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These ears, alas ! for other notes repine;

A different object do these eyes require: My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine;

And in my breast the imperfect joys expire. Yet morning smiles the busy race to cheer,

And new-born pleasure brings to happier men: 10 The fields to all their wonted tribute bear:

To warm their little loves the birds complain:
I fruitless mourn to him that cannot hear,

the more, because I weep in vain.




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'Twas on a lofty vase's side, o
Where China's gayest art had dyed

The azure flowers that blow;
Demurest of the tabbyo kind,
The pensive Selima, reclined,

Gazed on the lake below.


Her conscious tail her joy declared;
The fair round face, the snowy beard,

The velvet of her paws,
Her coat, that with the tortoise vies,
Her ears of jet, and emerald eyes,

She saw; and purred applause.

10 15

Still had she gazed; but midst the tide
Two angel forms were seen to glide,

The Geniio of the stream:
Their scaly armor's Tyrian hueo
Through richest purple to the view

Betrayed a golden gleam.
The hapless nymph with wonder saw:
A whisker first, and then a claw,

With many an ardent wish,
She stretched, 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 stretched, again she bent,

Nor knew the gulf between.
(Malignant Fate sat by, and smiled,)
The slippery verge her feet beguiled,

She tumbled headlong in.
Eight timeso emerging from the flood,
She mewed to every watery God,

Some speedy aid to send.
No Dolphino came, no Nereido stirred;
Nor cruel Tom nor Susan heard,

A favorite has no friend!


From hence, ye beauties, undeceived,
Know, one false step is ne'er retrieved,

And be with caution bold.


Not all that tempts your wandering eyes
And heedless hearts is lawful prize.

Nor all, that glisters, gold.°


Φωνάντα συνετοίσιν· ες
Δε το παν ερμηνέων
Χατίζει. PINDAR. OLYMP. II. v. 152.

I. 1

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AWAKE, Æolian lyre, awake,
And give to rapture all thy trembling strings.
From Helicon's harmonious springs

A thousand rills their mazy progress take:
The laughing flowers that round them blow,
Drink life and fragrance as they flow.
Now the rich stream of music winds along,
Deep, majestic, smooth, and strong,
Through verdant dales, and Ceres' golden reigno:
Now rolling down the steep amain,

10 Headlong, impetuous, see it pour; The rocks and nodding groves rebellow to the roar.

I. 2

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Oh! Sovereign of the willing soul,
Parent of sweet and solemn-breathingo airs,
Enchanting shello! the sullen Cares

And frantic Passions hear thy soft control.



On Thracia's hills the Lord of Waro
Has curbed the fury of his car,
And dropt his thirsty lance at thy command.
Perching on the sceptred hando

Of Jove, thy magic lulls the feathered kingo
With ruffled plumes and flagging wing:
Quenched in dark clouds of slumber lie
The terror of his beak, and lightnings of his eye.

1. 3

Thee the voice, the dance, obey,

25 Tempered to thy warbled lay. O'er Idalia's velvet-greeno The rosy-crowned Loveso are seen On Cytherea's dayo: With antic Sport, and blue-eyed Pleasures, 30 Frisking light in frolic measures; Now pursuing, now retreating,

Now in circling troops they meet: To brisk notes in cadence beating, Glance their many-twinkling feet.

35 Slow melting strains their Queen's approach declare.

Where'er she turns, the Graces homage pay. With arms sublime, that float upon the air,

In gliding state she wins her easy way: O’er her warm cheek, and rising bosom, move 40 The bloom of young Desire and purple light of Love.

II. 1

Man's feeble race what ills awaito! Labor, and Penury, the racks of Pain, Disease, and Sorrow's weeping train,

And Death, sad refuge from the storms of fate! 45 The fondo complaint, my song, disprove, And justify the laws of Jove. Say, has he given in vain the heavenly Muse ? Night and all her sickly dews, Her spectres wan, and birds of boding cry,o He gives to range the dreary sky; Till down the eastern cliffs afaro Hyperion'so march they spy, and glittering shafts of



II. 2


In climes beyond the solar road,° Where shaggy forms o'er ice-built mountains roam, The Muse has broke the twilight gloom

To cheer the shivering native's dull abode. And oft, beneath the odorous shade Of Chili's boundless forests laid, She deigns to hear the savage youth repeat, 60 In loose numbers wildly sweet, Their feather-cinctured chiefs, and dusky loves. Her track, where'er the goddess roves, Glory pursue, and generous Shame, The unconquerable Mind, and freedom's holy flame.


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