ADVICE TO A FRIEND. Gaze not, my friend, on Celia's eye, Where thousand loves in ambush wait; Now, while thou canst, the danger fly, Nor dare, like me, to tempt thy fate. Those charms I view'd in luckless hour, So through the air with winged force ODE TO A YOUNG LADY. Why thus decline my troubled eyes, Yet, dawning from my looks distrest Read ah too dear! the fond confession. In vain! what these soft tumults show, If sighs ascend, if blushes glow, What means the sigh, the blush unbidden. But hope not ever thus secure To dart thy wildly-wandering glances: On hasty wing thy youth advances. O, skilled in every graceful art That adds a polish'd charm to beauty; Be mine those pleasing cares t' impart. Which best refine the gentle heart, Be mine to teach the tender duty! ODE TO INES DE GUETE. Dearest, wouldst thou but believe 'Tis not, that cradled in thine eyes The baby Love, for ever lies On couches dipt in dew, 'Tis not, because those eyes have won Their temper'd light from April's sun, From heav'n-their tints of blue 'Tis not, that o'er a bank of snow Thy parted tresses lightly flow In bands of braided gold; No-dearest, no-but, from my soul, The cherish'd sweets of rest, And, ever since, from morn till night, E'en now, by Fancy's eyes are seen Yet, dearest, would'st thou but believe "Twould tell thee thou could'st ne'er impart A smile of thine to cheer a heart More truly bound to thee! 'Twould beg, with a beseeching sigh, One glance from Pity's meaning eye Its every pang to pay. "Twould hint, perchance, at happier hours, When Hope may strew her fairy flowers O'er life's bewilder'd way. Yet, should my days in sorrow flow, The frowns of Care I'd bravely meet, FANNY BLOOMING FAIR. With Fanny blooming fair, Who still unrival'd reigns, What virgin can compare, Come, Cambrian bards, and wave a beauteous chaplet rare, Of sweetest flow'rs, From Pindus' bow'rs, |