Where-e'er the oak's thick branches ftretch

A broader browner shade;

Where-e'er the rude and mofs-grown beech O'er-canopies the glade*,

Befide fome water's rushy brink

With me the mufe fhall fit, and think
(At ease reclin❜d in rustic state)
How vain the ardour of the Crowd,
How low, how little are the Proud,
How indigent the Great!

Still is the toiling hand of Care;
The panting herds repose;
Yet hark! how thro' the peopled air
The bufy murmur glows!
The infect youth are on the wing,
Eager to tafle the honfed fpring,
And float amid the liquid noon +:
Some lightly o'er the current skim,

--------------- a bank, O'er-canopied with lufcious woodbine. Shak. Midf. Nig. Dream. +"Nare per aeftatem liquidam" Virg, Georg, lib. iv.

Some fhew their gayly-gilded trim
Quick-glancing to the fun *.

To Contemplation's fober eye +
Such is the race of Man;

And they that creep, and they that fly,
Shall end where they began.

Alike the Bufy and the Gay
But flutter thro' life's little day,
In Fortune's varying colours dreft;
Brush'd by the hand of rough Mifchance,
Or chill'd by Age, their airy dance
They leave in duft to rest.

Methinks, I hear in accents low,
The fportive kind reply ;

------fporting with quick glance
hew'd to the fun their waved coats drop'd

with gold.

Milt. Par. Loft. Book vii.

While infects from the threshold preach, &c.
M. Green, in the Grotto.
Dodfley's Mifcel, Vol. V. p. 161.

Poor Moralift! and what art thou?
A folitary fly!

"Thy joys no glittering female meets,
No hive haft thou of hoarded fweets,
No painted plumage to display:
On hafty wings thy youth is flown;
Thy fun is fet, thy fpring is gone
We frolic, while 'tis May.

O DE

ON THE DEATH OF A

FAVOURITE CAT,

Drowned in a Tub of Gold Fishes.

B