The MISER'S Mifery.
HAT man in his wits had not rather be poor,
Than for lucre his freedom to give!
Ever bufy, the means of his life to secure,
And fo ever neglecting to live:.
Inviron'd from morning to night in a crowd,
Not a moment unbent or alone;
Conftrain'd to be abje&t, tho' never fo proud,
And at every one's call but his own.
Still repining, and longing for quiet each hour,
Yet ftudioufly flying it ftill;
With the means of enjoying his wish in his
But accurft with his wanting the will.
For a year must be paft, or a day must be come,
Before he has leifure to reft;
He must add to his ftore this or that pretty fum,
And then will have time to be bleft.
But his gains, more bewitching, the more they increase,
Only fwell the defire of his cye:
Such a wretch let mine enemy live if he please,
Let not even mine enemy die.
Coynefs more tolerable than Pride.
н, cruel beauty! cou'd you prove
More tender, or lefs fair,
You neither wou'd provoke my love,
Nor caufe me to despair;
But your diffembling charming eyes
My eafy hope beguiles,
And tho' a rock beneath them lics,
The tempting furface fmiles.
your fex on ours impos'd'
My humble love comply'd;
And when my fecret I difclos'd,
Thought modefty deny'd:
Yes, fure, faid I, her yielding heart
Partakes of my defire,
But nicer honour feigns this part,
To hide the rifing fire.
Against your mind, my fuit I told,
And flighted vows renew'd,
Yet you, infenfibly, were cold,
And I but vainly woo'd;
Then for return a fcorn prepare,
Or lay that frown aside :
Affected coynefs I can bear,
But hate infulting pride.
The Sweets of Contentment.
o glory I covet, no riches I want,
Ambition is nothing to me;
The one thing I beg of kind heav'n to grant,
Is a mind independent and free.
With paffion unruffled, untainted with pride,
By reafon my life let me fquare;
The wants of my nature are cheaply fupply'd;
And the reft is but folly and care.
The bleffings which providence freely has lent,
I'll justly and gratefully prize,
Whilft fweet meditation and chearful content
Shall make me both healthful and wife.
In the pleasures the great man's poffeffions difplay,
Unenvy'd, I'll challenge my part,
For every fair object my eyes can survey,
Contributes to gladden my heart.
How vainly, thro' infinite trouble and strife,
The many their labours employ!
Since all that is truly delightful in life,
Is what all, if they will, may enjoy.
s, on a fun-fhine fummer's day,
I to the green wood bent my way;
The lonely path my fancy took
Was guided by a filver brook:
And trust me, trust me, all I meant,
Was to be pleas'd, and innocent.
Upon its flow'ry bank I fate,
Regardless or of love or hate,
So took my pipe and 'gan to play
The jolly fhepherds roundelay:
And trust me, trust me, &c.
All in the felf-fame fhady grove,
Youthful Sylvia chanc'd to rove,
And, by its echo led, drew near,
My rural oaten reed to hear;
But furely, furely, all fhe meant, &c.
I held her by the glowing hand,:.
She fomething feem'd to understand;
Her fwelling fighs, her melting look,
That fomething too, too plainly spoke:
But trust me, trust me, &c.
When I beheld her flender waist,
Her iv'ry neck, her panting breast,
Her blooming cheek, her sparkling eye,
Gods! was there ought I cou'd deny :
But fure 'till then, all, all I meant,
Was to be pleas'd, and innocent.
When I her charms had wander'd o'er,
My heart was then my own no more ;
Into her circling arms I fell :
What follow'd then, I dare not tell;
We only both were in th’event.
Well pleas'd, if not fo innocents.
The Paffionate LovER.
H! forbear to bid me flight her; Soul and fenfes take her part: Cou'd my death itself delight her,
Life wou'd leap to leave my heart: Strong, tho' foft, a lover's chain, Charm'd with love, and pleas'd with pain.
Tho' the tender flame were dying,
Love wou'd light it at her eyes;
Or, her tuneful voice applying,
Thro' my ear, my foul furprize.
Deaf, I fee the fate I fhun!
Blind, I hear and am undone!
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