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And see, with visionary haste,
Reality remains !
And slackens still the reins.
Ten thousand beauties round me throng:
To the distemper'd soul?
With groans the waters roll,
Ye gilded roofs, Palladian domes,
Ye were for misery made
Along th’ unhallow'd shade.
THE MAN OF PLEASURE.
By the Same.
Yes, to the Sages be it told,
Fair Pleasure's my pursuit ;
And cull the flowers and fruit.
Sweep, sweep the lute's enchanting string And all thy sweets, lov'd Luxury, bring!
• To enjoy is to obey;" The heavenly mandate still prevail, And let each unwise wretch bewail
The dire neglected day.
Ah! graceless wretch! to disobey,
And slight the gods decree!
Indeed my heart is free.
In Pleasure's ray see Nature shine,
“'Tis Folly to be wise :" Collusive term, poor vain pretence, Enjoyment sure is real Sense
In philosophic eyes.
I love the carol of the hound,
In dashing ecstasy;
And with him eager fly.
yes, I love, ye sneering wise ! Fair Honour, spurning still at lies,
As courting Liberty;
And all those joys are free.
And welcome thrice to British land,
Ye destin'd men of art;
At your admirer's heart.
Avert, ye gods! that curse of fools,
That dupery of sense:
Most easily dispense.
I catch each rapture as it flies,
And boon still follows boon:
Thus thro' my hours I fun!
But let me not for idle rhyme
Dear watch! thou art obey'd 'Twas thus the Man of Pleasure spoke, His jovial step then careless took
To Celia-or her maid.
BY JAMES BEATTIE, L: L. D.
When in the crimson cloud of Even
The lingering light decays,
His glittering gem displays;
Beside a lulling stream,
Indulged this tender theme.
Ye cliffs, in hoary grandeur pil'd
High o'er the glimmering dale; Ye woods, along whose windings wild
Murmurs the solemn gale ; Where Melancholy strays forlorn,
And Woe retires to weep, What time the wan moon's yellow horn
Gleams on the western deep:
To you, ye wastes, whose artless charms
Ne’er drew Ambition's eye,
· To your retreats I fly.