Mutual Forbearance necessary to the Happiness of the married State.

Instead of harmony, 'tis jar

And tumult, and intestine war.

The love that cheers life's latest stage,

Proof against sickness and old age,
Preserv'd by virtue from declension,
Becomes not weary of attention;
But lives, when that exterior grace
Which first inspir'd the flame decays.
"Tis gentle, delicate, and kind,
To faults compassionate or blind,
And will with sympathy endure
Those evils it would gladly cure:

But angry, coarse, and harsh expression
Shows love to be a mere profession;

Proves that the heart is none of his

Or soon expels him if it is.

An Invitation into the Country.

TO THE REV. MR. NEWTON.

AN INVITATION INTO THE COUNTRY.

I.

THE Swallows in their torpid state
Compose their useless wing,

And bees in hives as idly wait

The call of early spring.

II.

The keenest frost that binds the stream,

The wildest wind that blows,

Are neither felt nor fear'd by them,

Secure of their repose.

But man, all feeling and awake,

The gloomy scene surveys;

With present ills his heart must ake,

And pant for brighter days.

An Invitation into the Country.

IV.

Old winter, halting o'er the mead,
Bids me and Mary mourn;

But lovely spring peeps o'er his head,

And whispers your return.

V.

Then April, with her sister May,
Shall chase him from the bow'rs,

And weave fresh garlands ev'ry day,
To crown the smiling hours.

VI.

And, if a tear, that speaks regret

Of happier times, appear,

A glimpse of joy, that we have met, Shall shine, and dry the tear.

Chloe and Euphelia.

TRANSLATION OF PRIOR'S

CHLOE AND EUPHELIA.

I.

MERCATOR, vigiles oculos ut fallere possit, Nomine sub ficto trans mare mittit opes; Lené sonat liquidumque meis Euphelia chordis, Sed solam exoptant te, mea vota, Chlöe.

II.

Ad speculum ornabat nitidos Euphelia crines, Cum dixit mea lux, heus, cane, sume lyram. Namque lyram juxtà positam cum carmine vidit, Suave quidem carmen dulcisonamque lyram.

III.

Fila lyræ vocemque paro, suspiria surgunt,
Et miscent numeris murmura mæsta meis,
Dumque tuæ memoro laudes, Euphelia, formæ,
Tota anima intereà pendet ab ore Chlöes.

Boadicea, an Ode.

IV.

Subrubet illa pudore, et contrahit altera frontem, Me torquet mea mens conscia, psallo, tremo; Atque Cupidineâ dixit Dea cincta corona,

Heu! fallendi artem

quam didicere parum.

BOADICEA:

AN ODE.

I.

WHEN the British warrior queen,
Bleeding from the Roman rods,

Sought, with an indignant mien,
Counsel of her country's gods.

II.

Sage beneath the spreading oak

Sat the Druid, hoary chief; Ev'ry burning word he spoke. Full of rage, and full of grief.