'd! The past with secret tears I mourn ;
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 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, Ese
HE feather'd game that haunt the hoary plains,
When ice-bound winter hangs in chryftal chains ; The mimick thunder of the deep-mouth'd gun, By lightning after'd, and by death out-run ; The spaniel springing on the new-fall’n prey ; The friend attendant, and the spirits 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 skies;
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,