Yes, truly-one must scream and bawl,

I tell you you can't hear at all.

Then with a voice exceeding low,

No matter if you hear or no.

Alas! and is domestic strife,

That foreft ill of human life,
A plague fo little to be fear'd,
As to be wantonly incurr'd;
To gratify a fretful paffion,
On ev'ry trivial provocation?
The kindest and the happiest pair,
Will find occafion to forbear,

And fomething ev'ry day they live
To pity, and perhaps, forgive.
But if infirmities that fall

In common to the lot of all,

A blemish, or a fenfe impair'd,
Are crimes fo little to be fpar'd,
Then farewel all that muft create
The comfort of the wedded flate,

Inftead of harmony, 'tis jar

And tumult, and inteftine war.

The love that cheers life's latest stage,

Proof against sickness and old age,

Preferv'd by virtue from declenfion,

Becomes not weary of attention,

But lives, when that exterior grace
Which first infpir'd the flame, decays.
'Tis gentle, delicate and kind,
To faults compaffionate or blind,
And will with fympathy endure
Thofe evils it would gladly cure.
But angry, coarfe, and harsh expreffion
Shows love to be a mere profeffion,

Proves that the heart is none of his,

Or foon expels him if it is.

To

THE fwallows in their torpid ftate,

Compose their useless wing,

And bees in hives as idly wait

The call of early fpring.

2.

The keenest froft that binds the ftream,

The wildest wind that blows,

Are neither felt nor fear'd by them,

Secure of their repofe."

3.

But man all feeling and awake.

The gloomy scene furveys,

With present ills his heart must ach,

And pant for brighter days.

Old

4.

Old winter halting o'er the mead,

Bids me and Mary mourn,

But lovely fpring peeps o'er his head,

And whispers your return.

5.

Then April with her fifter May,
Shall chafe him from the bow'rs,
And weave fresh garlands ev'ry day,

To crown the smiling hours.

6.

And if a tear that speaks regret
Of happier times appear,

A glimpse of joy that we have met

Shall fhine, and dry the tear.

TRANS

TRANSLATION or PRIOR's

CHLOE AND EUPHELIA.

I.

MERCATOR, vigiles oculos ut fallere poffit, Nomine fub ficto trans mare mittit opes; Lené fonat liquidumque meis Euphelia chordis, Sed folam exoptant te, mea vota, Chlöe.

2.

Ad fpeculum ornabat nitidos Euphelia crines, Cum dixit mea lux, heus, cane, fume lyram. Namque lyram juxtà pofitam cum carmine vidit, Suave quidem carmen dulcifonamque lyram,

3.

Fila lyræ vocemque paro, fufpiria furgunt,
Et mifcent numeris murmura mæsta meis,

Dumque tuæ memoro laudes, Euphelia, formæ,

Tota anima intereá pendet ab ore Chlöess