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Tfcra W thus br gan to plain;
"Oh1 rUtme—1 die with pain
* star sr».-nma, a serpent small,
"Vshith a bee the ploughmen call,
* lap'd with wings, and arm'd with dart, "Ofc'—hat flung me to the heart."
Venus thus reply'd, and smil'd;
lew set us gaily drink, and join
Revelry be nam'd his heir .
When in large bowls fair boys produce
And what hereafter may betide
No living casuist can decide. 2«
The days of man are fix'd by fate,
Then let me, warm with wine, advance,
When Bacchus, jolly god, invites,
In sprightly dance my heart delights;
When with blithe youths I drain the bowl,
The lyre can harmonize my foul:
But when, indulging amorous play
I frolic with the fair and gay,
With hyacinthine chaplct crown'd,
Then, then the sweetest joys abound;
My honest heart nor envy bears,
Nor envy's poison'd arrows fears; j»
By rankling malice never stung,
1 shun the venom-venting tongue.
And at the jovial banquet hate
Contentions, battles, and debate:
When to the lyre's melodious lound
With Phyllis in the dance 1 bound,
The blooming fair, the silver lyre,
Should enly dance and love inspire:
Then let us pals life's peaceful day
in mirth and innocence away. i%
Thee, sweet fjrashcpper, we can
Free from flesh, exempt from pains,
I Dkeam'b that late I pinions wore,
And swiftly seem'd thn-ugh air to soar;
Me fleeter Cupid quick as thought,
Pursu'd, and in an instant caught,
Though at his feet hung weights of lead:
What can this vision mean, I said?
Its mystic fense I thus explain;
I who ere while have worn the chain
Of many a fair-one for a day,
Then flung the flowery band away, 10
Am now involv'd and fetter'd fast
Ib links that will for ever last.
By another Hand.
As the god of manual arts ,
Forg'd at I.emnos missile darts,
Whether led by will or chance,
* Fit for childien to employ."
* Toys indeed, for children fit: ■ But, if I divine aright,
* Take it this is not so flight." 40
Man receives it; Venus smiles
At her son's wcll-season'd wiles.
* Keep it, Mars, "tis but a toy." 30
Love's a pain that works our woe;
What avails ingenuous wotth.
May he be completely curst,
Yx», yes, I own, I love to fee
By Dr. Brocmc.
Give me Homer's tuneful lyre,
Boy, reach that volume—book divine '.
WuitE you my lyre's soft number* hear,
hirst draw a nation blithe and gay,
And, if yon cm perfection give,
Sy Dr, Broome.
Tic Haffv arrecTs or Wine.
5m' see' the jolly god appears,
Hi« hind a mighty goblet bears;
With sparkling wine full char^'d it flows,
The sot'reijin cure of human woes
Vice gives a kird release from care, Ar>d courage to subdue the fair j lajbxcti the cheerful to advance, Hmnonioua in the sprightly dance. Hail, goblet, rich with generous wines! See: round the verge a vine-branch twines. 10 See' how the mimic clusters rell, As ready to rcsil the bowl.
Wine keeps its happy patients free
0* A DISK, REPRISENTING VIRUS.
Rare artist, whose inventive skill
CoaU this orb with wonders fill!
Where the mimic ocean glides
Sort with the well dissembled tides;
The waves seem floating, and above
Sudcs the beauteous queen of love:
The workman's fancy mounted high,
Ard stole th' idea from the sky.
Transporting sight!—the waves conceal
Bat what 'twere impious to reveal! 10
g>»_ like some flower all blossom'd gay;
Sfciaes along the smiling way.
The amorous waters, as she swims,
Crowd to embrace her snowy limbs;
Then, proudly swelling to be prest,
Beneath her snowy fragrant breast,
Ajnistioosty uprise on high,
Asai lift the goddess to tie iky:
Aad, while her lucid limbs they lave,
She brightens the transparent wave; 30
So violets enlighten'd glow,
sorroanded by the lily's snow.
Bat fee \ a lovely smiling train,
Dancing around In shoals they play,
Rare art, that life to phantoms gives!
By Dr. Broome,
GRAPES, OR THI VINTAGE.
lo! the vintage now is done!
And purpled with th* autumnal fun:
The grapes gay youths and virgins bear,
The sweetest product os the year '.
In vats the heavenly load they lay,
And swift the damsels trip away f
The youths alone the wine-press tread,
For wine's by skilful drunkards made.
Meantime the mirthful song they raise,
lo! Bacchus to thy praise! Jq
And viewing the blest juice in thought,
Quaff an imaginary draught.
v lily through wine the old advance,
Through wine the youth completes his loves • He haunts the silence of the groves: ,
Where stretch'd beneath th' embowering shade
On beds of rosy sweets she lies,
Blessing the grapes that could dispense
. ODE LI II.
