The throb of emulation. Thou shalt give A better lesson Puss!-come look at me! up thine emerald eyes! aye, purr away, For I am praising thee I tell thee Puss, And Cats as well as Kings love flattery. For three whole days I heard an old Fur Gown Beprais'd, that made a Duke a Chancellor : Trust me, tho' I can sing most pleasantly Upon thy well-streak'd coat, to that said Fur I was not guilty of a single rhyme !
"Twas an old turn-coat Fur, that would sit easy And wrap round
any man, so it were tied
In beauty! thou on this forbidden ground
Mayest range, and when the Fellow looks at thee Straight he forgets the statute. Swell thy tail And stretch thy claws, most Democratic beast,
* The Statute that excludes Cats, Dogs, and all other singing birds, from the College precincts.
I like thine independance! treat thee well, Thou art as playful as young Innocence; But if we play the Governor, and break The social compact, God has given thee claws, And thou hast sense to use them. Oh! that man Would copy this thy wisdom! spaniel fool He crouches down and licks his tyrant's hand And courts oppression. Wiser animal I gaze on thee, familiar not enslaved, And thinking how Affection's gentle hand Leads by a hair the flarge-limb'd Elephant, With mingled pity and contempt behold His drivers goad the patient biped beast.
+ Always encounter petulance with gentleness, and perverseness with kindness: a gentle hand will lead the Elephant itself by a hair.
From the Persian Rosary, by Eddin Sadi. Enfield's History of Philosophy,
Think not while gayer swains invite Thy feet dear Girl, to pleasure's bowers, My faded form shall meet thy sight And cloud my Laura's smiling hours.
Thou art the world's delighted guest,
And all the young admire, is thine; Then I'll not wound thy gentle breast By numb'ring o'er the wounds of mine.
I will not say how well, how long,
This faithful heart has sigh'd for thee; But leave thee happier swains among, Content, if thou contented be.
But Laura, should Misfortune's wand Bid all thy youth's gay visions fly, From thy soft cheek the rose command, And force the lustre from thine eye;
Then, thoughtless of my own distress, I'll haste thy comforter to prove, And Laura shall my friendship bless Altho' alas! she scorns my love.
The genial influence of the day Had chased the lingering cold away, Borne upon the Zephyr's wing Sweetly smiled the radiant Spring, Her mild re-animating breath Wakes Nature from her wintry death, Attended by the laughing hours She rises clad in flowers,
And lightly as she trips along
The vernal warblers raise the song. Rich in a thousand radiant dies
Around her steps the flowrets rise, The Zephyr sports, the sun-beams sleep On the blue bosom of the deep.
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