And destined all the treasure there
A gift to his expecting fair,
Climb'd like a squirrel to his dray,
And bore the worthlefs prize away.

Moral.

"Tis Providence alone fecures

In every change both mine and yours:
Safety confifts not in escape

From dangers of a frightful shape;
An earthquake may be bid to spare
The man that's ftrangled by a hair.
Fate steals along with filent tread,
Found ofteneft in what least we dread,
Frowns in the ftorm with angry brow,
But in the funshine strikes the blow.

ODE TO APOLLO.

On an Ink-glafs almoft dried in the Sun.

ATRON of all thofe lucklefs brains,
That, to the wrong fide leaning,
Indite much metre with much pains,
And little or no meaning.

Ah why, fince oceans, rivers, ftreams,
That water all the nations,

Pay tribute to thy glorious beams,
In conftant exhalations.

Why, stooping from the noon of day,

Too covetous of drink,

Apollo, haft thou stolen away

A poet's drop of ink?

Upborne into the viewless air,

It floats a vapour now, Impell'd through regions dense and rare By all the winds that blow.

Ordain'd perhaps ere summer flies,
Combined with millions more,

To form an Iris in the skies,
Though black and foul before.

Illuftrious drop! and happy then
Beyond the happiest lot,
Of all that ever paff'd my pen,
So foon to be forgot!

Phœbus, if fuch be thy defign,
To place it in thy bow,

Give wit, that what is left may shine

The filent

A COMPARISON.

HE lapfe of time and rivers is the fame, Both speed their journey with a restless ftream;

pace,

with which they steal away, No wealth can bribe, no prayers perfuade to stay; Alike irrevocable both when past,

And a wide ocean fwallows both at laft.
Though each resemble each in every part,

A difference ftrikes at length the mufing heart;
Streams never flow in vain; where ftreams abound,
How laughs the land with various plenty crown'd!
But time, that should enrich the nobler mind,
Neglected leaves a dreary waste behind.

ANOTHER.

Addreffed to a young Lady.

WEET ftream, that winds through yon

der glade,

Apt emblem of a virtuous maid

Silent and chafte fhe fteals along,

Far from the world's gay bufy throng;

With gentle yet prevailing force,
Intent upon her destined course;
Graceful and useful all she does,

Bleffing and bleft where'er she goes,
Pure bofom'd as that watery glass,
And heaven reflected in her face.

THE POET'S NEW-YEAR'S GIFT.

To Mrs. (afterwards Lady) Throckmorton.

ARIA! I have every good

For thee wish'd many a time,
Both fad, and in a cheerful mood,
But never yet in rhyme.

To wish thee fairer is no need,
More prudent, or more fprightly,
Or more ingenious, or more freed
From temper-flaws unfightly.

What favour then not yet poffeff'd
Can I for thee require,

In wedded love already blest,

To thy whole heart's defire?

None here is happy but in part:
Full blifs is blifs divine;

There dwells fome wish in every heart,
And doubtless one in thine.

That wish on fome fair future day,
Which Fate fhall brightly gild,
('Tis blameless, be it what it may)
I wish it all fulfill'd.

PAIRING TIME ANTICIPATED.

A Fable.

SHALL not ask Jean Jaques Rousseau*
If birds confabulate or no ;

"Tis clear, that they were always able

To hold difcourfe, at least in fable;

And e'en the child who knows no better
Than to interpret, by the letter,

A ftory of a cock and bull,

Must have a moft uncommon fkull.

It chanced then on a winter's day,
But warm, and bright, and calm as May,
The birds, conceiving a defign
To forestall sweet St. Valentine,
In many an orchard, copfe, and
Affembled on affairs of love,

grove,

* It was one of the whimsical speculations of this philosopher, that all fables, which ascribe reason and speech to animals, should be withheld from children, as being only vehicles of deception. But what child was ever deceived by them, or can be, against the evidence of his fenfes ?