As when fair Iris has awhile display'd

Her watery arch, with gaudy painture gay; While yet we gaze, the glorious colours fade,

And from our wonder gently steal away:

Where shone the beauteous phantom erst so bright, Now lowers the low-hung clouds; all gloomy to the sight.

But Virtue more engaging all the while
Disclos'd new charms; more lovely, more serene;
Beaming sweet influence. A milder smile
Soften'd the terrours of her lofty mien.
'Lead, goddess, I am thine!' (transported cry'd ‹
Alcides:) O propitious pow'r, thy way
Teach me! possess my soul; be thou my guide:
From thee, O never, never let me stray!'
While ardent thus the youth his vows address'd,
With all the goddess fill'd, already glow'd his
breast.

The heav'nly maid, with strength divine endu'd His daring soul; there all her pow'rs combin'd: Firm constancy, undaunted fortitude,

Enduring patience, arm'd his mighty mind.. Unmov'd in toils, in dangers undismay'd, By many a hardy deed and bold emprize, From fiercest monsters, through her pow'rful aid, He freed the Earth: through her he gain'd the

skies.

'Twas Virtue plac'd him in the blest abode; Crown'd, with eternal youth: among the gods, a

god.

Spence.

THE GOLDEN VERSES OF PYTHAGORAS.

FIRST, the Supreme doth highest rev'rence claim; Use with religious awe his sacred name:

Assur'd he views thy ways, let nought controul The word thou once hast bound upon thy soul. Next, to the heroes bear a grateful mind, Whose glorious cares and toils have blest man

Let just respect and decent rites be paid
To the immortal manes of the dead.
Honour thy parents, and thy next of kind;
And virtuous men wherever thou canst find,
In the same bond of love let them be join'd.
Useful and steady let thy life proceed,
Mild ev'ry word, good-natur'd ev'ry deed;
Oh, never with the man thou lov'st contend:
But bear a thousand frailties from thy friend.
Rashly inflam'd, vain spleen, and slight surmise,
To real feuds, and endless discords rise.

O'er lust, o'er anger, keep the strictest rein,
Subdue thy sloth, thy appetite restrain.
With no vile action venture to comply,
Though unbeheld by ev'ry mortal eye.
Above all witnesses thy conscience fear,
And more than all mankind thyself revere.
One way let all thy words and actions tend,
Reason their constant guide, and truth their end.
And ever mindful of thy mortal state,

How quick, how various are the turns of fate; How here, how there, the tides of fortune roll; How soon impending death concludes the whole;

Compose thy mind, and, free from anxious strife, Endure thy portion of the ills of life:

Though still the good man stands secure from

harms,

Nor can misfortune wound, whom virtue arms.
In common converse, thou wilt often find
Some to improve, and some to taint the mind;
Grateful to that a due observance pay;
Beware lest this entice thy thoughts astray;
And bold untruths which thou art forc'd to hear,
Receive discreetly with a patient ear.

Wouldst thou be justly rank'd among the wise,
Think ere thou dost, ere thou resolv'st advise.
Still let thy aims with sage experience square,
And plan thy conduct with sagacious care;
So shalt thou all thy course with pleasure run,
Nor wish an action of thy life undone.

Among the various ends of thy desires,
"Tis no inferior place thy health requires.
Firmly for this from all excess refrain,
Thy cups be mod'rate, and thy diet plain:
Nor yet inelegant thy board supply,
But shun the nauseous pomp of luxury.
Let spleen by cheerful converse be withstood,
And honest labours purify the blood.

Each night, ere needful slumber seals thy eyes,
Home to thy soul let these reflections rise:
How has this day my duty seen express'd?
What have I done, omitted, or transgress'd?
Then grieve the moments thou hast idly spent:
The rest will yield thee comfort and content.

Be these good rules thy study and delight; Practise by day, and ponder them by night;

Thus all thy thoughts to virtue's height shall rise,
And truth shall stand unveil'd before thy eyes.
Of beings the whole system thou shalt see,
Rang'd as they are in beauteous harmony;
Whilst all depend from one superior cause,
And nature works obedient to her laws.
Hence, as thou labour'st with judicious care
To run the course allotted to thy share,
Wisdom refulgent with a heav'nly ray
Shall clear thy prospect, and direct thy way.
Then all around compassionately view
The wretched ends which vain mankind pursue,
Toss'd to and fro by each impetuous gust,
The rage of passion, or the fire of lust;
No certain stay, no safe retreat they know,
But blindly wander through a maze of woe.
Mean while congenial vileness works within,
And custom quite subdues the soul to sin.
Save us from this distress, Almighty Lord,
Our minds illumine, and thy aid afford!

But O! secure from all thy life is led,
Whose feet the happy paths of virtue tread.
Thou stand'st united to the race divine,
And the perfection of the skies is thine.
Imperial reason, free from all controul,
Maintains her just dominion in thy soul:
Till purg'd at length from ev'ry sinful stain,
When friendly death shall break the cumbrous

chain,

Loos'd from the body, thou shalt take thy flight, And range immortal in the fields of light.

Fitzgerald.

LESSONS OF WISDOM.

How to live happiest; how avoid the pains,
The disappointments and disgusts of those
Who would in pleasure all their hours employ;
The precepts here of a divine old man
I could recite. Though old, he still retain'd
His manly sense, and energy of mind.
Virtuous and wise he was, but not severe;
He still remember'd that he once was young;
His easy presence check'd no decent joy.
Him ev'n the dissolute admir'd; for he

A graceful looseness when he pleas'd put on,
And, laughing, could instruct. Much had he read,
Much more had seen; he studied from the life,
And in th' original perus'd mankind.

Vers'd in the woes and vanities of life,
He pitied man and much he pitied those
Whom falsely-smiling Fate has curs'd with means
To dissipate their days in quest of joy.
'Our aim is happiness; 'tis yours, 'tis mine
(He said), 'tis the pursuit of all that live;
Yet few attain it, if 'twas e'er attain'd.
But they the widest wander from the mark,
Who through the flowery paths of sauntering Joy
Seek this coy goddess; that from stage to stage
Invites us still, but shifts as we pursue.

For, not to name the pains that pleasure brings
To counterpoise itself, relentless Fate
Forbids that we through gay voluptuous wilds
Should ever roam; and were the Fates more kind,
Our narrow luxuries would soon grow stale.
Were these exhaustless, Nature would grow sick,