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The charms of the late blowing rofe,

Seem grac'd with a livelier hue, And the winter of forrow best shows The truth of a friend, fuch as you.

MUTUAL

FORBEARANCE.

Neceffary to the Happiness of the Married State.

THE lady thus addrefs'd her spouse-
What a mere dungeon is this house,
By no means large enough, and was it,
Yet this dull room and that dark closet,
Those hangings with their worn-out graces,
Long beards, long nofes, and pale faces,
Are fuch an antiquated scene,

They overwhelm me with the spleen.

-Sir Humphry shooting in the dark,
Makes answer quite befide the mark:
No doubt, my dear, I bade him come,
Engag'd myfelf to be at home,
And shall expect him at the door
Precisely when the clock ftrikes four.

You

You are fo deaf the lady cried,

(And rais'd her voice and frown'd befide)
You are fo deadly deaf, my dear,
What fhall I do to make you hear?
Difmifs poor Harry, he replies,
Some people are more nice than wife,
For one flight trefpass all this stir?
What if he did ride, whip and fpur,
'Twas but a mile-your fav'rite horse
Will never look one hair the worse.
Well, I proteft 'tis past all bearing-
Child! I am rather hard of hearing-
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 domeftic ftrife,
That foreft ill of human life,
A plague fo little to be fear'd,
As to be wantonly occurr'd;
To gratify a fretful passion,
On ev'ry trivial provocation?
The kindest and the happiest pair,
Will find occafion to forbear,
And something ev'ry day they live
To pity, and perhaps, forgive.

But

But if infirmities that fall

In common to the lot of all,
A blemish or a sense impair'd,
Are crimes fo little to be fpar'd,
Then farewell all that must create
The comfort of the wedded state,
Instead of harmony, 'tis jar

And tumult, and intestine 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 firft infpir'd the flame, decays..
'Tis gentle, delicate and kind,
To faults compassionate or blind,
And will with fympathy endure
Those evils it would gladly cure.
But angry, coarse, and harsh expreffion,
Shows love to be a mere profession,
Proves that the heart is none of his,
Or foon expels him if it is.

ΤΟ

TO THE REV. MR. NEWTON.

An Invitation into the Country.

I.

THE fwallows in their torpid state,

Compose their useless wing,

And bees in hives as idly wait

The call of early spring.

II.

The keenest froft that binds the stream,
The wildeft wind that blows,

Are neither felt nor fear'd by them,
Secure of their repose.

III.

But man, all feeling and awake,

The gloomy scene surveys,

With prefent ills his heart must ach,

And pant for brighter days.

IV.

Old winter halting o'er the mead,

Bids me and Mary mourn,

But lovely spring peeps o'er his head,

And whispers your return.

V.

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

IV.

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.

TRANSLATION OF PRIOR's CHLOE

AND EUPHELIA.

I.

MERCATOR, vigiles oculos ut fallere poffit,
Nomine fub ficto trans mare mittit opes;

Lenè fonat liquidumque meis Euphelia chordis,
Sed folam exoptant te, mea vota, Chloe.

II.

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

III. Fila

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