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between the Lily and the Rose.

III.

Ira Rosam et meritis quæsita superbia tangunt, Multaque ferventi vix cohibenda sinû,

Dum sibi fautorum ciet undique nomina vatûm, Jusque suum, multo carmine fulta, probat.

IV.

Altior emicat illa, et celso vertice nutat,
Ceu flores inter non habitura parem,

Fastiditque alios, et nata videtur in usûs

Imperii, sceptrum, Flora quod ipsa gerat.

V.

Nec Dea non sensit civilis murmura rixæ,
Cui curæ est pictas pandere ruris opes.

Deliciasque suas nunquam non prompta tueri,

Dum licet et locus est, ut tueatur, adest.

VI.

Et tibi forma datur procerior omnibus, inquit,
Et tibi, principibus qui solet esse, color,

Et donec vincat quædam formosior ambas,
Et tibi reginæ nomen, et esto tibi.

Those Christians best deserve the Name, who make Peace a Duty.

VII.

His ubi sedatus furor est, petit utraque nympham,
Qualem inter Veneres Anglia sola parit;
Hanc penés imperium est, nihil optant amplius, hujus
Regnant in nitidis, et sine lite, genis.

THE

NIGHTINGALE AND GLOW-WORM.

A NIGHTINGALE, that all day long

Had cheer'd the village with his song,
Nor yet at eve his note suspended,
Nor yet when eventide was ended,
Began to feel, as well he might,
The keen demands of appetite;
When. looking eagerly around,
He spied far off, upon the ground,
A something shining in the dark,
And knew the glow-worm by his spark;

Those Christians best deserve the Name, who make Peace a Duty.

So, stooping down from hawthorn top,
He thought to put him in his crop.
The worm, aware of his intent,
Harangu'd him thus, right eloquent-
Did you admire my lamp, quoth he,
As much as I your minstrelsy,
You would abhor to do me wrong,
As much as I to spoil your song;
For 'twas the self-same pow'r divine
Taught you to sing, and me to shine;
That you with music, I with light,
Might beautify and cheer the night.
The songster heard his short oration,
And, warbling out his approbation,
Releas'd him, as my story tells,
And found a supper somewhere else.
Hence jarring sectaries may learn
Their real int'rest to discern ;
That brother should not war with brother,
And worry and devour each other;

Those Christians best deserve the Name, who make Peace a Duty.

But sing and shine by sweet consent,
Till life's poor transient night is spent,
Respecting in each other's case
The gifts of nature and of grace.

Those Christians best deserve the name
Who studiously make peace their aim;
Peace, both the duty and the prize
Of him that creeps and him that flies.

VOTUM.

O matutini rores, auræque salubres, O nemora, et lætæ rivis felicibus herbæ, Graminei colles, et amænæ in vallibus umbræ! Fata modò dederint quas olim in rure paterno Delicias, procul arte, procul formidine novi, Quam vellem ignotus, quod mens mea semper avebat, Ante larem proprium placidam expectare senectam,

When Freedom has been enjoyed, confinement is insupportable.

Tum demùm, exactis non infeliciter annis,
Sortiri tacitum lapidem, aut sub cespite condi!

ON A GOLDFINCH

STARVED TO DEATH IN HIS CAGE.

I.

TIME was when I was free as air,
The thistles downy seed my fare,

My drink the morning dew;

I perch'd at will on ev'ry spray,

My form genteel, my plumage gay,
My strains for ever new.

II.

But gaudy plumage, sprightly strain,

And form genteel were all in vain,

And of a transient date;

For, caught and cag'd, and starv'd to death,

In dying sighs my little breath,

Soon pass'd the wiry grate.

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