And thou, my great forefather, son of Jove,
O Hercules, neglect not these thy race!
But since that spirit I from thee derive,
Now bears me from them to resistless fate,
Do thou support their virtue. Be they taught
Like thee, with glorious labour life to grace,
And from their father let them learn to die!

THE HAPPY LIFE.

BY SIR HENRY WOTTON.

Who died in 1639.

How happy is he born or taught

That serveth not another's will;
Whose armour is his honest thought;
And simple truth his highest skill.

Whose passions not his masters are;
Whose soul is still prepar'd for death;

Not tied unto the world with care
Of prince's ear or vulgar breath;

Who hath his life from rumours freed,
Whose conscience is his strong retreat,
Whose state can neither flatterers feed,

Nor ruin make oppressors great:

Who envies none whom chance doth raise, Or vice; who never understood

How deepest wounds are given with praise; Nor rules of state, but rules of good.

Who God doth late and early pray
More of his grace than gifts to lend,
And entertains the harmless day

With a well-chosen book or friend!

This man is freed from servile bands
Of hope to rise, or fear to fall;
Lord of himself, though not of lands;
And having nothing, yet hath all.

ODE ON SWEETNESS.

BY ROBERTSON.

OF damask cheeks and radient eyes,

Let other poets tell;

Within the bosom of the fair

Superior beauties dwell,

There all the sprightly powers of wit
In blithe assemblage play;
There ev'ry social virtue sheds

Its intellectual ray.

But as the sun's refulgent light

Heav'n's wide expanse refines ; With sov❜reign lustre through the soul Celestial sweetness shines.

This mental beam dilates the heart,
And sparkles in the face;
It harmonizes every thought,

And heightens every grace.

One glimpse can soothe the troubled breast, The heaving sigh restrain!

Can make the bed of sickness please,

And stop the sense of pain.

Its power can charm the savage heart,
The tyrant's pity move:

To smiles convert the wildest rage,

And melt the soul to love.

When sweetness beams upon the throne,

In majesty benign,

The awful splendours of a crown

With milder lustre shine.

In scenes of poverty and woe,
Where melancholy dwells,
The influence of this living ray
The dreary gloom dispels.

Thus when the blooming Spring returns
To cheer the mournful plains,
Through earth and air, with genial warmth
Ethereal mildness reigns.

Beneath its bright auspicious beams
No boist'rous passions rise;
Moroseness quits the peaceful scenes,
And baleful discord flies.

A thousand nameless beauties spring,

A thousand virtues glow;

A smiling train of joys appear,
And endless blessings flow.

Unbounded Charity displays

Her sympathizing charms;

And Friendship's pure seraphic flame
The generous bosom warms.

Almighty love exerts his power,
And spreads with secret art
A soft sensation through the frame,
A transport through the heart,

2

Nor shall the storms of age, which cloud

Each gleam of sensual joy,

And blast the gaudy flower's pride,

These blest effects destroy.

When that fair form shall sink in years,
And all these graces fly,

The beauty of thy heavenly mind

Shall length of days defy.

THE SWALLOWS.

BY JAGO.

ERE yellow Autumn from our plains retir'd,

And gave to wintry storms the varied year, The swallow-race, with foresight clear inspir'd, To southern climes prepar'd their course to steer.

On Damon's roof a grave assembly sate;
His roof a refuge to the feather'd kind;
With serious look he mark'd the nice debate,
And to his Delia thus address'd his mind.

Observe yon twitt'ring flock, my gentle maid,

Observe and read the wondrous ways of Heav'n! With us through Summer's genial reign they staid,

And food and lodging to their wants were given.