WAY, let nought to love difpleafing

A My Winifreda, move thy fear,

Let nought delay the heav'nly bleffing,
Nor fqueamish pride, nor gloomy care.

II.

What tho' no grants of royal donors
With pompous titles grace our blood,
We'll fhine in more substantial honours,
And to be noble we'll be good.
III.

What tho' from Fortune's lavish bounty
No mighty treasures we poffefs,
We'll find within our pittance plenty,
And be content without excefs.
IV.
Still shall each kind returning season,

Sufficient for our wishes give,

For we will live a life of reason,

And that's the only life to live.
V.

Our name, whilst virtue thus we tender,
Shall fweetly found where'er 'tis spoke,
And all the great ones much shall wonder,
How they admire fuch little folk.

VI.

Thro' youth and age in love excelling,
We'll hand in hand together tread,
Sweet fmiling Peace fhall crown our dwelling,
And babes, sweet smiling babes our bed.
VII.

How should I love the pretty creatures,
Whilft round my knees they fondly clung,
To see 'em look their mother's features,
To hear 'em lifp their mother's tongue.
VIH.

And when with envy time tranfported
Shall think to rob us of our joys,
You'll in your girls again be courted,
And I go wooing in my boys.

XXXXXXXXXXKXKX

The GENIUS.

An ODE, written in 1717, on occafion of the Duke of MARLBOROUGH's Apoplexy.

A

I.

WEFUL hero, Marlb'rough rife:

Sleepy charms I come to break :

Hither turn thy languid eyes :

Lo! thy Genius calls: awake!

II. Well

II.

Well furvey this faithful plan,
Which records thy life's great ftory;
'Tis a fhort, but crowded span,

Full of triumphs, full of glory.
III.

One by one thy deeds review,
Sieges, battles, thick appear;

Former wonders, loft in new,
Greatly fill each pompous year,

IV.

This is Blenheim's crimson field,

Wet with gore, with flaughter ftain'd!

Here retiring fquadrons yield,

And a bloodlefs wreath is gain'd!

V.

Ponder in thy godlike mind

All the wonders thou haft wrought;
Tyrants, from their pride declin'd,
Be the subject of thy thought!
VI.

Reft thee here, while life may last:
Th' utmoft blifs, to man allow'd,

Is to trace his actions past,

And to own them great and good,
VII.

Swift the fading fcenes removeLet them pass with noble fcorn,

Thine are worlds, which roll above.

VIII.

Poets, prophets, heroes, kings,
Pleas'd, thy ripe approach forefee;
Men, who acted wond'rous things,
Tho' they yield in fame to thee.
IX.

Foremost, in the patriot-band,
Shining with diftinguish'd day,
See thy friend, Godolphin ftand!
See! he beckons thee away.
X.

Yonder feats and fields of light
Let thy ravish'd thought explore;
Wishing, panting for thy flight!
Half an angel; man no more.

*<*>*(*}*{*}*<*}*<*}*{*}*{*}*

TRANSLATIONS from HORACE,

By Mr. MARRIOTT, of Trinity-Hall, Cambridge.

Book I. Ode XVIII. Invitation to his Mistress.

FT Faunus leaves Arcadia's plain,

OF

And to the Sabine hill retreats :

He guards my flocks from rushing rain,
From piercing winds, and fcorching heats.

Where

Where lurks the thyme, or fhrubs appear,
My wanton kids securely play;
My goats no pois'nous ferpent fear,

Safe wand'ring thro' the woodland way.

No hoftile wolf the fold invades ;
Uftica's pendent rocks rebound
My fong; and all the sylvan fhades,
By Echo taught, return the found.

The gods my verse propitious hear,
My head from every danger fhield:
For you, o'erflows the bounteous year,
And Plenty's horn hath heap'd my field.

Refponfive to the Teian ftring,

Within the fun-defended vale,
Here, foftly warbling you fhall fing
Each tender, tuneful, am'rous tale.

No rival, here, fhall burft the bands

That wreathe my charmer's beauteous hair,

Nor feize her weakly ftruggling hands;
But Love and Horace guard the fair.