Now too the silvery laugh, that delightfully
Tells where the dear girl hideth impatient, and
The token from her round arm ravish'd,
Or from the finger but ill resisting.

ODE IX.

TO RUBETA.

PIERC'D by the sun, winter's breast is relaxing ;
Zephyrs, lightly blowing,

Waft down the stream the sloops, no longer ice-bound.

Sharp-shod no more, stands the steed unblanketed;
Useless are the sledges;

Glisten soft dews, where sparkled late the hoarfrost.

Now, 'neath the light that favors love and beauty,
Lovers' vows are whisper'd,

And village maids, by shepherd swains encircled,

Twine in the dance their ancles quick-glancing,
While their prudent fathers,

The field late till'd, assort the grain for sowing.

Now the coquette may encircle her forehead fair
With the virid myrtle,

Or early flow'rs, recover'd Nature's bounty.

Nunc et in umbrosis FAUNO decet
Immolare lucis,

Seu poscat, agna, sive malit, hædo.

Pallida mors æquo pulsat pede

Pauperum tabernas,

Regumque turres. O beate Sexti,

Vitæ summa brevis spem nos vetat
Inchoare longam.

Jam te premet nox, fabulæque manes,

Et domus exilis Plutonia.

Quo simul meâris,

Nec regna vini sortiere talis,

Nec tenerum Lycidan mirabere,

Quo calet juventus

Nunc omnis, et mox virgines tepebunt.

LIB. I. 10.

AD MERCURIUM.

MERCURI, facunde nepos ATLANTIS,
Qui feros cultus hominum recentum

(1) At the time this parody was written, a course of lectures was advertised by the N. Y. Historical Society, one of which, by the author of the Dieffendorff Sketches, had this characteristic title (we give it precisely as it was printed): "A counterblast against Tobac

Now

may the belle too stir out in cities,

Fearless of consumption,

In chariot whirl'd, or, would she rather, walking.

Levelling Death wears by turns, impartial,

And

Royalty's furr'd mantle

rags of lazars. O divine RUBEta,

To thee seasons revolving are Mentors,
Bidding thee write faster.

Already now Hell's horny-crested devils

Ramp to replace thy own grim servitors.

When they once shall butt thee, Thou wilt not care to lecture on Tobacco, (1)

Neither will thy fancy paint fair Dieffendorffs
Stirring up young DUTCHMEN, —

Which, ev'n to read, makes

-'s mouth to water.

ODE X.

TO WORDSWORTH.

WORDSWORTH, somniferous son of the Muses,
Who the rude tastes of the new bards of BRITAIN

Co NOT in the manner of King James's." I suppose that some. body, concerned for the reputation of the Society, dissuaded the erudite wag from his intention, or that the Society itself, coming to its senses, obliged him to drop it; for the counterblast, though advertised for weeks, was never sounded.

Voce formasti catus, et decora
More palæstræ !

Te canam, magni Jovis et deorum Nuntium, curvæque lyræ parentem, Callidum quicquid placuit jocoso Condere furto !

Te, boves olim nisi reddidisses
Per dolum amotas, puerum minaci
Voce dum terret, viduus pharetra
Risit APOLLO.

Quin et ATRIDAS, duce te, superbos, ILIO dives PRIAMUS relicto, Thessalosque ignes et iniqua TROJÆ Castra fefellit.

Tu pias lætis animas reponis

Sedibus, virgaque levem coërces

Aurea turbam, superis deorum
Gratus, et imis.

Leadest to babies, idiots, and graceful
Odes on a jackass!

Thee will I sing, meek advocate of dulness,
Vain of inaneness, parent of the jewsharp,
Ev'r of all, who in wit and song excel thee,
Subtle maligner !

Thee, while a lad and perpetrating ballads,
Pitying, said, 'T is the biggest fool created!
But, when of late Jove show'd him thy Excursion,
Loud laugh'd APOLLO.

Under thy guidance, common sense abandon'd,
Hundreds of bastard sonnetteers and songsters
Beggar the booktrade, and, in long succession,
Task the reviewers.

Thou in green meadows, by the marge of streamlets,
Placest the souls of little lads and lasses,
And with thy kittens lullest infants teething,
Grateful to nurses.