"Now, grateful man rewards my pains, "And gives me all these wide domains; "At will I crop the year's encrease,

66

My latter life is rest and peace.

"I grant to man we lend our pains, “And aid him to correct the plains; "But doth not he divide the care,

66 Through all the labours of the year ? "How many thousand structures rise, "To fence us from inclement skies! "For us he bears the sultry day, "And stores up all our winter's hay; "He sows, he reaps the harvest's gain, "We share the toil and share the grain. "Since ev'ry creature was decreed "To aid each other's mutual need, "Appease your discontented mind, “And act the part by Heaven assign'd.”

The tumult ceas'd. The colt submitted, And, like his ancestors, was bitted.

THE COURT OF DEATH.-Gay.

DEATH, on a solemn night of state,
In all his pomp of terror sate;
Th' attendants of his gloomy reign,
Diseases dire, a ghastly train,

Crowd the vast court! With hollow tone,
A voice thus thunder'd from the throne:
"This night our minister we name,
"Let ev'ry servant speak his claim ;
"Merit shall bear this ebon wand."
All, at the word, stretch'd forth their hand.

Fever, with burning heat possest,
Advanc'd, and for the wand addrest :
"I to the weekly bills appeal,
"Let those express my fervent zeal;
"On ev'ry slight occasion near,
"With violence I persevere."

Next Gout appears, with limping pace,
Pleads how he shifts from place to place;
From head to foot how swift he flies,
And ev'ry joint and sinew plies;
Still working when he seems supprest,
A most tenacious stubborn guest.

Stone urged his ever-growing force;
And next, Consumption's meagre corse,
With feeble voice, that scarce was heard,

Broke with short coughs, his suit preferr'd:

"Let none object my ling'ring way,
"I gain, like Fabius, by delay,
"Fatigue and weaken ev'ry foe

"By long attack, secure, though slow."

Plague represents his rapid pow'r,

Who thinn'd a nation in an hour.

All spoke their claim, and hop'd the wand:
Now expectation hush'd the band,
When thus the monarch from the throne :
"Merit was ever modest known.

"What, no physician speak his right!
"None here; but fees their toils requite.
"Let, then, Intemp'rance take the wand,
"Who fills with gold their zealous hand.
"You, Fever, Gout, and all the rest
"(Whom wary men as foes detest)
"Forego your claim, no more pretend,
"Intemperance is esteem'd a friend;
"He shares their mirth, their social joys,
"And, as a courted guest, destroys ;
"The charge on him must justly fall,
"Who finds employment for you all."

THE TULIP AND THE VIOLET.

SEE yonder gaudy tulip rise,

And to the sun her leaves display ;
My fancy gives her voice and eyes,

And thus the boaster seems to say:

"Queen of the gay parterre I reign,

66

My glowing dies, how bright they shine! "The flow'rs unfold their bloom in vain, "No flow'r has charms to equal mine.

46

By nature meant for regal sway,
Tall and majestic I appear;
"Ye subject tribes, your queen obey,
My high command submissive hear.

66

"When I unfold my matchless bloom,
"And to the noon my beauties spread,
"Let no aspiring flow'r presume

"Near me to lift her abject head."

The flow'rs are silent while she speaks,
And only blush to hear her pride :
The silence when a vi'let breaks,
That crept, unheeded, by her side.

"Thy arrogance, imperious flow'r,

"To real worth has made thee blind;

Thy vaunted beauties of an hour,

"Are charms of an inferior kind.

"From thee no fragrant odours breathe, "No healing gifts thy leaves bestow;

"The flow'rs thou view'st with scorn beneath, "Can more pretence to merit show.

"The cowslip's virtues, and my own,
"Let man, let grateful man confess;
"To him our real worth is known;

"Thee he admires but for thy dress,”

The friendly hint, ye list'ning fair,
Reflection bids the Muse apply:
Let useful virtues be your care,

Nor boast your pow'r to please the eye.

THE FLY AND THE TROUT.

As near yon stream, the other day,
Soothed by the murm'ring current's play,
I thoughtless strolled along,
Behold! of largest growth, a fly
Adown the stream came glist'ning by,
The smaller flies among.

In sportive air it spread the sail,
And, o'er the rest, the flying gale

It caught with seeming pride;
Swiftly it skims the crystal waves,
Now in the purling eddy laves,

Now smoother seems to glide.

"What joy," (it said or seemed to say) "Thus on the sparkling stream to play, "And quit the fields of air! "How dull, because on wings they rise, "Is yonder crowd of vulgar flies,

"To float for ever there!

"Still let the timid sordid crew

"The same old beaten track

pursue,