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ADDRESSED TO A YOUNG LADY.
SWEET stream, that winds through yonder glade,
Apt emblem of a virtuous maid—
Silent and chaste she steals along,
Far from the world's gay busy throng;
With gentle yet prevailing force,
Intent upon her destin'd course;
Graceful and useful all she does,
THE POET'S NEW-YEAR'S-GIFT.
TO MRS. (NOW LADY) THROCKMORTON.
MARIA! I have ev'ry good
For thee wish'd many a time,
To wish thee fairer is no need,
What favour then not yet possess'd
In wedded love already blest,
To thy whole heart's desire?
None here is happy but in part:
There dwells some wish in ev'ry heart,
That wish on some fair future day,
ODE TO APOLLO.
ON AN INKGLASS ALMOST DRIED IN THE SUN.
PATRON of all those luckless brains,
That, to the wrong side leaning,
Ah why, since oceans, rivers, streams,
Pay tribute to thy glorious beams,
Why, stooping from the noon of day,
Too covetous of drink,
Apollo, hast thou stol'n away
A poet's drop of ink?
Upborne into the viewless air
It floats a vapour now,
Impell'd through regions dense and rare, By all the winds that blow.
Ordain'd perhaps ere summer flies,
To form an Iris in the skies,
Though black and foul before.
Illustrious drop! and happy then
Phoebus, if such be thy design,
To place it in thy bow,
Give wit, that what is left
With equal grace below.
PAIRING TIME ANTICIPATED.
I SHALL not ask Jean Jaques Rousseau*,
'Tis clear, that they were always able
And e'en the child who knows no better,
A story of a cock and bull,
Must have a most uncommon skull.
It chanc'd then on a winter's day,
But warm, and bright, and calm as May,
To forestal sweet St. Valentine,
In many an orchard, copse,
Assembled on affairs of love,
* It was one of the whimsical speculations of this philosopher, that all fables, which ascribe reason and speech to animals, should be withheld from children, as being only vehicles of deception. But what child was ever deceived by them, or can be, against the evidence of his senses?