The cat became a blushing maid;

And, on the happy change, the boy
Employ'd his wonder and his joy.

Take care, O beauteous child, take care,
Left thou prefer so rafh a prayer :
Nor vainly hope, the queen of love
Will e'er thy favourite's charms improve.
O quickly from her shrine retreat;
Or tremble for thy darling's fate.

The queen of love, who foon will fee
Her own Adonis live in thee,
Will lightly her firft lofs deplore ;
Will easily forgive the boar:

Her

eyes with tears no more will flow; With jealous rage her breast will glow And, on her tabby rival's face,

She deep will mark her new difgrace.

AN O D E.

I.

:

WHILE from our looks, fair nymph, you guess

The secret paffions of our mind;

My heavy eyes, you fay, confefs,

A heart to love and grief inclin'd.
II.

There needs, alas! but little art,

To have this fatal fecret found; With the fame ease you threw the dart, 'Tis certain you may fhew the wound.

III. How

III.

How can I fee you, and not love,

While you as opening eaft are fair?
While cold as northern blasts you prove,
How can I love, and not despair ?
IV.

The wretch in double fetters bound
Your potent mercy may release:

Soon, if my love but once were crown'd,
Fair prophetess, my grief would ceafe.

A SON G.

IN vain you tell your parting lover,
You with fair winds may waft him over.
Alas! what winds can happy prove,
That bear me far from what I love?
Alas! what dangers on the main
Can equal thofe that I fuitain,
From flighted vows, and cold difdain?

Be gentle, and in pity choose
To with the wildeft tempefts loose :
That, thrown again upon the coaft
Where first my fhipwreck'd heart was loft,
I may once more repeat my pain;
Once more in dying notes complain
*Of flighted vows, and cold difdain.

}

The

The DESPAIRING SHEPHERD.

LEXIS fhunn'd his fellow-fwains, Their rural fports, and jocund ftrains : (Heaven guard us all from Cupid's bow!) He loft his crook, he left his flocks; And, wandering through the lonely rocks, He nourish'd endless woe.

The nymphs and fhepherds round him came His grief fome pity, others blame;

The fatal caufe all kindly feek:

He mingled his concern with theirs ;

He

gave

them back their friendly tears; He figh'd, but would not speak.

Clorinda came among the reft;
And the too kind concern expreft,

And afk'd the reason of his woe :
She afk'd, but with an air and mien,
That made it cafily forefeen,

She fear'd too much to know.

The fhepherd rais'd his mournful head;
And will you pardon me, he said,

While I the cruel truth reveal?

Which nothing from my breaft fhould tear; Which never fhould offend your ear,

But that you bid me tell.

'Tis thus I rove, 'tis thus complain, Since you appear'd upon the plain;

You are the cause of all my care: Your eyes ten thousand dangers dart; Ten thousand torments vex my heart: I love, and I defpair.

Too much, Alexis, I have heard:

'Tis what I thought; 'tis what I fear'd:

And yet I pardon you, she cried :
But you fhall promise ne'er again

To breathe your vows, or speak your pain
He bow'd, obey'd, and died.

:

To the Hon. CHARLES MONTAGUE, Efq. afterwards Earl of HALIFAX.

I.

HOWE'ER, 'tis well, that while mankind
Through fate's preverse mæander errs,

He can imagin'd pleasures find,

To combat against real cares.

II.

Fancies and notions he pursues,

Which ne'er had being but in thought;

Each, like the Grecian artift, wooes

The image he himself has wrought.

III.

Against experience he believes ;

He argues against demonstration; Pleas'd, when his reafon he deceives ;

And fets his judgement by his paffion.

IV. The

IV.

The hoary fool, who many days

Has ftruggled with continued sorrow,
Renews his hope, and blindly lays

The desperate bett upon to-morrow,
V.

To-morrow comes: 'tis noon, 'tis night;
This day like all the former flies:
Yet on he runs, to feek delight
To-morrow, till to-night he dies.
VI.

Our hopes, like towering falcons, aim
At objects in an airy height:
The little pleasure of the game
Is from afar to view the flight.
VII.

Our anxious pains we, all the day,

In fearch of what we like, employ: Scorning at night the worthlefs prey, We find the labour gave the joy. VIII.

At diftance through an artful glass

To the mind's eye things will appear: They lose their forins, and make a mass Confus'd and black, if brought too near. IX.

If we fee right, we see our woes:
Then what avails it to have eyes?
From ignorance our comfort flows:
The only wretched are the wife.

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