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Can life, can love be bought with gold ?
Are friendship’s pleasures to be sold ?
No—all that's worth a wiha thought,
Fair virtue gives unbrib’d, unbought.
Cease then on trash thy hopes to bind,
Let nobler views engage thy mind.
With Science tread the wondrous way,
Or learn the Muses' moral lay ;
In social hours indulge thy soul,
Where mirth and temperance mix the bowl ;
To virtuous love resign thy breast,
And be by blessing beauty-blest.

Thus taste the feast by nature spread,
Ere youth and all its joys are fled ;
Come taste with me the balm of life,
Secure from pomp, and wealth, and strife.
I boast whate'er for man was meant,
In health, and Stella, and content ;
And scorn, Oh! let that scorn be thine !
Mere things of clay, that dig the mine.


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HE shades defcend, and midnight o'er the world

Expands her fable wings. Great nature droops
Thro' all her works. Now happy he whose toil
Has o'er his languid powerless limbs diffus’d
A pleasing lassitude : He not in vain


Invokes the gentle deity of dreams :
His powers the most voluptuously dissolve
In soft repose : On him the balmy dews
Of sleep with double nutriment descend.
But would you sweetly waste the blank of night
In deep oblivion ; or on fancy's wings
Visit the paradise of happy dreams,
And waken cheerful as the lively morn ;
Oppress not nature finking down to rest
With feasts too late, too solid or too full.
But be the firft concoction half-matur'd,
Ere you to nightly indolence resign
Your passive faculties.

Learn temperance, friend; and hear without disdain
The choice of water. Thus the * Coan fage
Opin'd, and thus the learn'd of ev'ry school.
What least of foreign principles partakos
Is best : The lightest then ; what bears the touch
Of fire the least, and sooneft mounts in air :
The most infipid; the most void of smell.
Such the wide mountain from his horrid fides
Pours down ; such waters in the sandy vale
For ever boil, alike of winter frosts
And summer's heat fecure. The lucid stream,
O’er rocks resounding, or for many a mile
Hurl'd down the pebbly channel, wholesome yields
And mellow draughts ; except when winter thaws,
And half the mountains melt into the tide.

* Hippocrates.


Nothing like simple element dilutes
The food, or gives the chyle fo foon to Aow.
But where the stomach, indolently given,
Toys with its duty, animate with wine
Th' infipid stream : Tho' golden Ceres yields
A more voluptuous, a more sprightly draught ;
Perhaps more active. Wine unmix'd, and all
The gluey floods that from the vex'd abyss
Of fermentation spring ; with spirit fraught,
And furious with intoxicating fire,
Retard concoction, and preserve unthaw'd
Th' embodied mass.


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WHAT does not fade ? the tower that long had

The crush of thunder, and the warring winds,
Shook by the slow but sure destroyer time,
Now hangs in doubtful ruins o'er its bafe.
And Ainty pyramids, and walls of brass,
Descend; the Babylonian spires are funk;
Achaia, Rome, and Egypt moulder down.
Time shakes the stable tyranny of thrones,
And tottering empires rush by their own weight.
This huge rotundity we tread grows old ;


And all those worlds that roll around the fun;
The fun himself shall die ; and ancient night
Again involve the defolate abyss :
Till the great FATHER thro' the lifeless gloom
Exends his arm to light another world,
And bid new planets roll by other laws.
For thro' the regions of unbounded space,
Where unconfin'd Omnipotcncc has room,
BEING, in various systems fluctuates still
Between creation and abhorr'd decay ;
It ever did ; perhaps and ever will.
New worlds are still emerging from the deep;
The old descending, in their turns to rise.




FRAUGHT with a tranfient, frozen-shower,

If a cloud should haply lower,
Sailing o'er the landscape dark,
Mute on a sudden is the lark;
But when gleams the sun again
O'er the pearl-besprinkled plain,
And from behind his


Looks through the thin descending hail ;
She mounts, and lessening to the fight,
Salutes the blythe return of light,


And high her tuneful tract pursues
Mid th’ dim rainbows scatter'd hues.

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HE seasons all, harmonious as they roll,

Have each their separate use; to warm the soil With genial heat ;.to bid its moisture flow Thro' the fine fibres of the shooting plant Slow rais'd; to call thy fair affemblage forth, Triumphant beauty! daughter of the dawn! Queen of the rofy-smiling mead! to swell To full luxuriance thy gay-broider'd train, What time from laughing Ceres, o'er the field Loose drops the yellow sheaf; or when thy wing All-radiant on th' autumnal gale ascends, To pour rich juices thro' the fertile earth; That nature in her robe of living green, Deck'd like a bridegroom for his nuptial hour, All-breathing balm, may hail thy lov'd return,

Lost were this fair harmonious round, that wakes The soul to joy ; loft were the vivid bloom Of health that mantles on the cheek of youth In smiles : the herbage of the field would shrink Livid and lank, should constant summer scorch


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