Smiles on past misfortune's brow While hope prolongs our happier hour, CLIII T. Gray ODE TO SIMPLICITY O Thou, by Nature taught To breathe her genuine thought In numbers warmly pure, and sweetly strong; In Fancy, loveliest child, Thy babe, or Pleasure's, nursed the powers of song! Thou, who with hermit heart, And gauds, and pageant weeds, and trailing pall, In Attic robe array'd, O chaste, unboastful Nymph, to thee I call! By all the honey'd store On Hybla's thymy shore, By all her blooms and mingled murmurs dear; By her whose love-lorn woe In evening musings slow Soothed sweetly sad Electra's poet's ear By old Cephisus deep, Who spread his wavy sweep In warbled wanderings round thy green retreat ; On whose enamell'd side, When holy Freedom died, No equal haunt allured thy future feet : O sister meek of Truth, Thy sober aid and native charms infuse ! Still ask thy hand to range their order'd hues. While Rome could none esteem You loved her hills, and led her laureat band; To one distinguish'd throne ; And turn'd thy face, and fled her alter'd land. No more, in hall or bower, Love, only Love, her forceless numbers mean: Nor olive more, nor vine, Shall gain thy feet to bless the servile scene. Though taste, though genius, bless To some divine excess, Faints the cold work till thou inspire the whole; What each, what all supply May court, may charm our eye; Thou, only thou, canst raise the meeting soul ! Of these let others ask To aid some mighty task; I only seek to find thy temperate vale ; And all thy sons, O Nature! learn my tale. CLIV SOLITUDE W. Collins Happy the man, whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air In his own ground. Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Blest, who can unconcern'dly find Sound sleep by night; study and ease And innocence, which most does please Thus let me live, unseen, unknown; Steal from the world, and not a stone THE BLIND BOY say what is that thing call'd Light, What are the blessings of the sight, You talk or wondrous things you see, You say the sun shines bright; I feel him warm, but how can he My day or night myself I make With heavy sighs I often hear Then let not what I cannot have C. Cibber CLVI ON A FAVOURITE CAT, DROWNED IN A TUB OF GOLD FISHES 'Twas on a lofty vase's side, Where China's gayest art had dyed The azure flowers that blow, Demurest of the tabby kind The pensive Selima, reclined, Her conscious tail her joy declared : The velvet of her paws, Her coat that with the tortoise vies, Still had she gazed, but 'midst the tide The Genii of the stream: The hapless Nymph with wonder saw : She stretch'd, in vain, to reach the prize- Presumptuous maid! with looks intent Eight times emerging from the flood No Dolphin came, no Nereid stirr d, From hence, ye Beauties! undeceived Not all that tempts your wandering eyes Nor all that glisters, gold! T. Gray CLVII TO CHARLOTTE PULTENEY Timely blossom, Infant fair, |