If we're bleft, then he's happy, but if we're oppreft,
No eafe can be found in his generous breast ;
We are bleft in each other's endeavours to please ;
For what are all joys, if our friend's not at case!
Then don't, my dear Myra, true friendship disdain,
For friendship's a jewel no wealth can obtain !

YE fair married dames, who so often deplore,
That a lover once bleft is a lover no more:
Attend to my counfel, nor blush to be taught,
That prudence muft cherish, what beauty has caught.

The bloom of your cheek, and the glance of your eye,
Your rofes and lilies may make the men figh:
But rofes, and lilies, and fighs pafs away;
And paffion will dye, as your beauties decay.

Ufe the man that you wed, like your fav'rite guittar:
Though mufic in both, they are both apt to jar;
How tuneful and foft from a delicate touch,
Nor handled too roughly, nor play'd on too much!

The

;

The fparrow and linnet will feed from your hand,
Grow tame by your kindness, and come at command
Exert with your husband the fame happy fkill;
For hearts, like your birds, may be tam'd to your will.

Be gay and good-humor'd, complying and kind; Turn the chief of your care from your face to your mind:

'Tis there that a wife may her conquefts improve, And Hymen fhall rivet the fetters of love.

THE ROSE.

THE Rose had been wash'd, just wash'd in a show'r,
That Mary to Anna conveyed,

The plentiful moisture encumber'd the flow'r,
And weighed down its beautiful head.

The cup was all filled, and the leaves were all wet,
And it seemed to a fanciful view,

Το weep for the buds it had left with regret

On the flourishing bush where it grew:

I hastily feized it, unfit as it was

For a nofegay, fo dripping and drown'd, And fwinging it rudely,-too rudely alas ! I fnapped it, it fell to the ground.And fuch I exclaimed is the pitiless part,

Some act by the delicate mind;

Regardless of wringing and breaking a heart,
Already to forrow refigned.

This elegant Rofe, had I fhaken it lefs,

Might have bloom'd with its owner a while; And the tear that is wip'd with a little address, May be followed, perhaps, with a smile.

SERENE as the morning, the lark leaves its neft,
And fings a falute to the dawn;

The fun with his fplendor illumines the eaft,
And brightens the dew on the lawn.

Whilft the fons of debauch to indulgence give way,
And lumber the prime of their hours;
Let us, my dear Betfy, the garden furvey,
And make our remarks on the flow'rs.

The gay gaudy tulip, obferve as you walk,
How flaunting the glofs of its vest:

How proud and how stately it stands on its stalk,

In beauty's diversity dreft!

From the rofe, the carnation, the pink and the clove,
What odours delightfully fpring!

The fouth wafts a richer perfume to the grove,
As he brushes the leaves with his wing.

Apart from the reft, in her purple array,
The Violet humbly retreats;

In modeft concealment, fhe peeps on the day;

Yet none can excel her in fweets;

Se

So humble, that, tho' with unparallel'd grace,
She might e'en a palace adorn,

She oft in the hedge hides her innocent face,
And grows at the foot of the thorn.

So Beauty, my fair one, is doubly refin'd,
When Modesty heightens her charms;

When meeknefs, like thine, adds a gem to her mind,
Of malice its force it difarms.

Tho' Venus herself from her throne fhou'd defcend,
And the Graces await at her call;

To thee the gay world wou'd with preference bend,
And hail thee the Violet of all.

VICE AND VIRTUE.

AN ORIGINAL.

THE gaudy tulip, richly bright,

Fatigues the paufing eye;

And 'ere it fades, the noisome leaves,
Offend the fense and die.

But the young rofe, lefs gay than fweet,

The eye delights to bear;

Broke by the ftorm, and bent to earth,

Its fragrance ftill is there.

So flushes Vice the tainted cheek,
And fires the glowing eyes;
Yet leaves it wither'd by despair,
And pale repentant fighs.

While Virtue, shrinking from the storms
Of fortune, pride, and hate,
Still boafts the inward peace that shines
Beneath the clouds of fate.

A HINT TO THE FAIR.

YE fair poffeft of ev'ry charm

To captivate the will,

Whose fmiles can Rage herself difarm,
Whofe frowns at once can kill:
Say, will ye deign the verfe to hear,
Where flatt'ry bears no part;

An humble verfe that flows fincere,

Great is your pow'r, and greater yet,

Mankind it might engage,

If, as ye all can make a net,

Ye all would make a cage.

Each nymph a thoufand hearts might take,

For whofe's to beauty blind?

But to what end a pris'ner make,
Without the ftrength to bind ?

Attend