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How happy they who thus éscape while young,
TRANSLATION OF THE
FORTIETH ODE OF ANACREON.
PY ROBERT FARREN CHEETHAM.
Cupid once, in evil hour,
Wiping Love's tear-streaming eyes,
SONNET TO THE RIVER TWEED.
BY THE REV. W.L. BOWLES.
O Tweed! a stranger that, with wandering feet,
O'er hill and dale has journey'd many a mile;
If so his weary thoughts he might beguile, Delighted turns thy beauteous scenes to greet.
The waving branches that romantic bend
O'er thy steep banks, a soothing charm bestow; The murmur of thy wandering wave below, Seems to his ear the pity of a friend.
Delightful stream! though now along thy shore,
When spring returns in all her wonted pride, The shepherd's distant pipe is heard no more ;
Yet here with pensive peace could I abide, Far from the stormy world's tumultuous roar,
To muse upon thy banks at even tide.
VIRTUE'S REPLY TO PLEASURE.
"Tis with the gods and god-like men I dwell;
Me, his supreme delight, the Almighty sire Regards well pleased; whatever works excel,
All, or divine or human, I inspire.
Counsel with strength, and industry with art,
In union meet, conjoin'd with me reside;
The surest policy, the wisest guide.
Nor need my friends the various costly feast;
Hunger to them the effects of art supplies : Labour prepares their weary limbs to rest;
Sweet is their sleep; light, cheerful, strong they rise.
Through health, through joy, through pleasure and
renown, They tread my paths: and by a soft descent, At length to age all gently sinking down,
Look back with transport on a life well spent; In which no hour flew unimproved away, In which some generous deed distinguish'd every day.
And when, the destined term at length complete,
Their ashes rest in peace; eternal fame Sounds wide their praise : triumphant over fate,
In sacred song for ever lives their name.
This, Hercules, is happiness! obey
My voice, and live. Let thy celestial birth Lift and enlarge thy thoughts Behold the way
That leads to fame, and raises thee from earth. Immortal! lo, I guide thy steps. Arise, Pursue the glorious path, and claim thy native skies
HYMN TO CONTENT.
BY MRS. BARBAULD.
O Thou, the nymph with placid eye!
Receive my temperate vow:
And smooth unalter'd brow.
O come, in simplest vest array'd,
To bless my longing sight;
And chaste subdued delight.
No more by varying passions beat,
To find thy hermit cell;
Thy modest virtues dwell.
Simplicity in Attic vest,
And clear undaunted eye ;
A vista to the sky.
There Health, through whose calm bosom glide
That rarely ebb or flow;
To meet the offer'd blow.
Her influence taught the Phrygian sage
With settled smiles to meet :
And kiss'd thy sainted feet.