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6 Then to some far distant age,

“With a Patriot's just renown;

“ You shall grace the historic page,

“Girt with glory's laurel crown.

“ You shall live Sarmatia's pride,

“In the lofty porch of Fame; “ Future chiefs, or Senates guide,

“ And bequeath a deathless name.”

“ Sed Diis aliter visum !”

ANACREONTIC SONNET.

“ Huc vina, et unguenta, et nimium breves
“ Flores amænæ, ferre jube rosæ ;
“ Dum res, et ætas, et sororum
“ Fila trium patiuntur atra."

Horat.

PREPARE the bowl, and fill the glass;

Then let the moments as they pass,

Without a pang glide by;
Far from the splendid halls of state,
Far from afflictions that await,

And prudence e'en defy.

The feast let friendship ever share,
(That gem unsullied and most rare ;)

With sense and virtue join'd,
What can avail the festive day,

Or partial beauty's gentle sway ;

Without a kindred mind?

Together then forgetting care,
The envious world or fickle fair,

With ev'ry pain they bring ; Whether each early dream is crost,

Our vernal bloom and ardour lost,

We'll soothe the venom'd sting.

When these no longer joy afford,

The dimpled smile or social board,

When youth and love are o’er; Let me, kind Heav'n! as all decay, Glide down the current, blythe and gay,

Upon thy blissful shore.

SONNET

UPON A

LADY BEING STUNG BY A BEE,

IN A PADDOCK WHERE A FAVOURITE HUNTER WAS FOUND

DEAD.

Thou little insect! none would harm,

Or crush thy filmy wing;

Why vent on pensive Beauty's arm,

The venom of thy sting?

Could not the hive its treasure gain,

From each secluded dell;

Could not all Flora's bright domain,

Supply thy wondrous cell?

Yon fragrant bank with roses crown'd,

Where shrubs unnumber'd blow;

An harvest offers--all around,

E’en Hybla scarce could know.

“ Observe the reason"-Cupid cries,

" That made the rover trip;

“He knew much sweeter honey lies,

“ Upon her coral lip.”

Yet let her view the last retreat,

Of one-(tho old and lame ;)

Whose youthful pulse with vigour beat,

Thro' ev'ry change the same.

Unlike the courser poets feign,

Caress’d by ev'ry Muse ;*
Fed by their hands in Tempe's plain,

Upon Castalian dews.

Pegasus.

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