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Thy Joys no glittering female meets,
No hive haft thou of hoarded fweets, No painted plumage to display: On hafty wings thy youth is flown; Thy fun is fet, thy fpring is gone-
We frolick, while 'tis May.
OD E
ON THE DEATH OF A
FAVOURITE CAT,
Drowned in a Tub of Gold Fishes.
O D E
WAS on a lofty vafe's fide,
"TW
Where China's gayeft art had dy'd
The azure flowers, that blow;
Demureft of the tabby kind,
The penfive Selima reclin'd,
Gazed on the lake below.
Her