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The throb of emulation. Thou shalt give
A better lesson Puss !--come look at me!
Lift
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 With a blue ribband.

What a magic lies 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.

1

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 SONG.

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.

A. OPIE. 1793. The SONG of PLEASURE.

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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