Me, fruitful scenes, and prospects waste,
Alike admonish not to roam;
These, tell me of enjoyment past,
And those, of sorrows yet to come.
THE rose had been wash'd, just wash'd in a show'r,
Which Mary to Anna convey'd,
The plentiful moisture incumber'd the flow'r,
And weigh'd down its beautiful head.
The cup was all fill'd, and the leaves were all wet,
And it seem'd, to a fanciful view,
To weep for the buds it had left with regret,
On the flourishing bush where it grew.
I hastily seiz'd it, unfit as it was,
For a nosegay, so dripping and drown'd,
And swinging it rudely, too rudely, alas!
I snapp'd it, it fell to the ground.
And such, I exclaim'd, is the pitiless part
Some act by the delicate mind,
Regardless of wringing and breaking a heart
Already to sorrow resign'd.
This elegant rose, had I shaken it less,
Might have bloom'd with its owner awhile,
And the tear that is wip'd, with a little address,
May be follow'd perhaps by a smile.
THE LOVE OF THE WORLD REPROVED;
THUS says the prophet of the Turk→
Good mussulman, abstain from pork;
There is a part in ev'ry swine
No friend or follower of mine
May taste, whate'er his inclination,
On pain of excommunication.
Such Mahomet's mysterious charge,
And thus he left the point at large.
Had he the sinful part express'd,
They might with safety eat the rest;
But, for one piece, they thought it hard
From the whole hog to be debarr'd,
And set their wit at work to find
What joint the prophet had in mind.
Much controversy straight arose--
These choose the back, the belly those;
By some 'tis confidently said
He meant not to forbid the head;
Whilst others at the doctrine rail,
And piously prefer the tail.
Thus conscience freed from ev'ry clog,
Mahometans eat up the hog.
You laugh-'tis well-The tale apply'd
Will make you laugh on t'other side.
Renounce the world-the preacher cries:
We do a multitude replies.
While one as innocent regards
A snug and friendly game at cards;
And one, whatever you may say,
Can see no evil in a play;
Some love a concert or a race;
And others shooting and the chase.
Revil'd and lov'd, renounc'd and follow'd,
Thus, bit by bit, the world is swallow'd;
Each thinks his neighbour makes too free,
Yet likes a slice as well as he;
With sophistry the sauce they sweeten,
Till quite from tail to snout 'tis eaten.
ADDRESS OF THE AUTHOR TO HIS BED.
THOU Bed, in which I first began
To be that various creature, Man;
And when again the fates decree,
The place where I must cease to be:
When sickness comes, to whom I fly,
To sooth my pain and close my eye;
When cares surround me, where I weep,
Or lose them all in balmy sleep;
When sore with labour, whom I court,
And to thy downy breast resort;
Where too extatic joy I find,
When deigns my Delia to be kind,
And full of love, in all her charms,
Thou giv'st the fair-one to my arms:
The centre thou, where joy and pain,
Disease and rest, alternate reign!
Oh! if within thy little space
So many diff'rent scenes have place,
Lessons as useful shalt thou teach
As sages dictate, churchmen preach ;
And man, convinc'd by thee alone,
This great important truth shall own,
That thin partitions do divide
The bounds where good and ill reside,
That nought is perfect here below,
But bliss still borders upon woe.
Saint James's Chronicle.
PLEASANTEST companion, This,
This in life is happiness ;
Early an estate to gain,
Left, not purchas'd by your pain;
Grounds that pay the tiller's hire;
Hearths with ever-during fire;
Safe from law enjoy your own,
Seldom view the busy town';
Health, with mod'rate vigour join'd;
True well-grounded peace of mind;
Friends, your equals in degree,
Prudent, plain simplicity;
Easy converse mirth afford,
Artless plenty fill the board;
Temp'rate joy your ev'ning's bless,
Free from care as from excess;
Short the night by sleep be made;
Chaste, not cheerless, be the bed;
Chuse to be but what you are;
Dying, neither wish, nor fear.
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