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Whose pensive ear no wakeful sounds alarm,
Me let the cheerful dance engage,
Swift urg'd along the lighted dome; While with new warmth the virgin glows,
Her cheek all flush'd with fresher bloom: Motion and music tenderest thoughts inspire, And all her yielding soul relents to soft desire.
Let the sage Hermit shun mankind,
With pale-eyed Penitence to dwell,
Within a solitary cell;
Be mine, amidst the social band,
The raptures of champaign to taste, Whose vigorous juice new relish gives
To mutual converse, Reason's feast; While old Anacreon seems to'rise, and say, “Begone, ye toils of life, ye busy cares, away!”
BY THE REV. THOMAS PENROSE.
Hie thee hence! thou spectre foul,
Fiend of misery extreme;
Hence! nor o'er yon dwelling scowl
Hence!—from the artless bard keep wide aloof
Fly rather to his hated roof,
Can steel with rugged edge the soul :
But pass him by, the wooer mild
Constant toil, and coarsest fare,
In silent apathy may bear,
Rash Virgin,te thy praytr / yield:
Grignion saulp! London Printed for John Bell British Library Strand Nov!842791
PRINTED BY John Bell, British-Library, STRAND, okseller to His Royal Highness the PRINCE OF WALES.