III. THE CRICKET. LITTLE inmate, full of mirth, Thus thy praise shall be express'd, And the mouse with curious snout, Thou hast all thine heart's desire. Though in voice and shape they be Neither night nor dawn of day Sing, then—and extend thy span Wretched man, whose years are spent In repining discontent, Lives not, aged though he be, IV. THE PARROT. IN painted plumes superbly dress'd, Poll gains at length the British shore, Belinda's maids are soon preferr❜d, To qualify him more at large, Sweet Poll! his doting mistress cries, Sweet Poll! the mimic bird replies, And calls aloud for sack. She next instructs him in the kiss 'Tis now a little one, like Miss, And now a hearty smack. At first he aims at what he hears; ; And, listening close with both his ears, Just catches at the sound; But soon articulates aloud, Much to the amusement of the crowd, And stuns the neighbours round. A querulous old woman's voice Belinda and her bird! 'tis rare To meet with such a well match'd pair, The language and the tone, Each character in every part Sustain❜d with so much grace and art, And both in unison. When children first begin to spell, And stammer out a syllable, We think them tedious creatures ; But difficulties soon abate, When birds are to be taught to prate, And women are the teachers. TRANSLATION OF PRIOR'S CHLOE AND EUPHELIA. 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. 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. Fila lyræ vocemque paro, suspiria surgunt, Subrubet illa pudore, et contrahit altera frontem, Me torquet mea mens conscia, psallo, tremo ; Atque Cupidineâ dixit Dea cincta coronâ, Heu! fallendi artem quam didicere parum. INSCRIPTION FOR THE TOMB OF MR. HAMILTON. PAUSE here, and think: a monitory rhyme Consult life's silent clock, thy bounding vein; And many a tomb, like Hamilton's, aloud Exclaims "Prepare thee for an early shroud." EPITAPH ON A HARE. HERE lies, whom hound did ne'er pursue, Old Tiney, surliest of his kind, And to domestic bounds confined, |