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THE lapse of time and rivers is the same,
And a wide ocean swallows both at last.
Though each resemble each in every part,
A difference strikes at length the musing heart: Streams never flow in vain; where streams abound, How laughs the land with various plenty crown'd! But time, that should enrich the nobler mind, Neglected leaves a weary waste behind.
ADDRESSED TO A YOUNG LADY.
SWEET stream, that winds through yonder glade,
Far from the world's gay busy throng;
THE POET'S NEW-YEAR'S GIFT.
To MRS. (now LADY) THROCKMORTON.
MARIA! I have every good
For thee wish'd many a time,
To wish thee fairer is no need,
In wedded love already bless'd
To thy whole heart's desire?
None here is happy but in part;
There dwells some wish in every 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,
Ah why, since oceans, rivers, streams,
Why, stooping from the noon of day,
Too covetous of drink,
Apollo, hast thou stolen away
Upborne into the viewless air,
It floats a vapour now,
Impell'd through regions dense and rare,
Beyond the happiest lot,
Phoebus, if such be thy design,
To place it in thy bow,
Give wit, that what is left may shine
PAIRING TIME ANTICIPATED.
I SHALL not ask Jean Jacques Rousseau,*
'Tis clear, that they were always able
A story of a cock and bull,
Must have a most uncommon skull.
"To forestall sweet St. Valentine,
In many an orchard, copse, and grove,
And with much twitter and much chatter,
At length a Bulfinch, who could boast
A moment's liberty to speak;
My friends! be cautious how ye treat
The subject upon which we meet;
I fear we shall have winter yet.
A Finch, whose tongue knew no control, With golden wing, and satin poll,
• 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?