ANA CRE ON.

O DE IX. IMITATED.

TEL

THE

DOVE.

ELL me, faid I, my beauteous Dove,
(If an ambaffadrefs from Love).

Tell me, on what foft errand fent,
Thy gentle flight is this way bent?

Ambrofial fweets thy pinions fhed
As in the quivering breeze they spread!

A meffage, fays the bird, I bear
From fond Anacreon to the fair;
A virgin of celestial grace!

The Venus of the human race!

Me,

Me, for an hymn, or amorous ode,
The Paphean Venus once bestowd
To the sweet bard; for whom I'd fly
Unwearied to the fartheft fky.

Thro' the foft air he bade me glide,
(See, to my wing his billet's ty'd)
And told me, 'twas his kind decree,
When I return'd, to set me free.

'Twould prove me but a fimple bird
To take Anacreon at his word:
Why should I hide me in the wood,
Or fearch for my precarious food,
When I've my mafter's leave to ftand
Cooing upon his friendly hand;
When I can be profufely fed
With crumbs of his ambrofial bread,
And welcom'd to his nectar bowl,
Sip the rich drops that fire the foul;
'Till in fantastic rounds I fpread
My fluttering pinions o'er his head:

Or if he ftrike the trembling wire,
I perch upon my fav'rite lyre;
'Till lull'd into luxuriant reft,
Sleep fteals upon my raptur'd breast.

Go, ftranger-to your bufinefs—go, I've told you all you wifh'd to know: Go, ftranger, and I think you'll fay, This prattling Dove's an arrant JAY.

THE

DAN C C E.

HA

ANACREONTIC.

ARK! the fpeaking ftrings invite,
Mufic calls us to delight:
See the maids in measures move,
Winding like the maze of love,
As they mingle, madly gay,
Sporting Hebe leads the way.

On each glowing cheek is fpread,
Rofy Cupid's native red;
And from ev'ry sparkling eye,
Pointed darts at random fly.

LOVE, and active YOUTH, advance.
Foremost in the fprightly dance.

As the magic numbers rife,
Through my veins the poifon flies;
Raptures, not to be expreft,

Revel in my throbbing breast.

Jocund

Jocund as we beat the ground,
LOVE and HARMONY go round.

Every maid (to crown his bliss)
Gives her youth a rofy kifs;
Such a kiss as might infpire
Thrilling raptures-soft defire:
Such Adonis might receive,
Such the Queen of Beauty gave,
When the conquer'd Goddess ftrove
(In the conscious myrtle grove)
To inflame the boy with love.

Let not Pride our sports reftrain,
Banish hence the Prude, DISDAIN!
Think-ye virgins, if you're coy,
Think-ye rob yourselves of joy;
Every moment you refuse,
So much extafy you lose:
Think-how fast these moments fly:
If you should too long deny,
Love and Beauty both will die.

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ANACREON.