By Dr. Broome.
Come, lyrist, tune thy harp, and play
To heaven the rose in fragrance flies,
Thee Venus, queen of beauty, loves,
In fabled song, and tuneful lays,
Nor dread the pointed terrors round,
That threaten and inflict a wound:
See! how they wave the charming toy,
Now kiss, now snuff the fragrant joy. 20
The rose the poets strive to j raise.
Lovely smiling rose, how sweet
The graces more enchanting (how,
When pain afflicts, or sickness grieves,
Ttiumphant o'er the rage of time,
Come, lyrist, join to sing the birth
When Venus from the ocean's bed
And, " This," she cry'd, " I this ordain
But first, th' assembled gods debate
The gods to Bacchus gave the slower,
By Dr. Brotnt.
Wills sprightly youth my eyes survey,
Haste, crown, Cybeba, crown my brows,
Come then, my friends, the goblet drain!
See! how with active bounds 1 spring!
How blest am I, who thus excel fa pleating arts of trifling well I
By Dr. Brume.
Tut stately steed expressive bears
A mark imprinted on his hairs:
The turban, that adorns the brows
Of Asia's sons, the Parthian shows:
And mark* betray the lover's heart, * j
Deeply engrav'd by Cupid's dart:
I plainly read them in his eyes,
That look too foolish, or too wise.
By Dr. Brotnt.
Alas! the powers of life decay!
For this, and for the grave I fear,
For this the mournful groan I shed,
THAT WE SHOULD DRINK WITH MODERATION.
Bring hither, boy, a mighty bowl,
Quick, boy, dispatch—My friends, no more.
Let us, while music tunes the soul,
As late of flo-w'rets fresh and fair
I wove a chaplet for my hair,
Beneath a rose, gay summer's pride,
The wanton god of love I spy'd,
I seiz'd him, resolute of soul,
And pluug'd him in my slowing bowl,
Resolv'd to have a draught divine,
And fairly swallow'd him in wine:
E'er since hit fluttering wings impart
Strange titillationi to my heart. £s«£ SDE LIX.
T« A ICHNPBL BEAUTf.
Wit thus with scornful look you fly,
Thick'tt thou that I n;i (kill possess,
Ard watt both courage and address?
Know, that whenever I think tit
To tune thee with a palling bit,
Jui where 1 please, with tighten'd rein,
111 ■rjr thee round the dully plain,
Now on the flowery turf you feed,
Or lightly bound along the mead, jo
» wild, so wanton, and untry'd,
You want same youth to mount and ride.
IRTIALASflOll ON THE MARKIAGC Of ST4AT0CJ.1I AND MVkILLA.
V**sst», fair queen of gods above,
Cupui thou mighty power of love.
And Hymen bland, by heaven design'd
The fraitful source of human kind:
To you, a* to the lyre I siug.
Flow* honour from the sounding string;
Propitious to the numbers prove,
0. Yecas, Hymen, god of love.
Tirw, gentle youth, with rapture view
Tk» Viaoming bride, ordain'd for you: 10
a\ifc qaitk, and feast on all her charms,
Lett, akc a bird, she fly your arms.
O kiffj youth! by Venus blest,
Met happier on Myrilla'i breast:
'See how the fair-one, sweetly coy,
'AJ1 soft confusion, meets the joy,
'Blooming as health, fresh as May-flowers,
'And bright as radiant noon-tide hours.' Of all the flowers upon the plains,
The rose onmatch'd in beauty reigns; to
Mtnlfa thus in charms eicells,
6k shines the rose among the belles.
0 nay, blest youth, the god of day
W«eh gold, that fugitive unkind,
1 give to murmur with the wind: 10 Love sweetly tunes my melting lyre
To tender notes of fort desire.
But when the vagrant finds I bum
He comen, thy quiet to destroy)
O faithli fa gold! thru dear deceit!
Me from -h. muse thou w •uld'st detain,
ON THE SPRINw.
What bright joy can this exceed*1
Michtt god of flames and darts]
Great controuler of all hearts;
With thee Venus, lovely fair,
Venus with the golden haif,
And the bright-ey'd Dryads play;
Nymphs that on the mountains llrajr:
Come, propitious to my vow,
Leave the the mountain's rugged brow;
Q^i'kdescend into the plain,
Wncre the object of my pain,
Sweet Eurypyle in parts
Anxious hopes to youthful hearts;
Melt to love the yielding fair,
Teach her not to give despair;
ThoU my passion must approve.
Melt the yielding fair to love.
ODE 1 X*!V.
TO TIE SAME.
Idalian god, with golden hair;
0 Cupid, ever young and stir, ■