Page images
PDF
EPUB
[ocr errors][ocr errors]
[ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

L

O! where the rosy-bofom'd Hours

Fair Venus' train appear,
Disclose the long expecting flowers,
And wake the purple year!
The Attic warbler pours her throat,
Responsive to the cuckow's note,
The untaught harmony of spring :
While, whisp'ring pleasure as they fly,
Cool Zephyrs thro' the clear blue sky
Their gather'd fragrance fling.

Where-e'er the oak's thick branches ftretch
A broader browner shade ;
Where-e'er the rude and moss-grown beech
O'er-canopies the glade*,
Beside some water's rúshy brink
With me the muse shall fit, and think
(At ease reclin'd in rustic ftate)
How vain the ardour of the Crowd,
How low, how little are the Proud,
How indigent the Great!

Still is the toiling hand of Care ;
The panting herds repose;
Yet hark! how thro' the peopled air
The busy murmur glows!
The infect youth are on the wing,
Eager to taste the honied fpring,
And Aoat amid the liquid noon+:
Some lightly o'er the current kim,

bank,
O'er-canopied with luscious woodbine.

Shakf. Midf. Nig. Dream. + “ Nare per aeftatem liquidam"

Virg. Georg. lib. iv.

[ocr errors]

OD E.

[ocr errors]

Some shew their gayly-gilded trim
Quick-glancing to the fun *.

[ocr errors]

To Contemplation's sober eye +
Such is the race of Man;
And they that creep, and they that fly,
Shall end where they began.
Alike the Busy and the Gay
But Autter thro' life's little day,
In Fortune's varying colours drest;
Brush'd by the hand of rough Mischance,
Or chill'd by Age, their airy dance
They leave in duft to rest.

Methinks, I hear in accents low,
l'he sportive kind reply;

--Sporting with quick glance hew'd to the fun their waved coats drop'd with gold.

Milt. Par. Loft. Book vii. While insects from the threshold preach,&c.

M. Green, in the Grotto. Dodsley's Miscel, Vol. V. p. 161,

Poor Moralift! and what art thou ?

A solitary fly! "Thy joys no glittering female meets, No hive haft thou of hoarded sweets, No painted plumage to display : On hasty wings thy youth is flown.; Thy sun is set, thy spring is gone We frolic, while 'tis May.

« PreviousContinue »