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Brutus for absent Porcia sighs,
What'is loose love? a transient gust,
And burn for ever one ;
Productive as the Sun.
What various joys on one attend,
Whether his hoary fire he spies,
What home-felt raptures move ?
With rev’rence, hope, and love. 36
Hence false tears, deceits, disguises,
Fires that scorch, yet dare not shine:
Sacred Hymen! these are thine ».
REMARKS. 2 These two Chorus's are enough to shew us his great talents for this species of Poetry, and to make us lament he did not prosecute his purpose in executing some plans he had chalked out ; but the Character of the Managers of Playhouses was what (he said) soon determined him to lay aside all thoughts of that nature.
ODE on SOLITUDE. L APPPY the man, whose with and care 11 A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air,
In his own ground. Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,
Whose flocks fupply him with attire,
In winter fire.
Hours, days, and years slide foft away, 10 In health of body, peace of mind,
. Quiet by day, Sound sleep by night; study and ease,
Together mixt; sweet recreation : And innocence, which most does please 15
Thus let me live, unseen, unknown,
Thus unlamented let me die, Steal from the world, and not a stone
Tell where I lie.
a This was a very early production of our Author, written at out twelve years old. P.
V ITAL spark of heav'nly flame:
Quit, oh quit this mortal frame:
Oh the pain, the bliss of dying!
Steals my senses, fhuts my sight,
- REMA R K 3. This ode was written in imitation of the famous fonnet of Hadrian to his departing foul ; but as much superior to his original in fenfe and sublimity, as the Christian Religion is to the Pagan,