86 THE BENEFIT RECEIVED BY HIS MAJESTY, He totter'd, reel'd, and died. 'Tis not for us, with rash surmise, &c. ON THE BENEFIT RECEIVED BY HIS MAJESTY IN THE YEAR 1789. O Sov'REIGN of an isle renown'd For undisputed sway With juster claim she builds at length Her empire on the sea, And well may boast the waves her strength Which strength restored to Thee. HOR. LIB. I. ODE IX. Vides, ut alta stet nive candidum Soracte; SEE'ST thou yon mountain laden with deep snow, The Come, thaw the cold, and lay a cheerful pile Broach the best cask, and make old winter smile This be our part-let Heaven dispose the rest; E'en let us shift to-morrow as we may, We at least shall have to say, We have liv'd another day; Your auburn locks will soon be silver'd o'er, Old age is at our heels, and youth returns no more. HOR. LIB. I. ODE 38. Persicos odi, puer, apparatus; Boy, I hate their empty shows, Plainer myrtle pleases me, Thus out-stretch'd beneath my vine, English Sapphics have been attempted, but with little success, because in our language we have no certain rules by which to determine the quantity. The following version was made merely in the way of experiment how far it might be possible to imitate a Latin Sapphic in English, without any attention to that cir cumstance. HOR. B. I. ODE 38. Boy! I detest all Persian fopperies, Task not thyself with any search, I charge thee, Where latest roses linger, Bring me alone (for thou wilt find that readily) Plain myrtle. Myrtle neither will disparage Thee occupied to serve me, or me drinking Beneath my vine's cool shelter. HOR. LIB. II. ODE 16. Otium Divos rogat in patenti. EASE is the weary merchant's pray'r, For ease the Mede with quiver graced, A blessing which no treasure buys: For neither gold can lull to rest, Happy the man, whose table shows No fear intrudes on his repose, Poor short-liv'd things, what plans we lay For self sticks close where'er we roam. Care follows hard; and soon o'ertakes The well rigg'd ship, the warlike steed, Her destin'd quarry ne'er forsakes, Not the wind flies with half her speed. From anxious fears of future ill Guard well the cheerful, happy Now; Gild ev'n your sorrows with a smile, No blessing is unmix'd below. Thy neighing steeds and lowing herds, And the best purple Tyre affords On me indulgent Heav'n bestow'd |