The hapless Nymph with wonder saw: A whisker fitft, and then a claw,

With many an ardent with, She stretch'd in vain to reach the prize. What female heart can gold despise ?

What Cat;'s averse to fish ?

Presumptuous Maid! with, looks intent Again she stretch'd, again the bent,

Nor knew the gulph between.
(Malignant Fate fate by, and smil'd)
The flippery verge her feet beguild,

She tumbled headlong in.
Eight times emerging from the flood
She mew'd to every watery god,

Some speedy aid to send.
No Dolphin came, no-Nereid stirr'd;
Nor cruel Tom, nor Sufan heard,

A favourite has no friend!

From hence, ye beauties, undeceiv'd,
Know, one falfe ftęp is ne'er retriev'd,

And be with caution, bold.
Not all, that tempts your wandering eyes
And heedless hearts, is lawful prize;

Not all that glifers, gold.

*

Y E distant fpires, ye antique towers,

That crown the watery glade,
Where grateful Science still adores
Her Henry's * holy shade ;
And ye, that from the stately brow
Of Windsor's heights th' expanse below
Of grove, of lawn, of mead furvey,
Whose turf, whofe fhade, whose flowers among
Wanders the hoary Thames along
His filver-winding way.

Ah, happy hills, ah, pleasing fhade,
Ah, fields belov'd in vain,

once my careless childhood stray'd,
yet to pain!

I feel

nry the Sixth, Founder of the College.

I feel the gales, that from ye blow,
A momentary bliss bestow,
As waving fresh their glad fome wing,
My weary soul they seem to sooth,
And, * redolent of joy and youth,
To breathe a second spring.

Say, Father Thames, for thou hast feen
Full many a sprightly race
Disporting on thy margent green
The paths of pleasure trace,
Who foremost now delight to cleave
With pliant arm thy glassy wave ?
The captive linnet which enthrall ?
What idle progeny succeed
To chace the rolling circle's fpeed,
Or urge the flying ball ?

While some on earnest business bent
Their murmuring labours ply
Gainst graver hours, that bring constraint
To sweeten liberty:
Some bold adventurers disdain
The limits of their little reign,
And unknown regions dare descry :
Stiff as they run they look behind,
They hear a voice in every wind,
And snatch a fearful joy.
* And bees their honey redolent of spring.

Dryden's Fable on the Pythag. Swat

Yet ah! why should they know their fate!
Since Sorrow never comes too late,
And Happiness too swiftly flies.
Thought would deftroy their paradise.
No more; where Ignorance is bliss,
'Tis folly to be wise.

HYMN

Τὸν φρονεῖν βρεθὺς ὁδώ-
σαλα, τῷ πάθει μαθὼν

Θέλα κυρίως ἔχειν

ÆSCHYLUS, in Agamemnone.

DAUGHTER of Jove, relentless Power,

Thou tamer of the human breaft,

Whofe iron scourge, and torturing hour,
The bad affright, affli&t the beft!

Bound in thy adamantine chain

The proud are taught to taste of pain,

And purple tyrants vainly groan

With pangs unfelt before, unpitied, and alone.

When first thy fire to send on earth
Virtue, his darling child, defign'd,
To thee he gave the heavenly birth,.
And bade to form her infant mind.
Stern rugged nurfe; thy rigid lore
With patience many a year the bore:

What forrow was, thou bad'ft her know,

And from her own fhe learn'd to melt at others woe.

Scar'd at thy frown terrific, fly

Self-pleafing Folly's idle brood,

Wild Laughter, Noife, and thoughtless Joy,

And leave us leifure to be good.