PHILE MON. AN ELEGY. WHERE shade yon yews the churchyard's lonely bourn, With faultering step, absorb'd in thought profound, PHILEMON Wends in solitude to mourn, While Evening pours her deep'ning glooms around. Loud shrieks the blast, the sleety torrent drives, For this the date that stampt his partner's doom; No sighs he breath'd, for anguish riv'd his breast, Now time has calm'd, not cur'd PHILEMON's woe, For grief like his life-woven never dies; And still each year's collected sorrows flow, As drooping o'er his EMMA's tomb he sighs. 46 THE POET AND THE ROSE. FROM GAY. Go, Rose, my CHLOE's bosom grace! How happy should I prove, Might I supply that envied place With never fading love! There, Phoenix-like, beneath her eye Involv'd in fragrance burn and die! Know, hapless Flow'r, that thou shalt find More fragrant roses there: I see thy with'ring head reclin'd With envy and despair! One common fate we both must prove; You die with envy, I with love, IDEM LATINÈ REDDITUM. I, ROSA, deliciæ florum, properare memento Sic, O sic positum, rari Phonicis ad instar, At, Flos infelix, caveas! formosius ardet, Et Flos et Dominus fato moriuntur eodem, Te flamma invidiæ, Me meus urit amor. WHITSUNTIDE. WRITTEN AT WINCHESTER COLLEGE ON THE IMMEDIATE APPROACH OF THE HOLIDAYS. HENCE, thou fur-clad Winter, fly! Sire of shivering Poverty! Who, as thou creep'st with chilblains lame To the crowded charcoal flame, With chattering teeth and ague cold, Scarce thy shaking sides canst hold While Thou draw'st the deep cough out: Tumult loud and boist'rous play, The dangerous slide, the snow-ball fray. But come, thou genial Son of Spring, WHITSUNTIDE! and with thee bring Cricket, nimble boy and light, In slippers red and drawers white, |