The sight our foolish heart inflames, HORACE, BOOK II. ODE X. I. RECEIVE, dear friend, the truths I teach, So shalt thou live beyond the reach Of adverse Fortune's pow'r; Not always tempt the distant deep, II. He that holds fast the golden mean, And lives contentedly between The little and the great, Feels not the wants that pinch the poor, Nor plagues, that haunt the rich man's door, Imbitt'ring all his state. III. The tallest pine feels most the pow'r The bolts that spare the mountain's side, And spread the ruin round. VOL. I. 19. IV. The well-inform'd philosopher And hopes in spite of pain; Soon the sweet spring comes dancing forth, V. What if thine Heav'n be overcast, The God that strings the silver bow, VI. If hindrances obstruct thy way, And let thy strength be seen; A REFLECTION ON THE FOREGOING ODE AND is this all? Can reason do no more, The Christian has an art unknown to thee. THE LILY AND THE ROSE. 1. THE Nymph must lose her female friend, But where will fierce contention end, II. Within the garden's peaceful scene Aspiring to the rank of queen, The Lily and the Rose. III. The Rose soon redden'd into rage, To prove her right to reign. IV. The Lily's height bespoke command, She seem'd design'd for Flora's hand, V. This civil bick'ring and debate The goddess chanc'd to hear, And flew to save, ere yet too late, Yours is, she said, the nobler hue, VII. Thus, sooth'd and reconcil'd, each seeks The fairest British fair, The seat of empire is her cheeks, They reign united there. IDEM LATINE REDDITUM. I. HEU inimicitias quoties parit æmula forma, Sed fines ultra solitos discordia tendit, Hortus ubi dulces præbet tacitosque recussus, III. Ira Rosam et meritis quæsita superbia tangunt, Multaque ferventi vix cohibenda sinu, Dum sibi fautorum ciet undique nomina vatum, Jusque suum, multo carmine fulta, probat. IV. Altior emicat illa, et celso vertice nutat, V. Nec Dea non sensit civilis murmura rixte, VI. Et tibi forma datur procerior omnibus, inquit; VII. His ubi sedatus furor est, petit utraque nympham, Hanc penes imperium est, nihil optant amplius, hujus Regnant in nitidis, et sine lite, genis. THE POPLAR FIELD THE poplars are fell'd, farewell to the shade, Twelve years have elaps'd since I last took a view The blackbird has fled to another retreat, My fugitive years are all hasting away, Tis a sight to engage me, if any thing can, |