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ON THE DEATH OF A
DROWNED IN A TUB OF GOLD FISHES.
WAS on a lofty vafe's fide,
Where China's gayeft art had dy'd
The azure flowers, that blow;
Her conscious tail her joy declar'd;
The velvet of her paws,
Her coat, that with the tortoife vies,
Still had the gaz'd; but 'midst the tide
Their fcaly armour's Tyrian hue
The hapless Nymph with wonder faw:
A whisker first, and then a claw,
She stretch'd in vain to reach the prize.
Prefumptuous Maid! with looks intent
Eight times emerging from the flood
No Dolphin came, no Nereid stirr'd;
From hence, ye beauties, undeceiv'd,
Not all, that tempts your wandering eyes.
YE diftant fpiras, ye antique towers,
That crown the watery glade,
Where grateful Science still adores
And ye, that from the ftately brow
Of Windfor's heights th' expanfe below
Of grove, of lawn, of mead survey,
Whofe turf, whofe fhade, whofe flowers among
Wanders the hoary Thames along
His filver-winding way.
Ah, happy hills, ah, pleasing shade,,
Ah, fields belov'd in vain,
Where once my carelefs childhood stray'd,
A ftranger yet to pain!
*King Henry the Sixth, Founder of the College.
I feel the gales, that from ye
As waving fresh their gladfome wing,'
redolent of joy and youth,
To breathe a fecond fpring.
Say, Father Thames, for thou hast seen ́1
Full many a sprightly race
Difporting on thy margent green
Who foremost now delight to cleave
To chace the rolling circle's speed,
While fome on earnest business bent
Their murmuring labours ply
'Gainft graver hours, that bring constraint
To fweeten liberty:
Some bold adventurers difdain
The limits of their little reign,
And unknown regions dare descry:
Still as they run they look behind,
They hear a voice in every wind,
And fnatch a fearful joy.
*And bees their honey redolent of fpring.
Dryden's Fable on the Pythag. Syftem.
Gay Hope is theirs, by Fancy fed,
The tear forgot as foon as shed,
Theirs buxom health, of rofy hue;
Alas, regardless of their doom,
No fenfe have they of ills to come,
Yet fee how all around them wait
And black Misfortune's baleful train,
Thefe fhall the fury paffions tear,
Difdainful Anger, pallid Fear,
And Shame that fculks behind;
Or pining Love, fhall wafte their youth,