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Turn demum exactis non infeliciter annis, Sortiri taciturn lapidem, aut- subs cespite condi!

On a Goldfinch starved to Death in bis Cage,

. -. t .... » I.

TIME was when I was free as air," .

The thistles downy feed my fare,

My drink the morning dewj
I perch'd at will on ev'ry spray,
My form genteel, my plumage gay,

My strains for ever new.


But gawdy plumage, sprightly strain,
And form genteel were all in vain

And of a transient date, -
For caught and caged and starved to death,
In dying sighs my little breath

Soon pass'd the wiry grate.


Thanks, gentle swain, for all my V;
And thanks for this effectual close

And cure o' ev'ry ill!
More cruelty could none express,
And I, if you had shewn me less

Had been your pris'ner still.

the PINE A P P L E and tj?e h 2 >

THE pine apples in triple row,
Were basking hot and all in blow,
A bee of most discerning taste
Perceiv'd the fragrance as he pass'd,
On eager wing the spoiler came,
And search'd for crannies in the frame,
Urg'd his attempt on ev'ry fide,
To ev'ry pane his trunk applied,


But still in vain, the frame was tight
And only pervious to the light.
Thus having wasted half the day,...
He trimmed his flight another way.

Methinks, I said, in thee I find
The fin and madness of mankind j
To joys forbidden man aspires,
Consumes his foul with vain desires j
Folly the spring of his pursuit,
And disappointment all the fruit.
While Cynthio ogles as she passes
The nymph between two chariot glasses,
She is the pine apple, and he
The silly unsuccessful bee.
The maid who views with pensive air
The show-glass fraught with glitt'ring ware,
Sees watches, bracelets, rings, and lockets,
But sighs at thought of empty pockets,
Like thine her appetite is keen,
But ah the cruel glass betweeh!


Our dear delights are often such,
Expos'd to view but not to touchj
The sight our foolish heart inflames,
We long for pine apples in frames,
"With hopeless vfjfli dne looks and lingers,
One breaks the;glass and cuts his fingers,
But they whom truth and wisdom lead,
Can gather honey from a weed.

HORACE. [book jbt ad. ODE the 10th


RECEIVE, dear friend, the truths I teach,
So shalt thou live beyond the reach .

Of adverse fortunes pow'r j
Not always tempt the distant deep,
Nor always timorously creep ,'•

Along the treach'rous shofe.


He that holds fast the golden mean,. >] . T And lives, contentedly bejtwe.en

The little and the great, Feels not the wants that pinch the poor, .'r Nor plagues that haunt t£e's ^toor,

Imbitt'ring all his state. . v .• ,

3The tallest pines feel most the pow'r '. . ,.

Of wintry blasts, the loftiest tow'r ... .. .

.' . . \-'

Comes heaviest to the ground, The bolts that spare the mountains side, ...,^ His cloud.capt eminence divide ,

And spread the juin round. . ,• .

4The well inform'd philosopher .Rejoices with an wholesome fear,

And hopes in. spite of pain"; If winter bellow from the north, Soon the sweet spring comes dancing forth, And nature laughs again.

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