So the best courfer on the plain

Ere yet he starts is known,

And does but at the goal obtain

What all had deem'd his own.

ODE то РЕАСЕ.

I.

COME, peace of mind, delighful gueft! Return and make thy downy neft

Once more in this fad heart:

Nor riches I; nor pow'r pursue,

Nor hold forbidden joys in view,

We therefore need not part.

II,

Where wilt thou dwell if not with me,

From av'rice and ambition free,

And pleasures fatal wiles?

For whom, alas! doft thou prepare

The fweets that I was wont to fhare,

The banquet of thy fmiles?

III.

The great,

the gay, fhall they partake

The heav'n that thou alone canft make,

And wilt thou quit the ftream

That murmurs through the dewy mead,

The grove and the fequefter'd shed,

To be a guest with them?

III.

For thee I panted, thee I priz'd,

For thee I gladly facrific'd

Whate'er I lov'd before,

And fhall I fee thee ftart away,

And helpless, hopeless, hear thee fay —
Farewell we meet no more?

HUMAN FRAILTY.

I.

WEAK and irrefolute is man;

The purpose of to day,

Woven with pains into his plan,

To morrow rends away.

II.

The bow well bent and smart the spring,

Vice feems already flain,

But paffion rudely fnaps the ftring,

And it revives again.

'Tis here the folly of the wife

Through all his art we view,

And while his tongue the charge denies,

His confcience owns it true.

VI.

But oars alone can ne'er prevail

To reach the distant coast,

The breath of heav'n must swell the fail,

Or all the toil is loft.

THE

MODERN PATRIOT.

I.

REBELLION is my theme all day,
I only wish 'twould come

(As who knows but perhaps it may)

A little nearer home.

II.

Yon roaring boys who rave and fight
On t'other fide the Atlantic,

I always held them in the right,

But most fo when most frantic.

III.

When lawless mobs infult the court,

That man fhall be my toast,

If breaking windows be the sport

Who bravely breaks the most

IV.

But oh! for him my fancy culls

The choiceft flow'rs fhe bears,

Who conftitutionally pulls

Your house about your ears.

V

Such civil broils are my delight,
Tho' fome folks can't endure 'em,

Who fay the mob are mad outright,

And that a rope muft cure 'em.

VI.

A rope! I wish we patriots had

Such ftrings for all who need 'em

What! hang a man for going mad?

Then farewell British freedom.

On obferving fome Names of little Note recorded in the

BIOGRAPHIA BRITANNICA.

OH fond attempt to give a deathless lot,

To names ignoble, born to be forgot!

In