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Then, Virtue, to the helm repair,
Thou, Innocence, fhalt guide the oar;
My bark, thus mann'd, shall gain the shore.
BY JAMES SHIRLEY..
'HE glories of our birth and state,
Are Madows, not subftantial things;
Scepter and crown
Mult tumble down,
Some men with swords may reap the field,
And plant fresh laurels where they kill
Early or late
They stoop to fate,
* These fine moral Atanzas were originally intended for a solemn fue Meral fong in “ The Contention of Ajax and Ulysses.” It is said to have been a favourite song with King Charles II. PERCY. I. 270.
The laurel witbers on your brow,
Then boaft Do more your migbry deeds,
All beads must come
To the cold tomb:
BY DR. DALTON,
OR on beds of fading flowers,
Shedding soon their gawdy pride Nor with (wains in Syren bowers
Will true pleasure long reside.
On aweful Virtues hill sublime,
Enthroned fits th' immortal fair ;
The lteps are peril, toil, and care.
* In the Masque of Comus.-- It seems to be imitated from a passage in the 17th bouk of Talius Jerusalem.
BY MR. HOOL E.
Whose hopes on evil deeds depend !
Yet peace can ne'er their steps attend.
For ev'n in lifes serenest state,
Shall Vice receive her secret fting; As Virtue, though depress’d by fate,
Herself her own reward fall bring.
BY THE REV. THOMAS WARTON.
O tinkling brooks, to twilight shades,
To desert prospects rough and rude,
Enamour'd of sweet solitude.
Too soon my supple heart was caught:
Was all I talk'd of, all I thought.
On Pindus laureld top I dream,
* In the opera of Hypsipile.
Then Harmony and Picture came
Twin-nymphs my sense to entertain, By turns my eye, my ear was caught,
With Raphaels strokes and Handels ftrain.
At laft, such various pleasures prov'd,
All cloying, vain, unmanly found, Sweet for a time as morning dew,
Yet parents of some painful wound.
Humbly I ask'd great Wisdoms aid,
To true delight to lead my feet: When thus the goddess whispering said,
“ Virtue alone is bliss complete.”
VOME, come, my good shepherds, our flocks we muft
We harbour no passions, by luxury taught,
Sung by a Shepherdess, at the Sheep-fhearing in Florizel and Perdita.
By mode and caprice are the city dames led,
That giant Ambition we never can dread,
When love has poffefs'd us, that love we reveal;