“ Lest, by unheeded whirlwinds driv'n, “ The pinnace frail some gust may overwhelm!

“ Hang out the friendly lamp, that clear “ From Error's perils she may safely steer; « Till death shall bid each trial cease, “ And moor the shatter'd bark in peace!"

ODE IX.

AGAINST DESPAIR.

BY JOSEPH WARTON, D. D.

Farewell thou dimpled cherub Joy,
Thou rose-crown'd, ever-smiling boy,
Wont thy sister Hope to lead
To dance along the primrose mead I
No more, bereft of happy hours,
I seek thy lute-resounding bowers,
But to yon ruin'd tower repair,
To meet the God of groans, Despair ;
Who, on that ivy-darken'd ground,
Still takes at eve his silent round,
Or sits yon new-made grave beside,
Where lies a frantic Suicide:
While labouring sighs my heart-strings break,
Thus to the sullen Power I speak:

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“ Haste, with thy poison'd dagger, haste, “ To pierce this sorrow-laden breast; " Or lead me at the dead of night, “ To some sea-beat mountain's height, “ Whence with headlong haste I'll leap “ To the dark bosom of the deep;

66 Or shew me far from human eye,
“ Some cave to muse in, starve, and die,
“No weeping friend or brother near,
“ My last fond, faltering words to hear!”

'Twas thus, with weight of woes opprest, I sought to ease my bruised breast : When straight more gloomy grew the shade, And lol a tall majestic maid ! Her limbs, not delicately fair, Robust, and of a martial air; She bore of steel a polish'd shield, Where highly-sculptur'd I beheld Th’ Athenian martyr smiling stand, The baleful goblet in his hand; Sparkled her eyes with lively flame, And Patience was the seraph's name; Sternly she look’d, and stern began“ Thy sorrows cease, complaining man, “ Rouse thy weak soul, appease thy moan, “ Soon are the clouds of sadness gone; 16 Tho' now in Grief's dark groves you walk, “Where grisly fiends around you stalk, “ Beyond a blissful city lies, “Far from whose gates each anguish flies : “ Take thou this shield, which once of yore “ Ulysses and Alcides wore, “ And which in later days I gave “ To Regulus and Raleigh brave;

“ In exile or in dungeon drear “ Their mighty minds could banish fear; “ Thy heart no tenfold woes shall feel, “ 'Twas Virtue temper'd the rough steel, « And, by her heavenly fingers wrought, “ To me the precious present brought.”

ODE X.

AGAINST ILL-NATURE.

BY CHRISTOPHER SMART, M. A.

OFFSPRING of Folly and of Pride,
To all that's odious, all that's base allied ;
Nurs'd up by Vice, by Pravity misled,

By pedant Affectation taught and bred :
Away, thou hideous hell-born sprite,

Go, with thy looks of dark design,

Sullen, sour, and saturnine;
Fly to some gloomy shade, nor blot the goodly light.

Thy planet was remote; when I was born;
'Twas Mercury that rul’d my natal morn,
What time the sun exerts his genial ray,
And ripens for enjoyment every growing day;
When to exist is but to love and sing,
And sprightly Aries smiles upon the spring.

There, in yon lonesome heath,

Which Flora, or Sylvanus never knew,

Where never vegetable drank the dew, Or beast or fowl attempts to breathe ;

Where Nature's pencil has no colours laid ;

But all is blank, and universal shade; Vol. XIII.

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