The Sailor views in ftorms his veffel toft,
And bufily explores fome friendly coaft;
Or in vain ftruggles impotent to fave
Sinks with his found'ring fhip beneath th'o'erwhelming wave.
Th' impatient Nymph her abfent lover woos,
Pours out her foul in tender billet-doux ;
The fly Adultrefs Fondlewife betrays,
To her gallant the hinting bribe conveys.
Sure here at least the wretched find relief,
Abfence from thought, and interval from grief.
Vain hope! still here familiar horrors reign,
In troubled thought the wounded bleed again,
And felf-tormented feel th' extremities of pain.
The LADY and CATERPILLAR.
Imitated from the FRENCH.
LADY fair, to country feat confin'd,
Quadrille, ridottos, coxcombs left behind,
To lonely fhade of neighb'ring grove repairs,
To mufe on conquests past, and study future airs.
But ftill the CATERPILLAR'S buzzing note
Baffles the fcheme, and interrupts the thought:
Noify and rude as beau while on he prefs'd,
The Dame the faucy infect thus address'd.
Vile wretch, whofe odious notes and looks difplease, Who of their verdant honours ftrip'ft the trees, Fly, e'er my juft refentment on thee fall, Methinks e'en now I feel thy naufeous' crawl.
Vain are your threats and overweening pride, The CATERPILLAR fcornfully reply'd.
That gloomy form, which now offends your eye,
Shall please, when chang'd to gaudy Butterfly;
With glitt'ring robes adorn'd of various hue,
In native luftre then fhall rival you,
Thus you a CATERPILLAR rife from bed, Till borrow'd charms the fallow skin o'erfpread, And nature's flaws are clos'd with white and red.
At fpring this grove its verdure might renew;
Ere that perhaps 'twill fall by cards and you.
No country clown fo ignorant but fees,
While I the leaves, that you deftroy the trees.
RETURN of the SPRING. HORACE Book I. Ode 4. tranflated.
Solvitur acris hyems gratâ vice Veris & Favoni, ch
HE rude, inclement, binding blaft
Of all-benumbing Winter paft,
In sweet viciffitude the Spring
Does tepid airs and odours bring;
Before him rofe-lip'd Zephyrs blow,
And round the ranfom'd waters flow.
Now with glad fhouts they launch again
Their new-rigg'd fhips, and plow the main
No more the ox his crib delights,
Nor crackling blaze the clown invites;
Nor barren fields, like aged Time,
Are veil'd with fnow or hoary rime.
Now Cytherea leads her train, To wanton on the primrofe plain:
The lovely Graces aid the dance,
And in the sprightly ring advance :
Pleas'd with the fight, fair Cynthia smiles
Serene, and envious night beguiles:
While they diffuse ambrofial sweet,
And skim the meadows with bleft feet;
'Midft flaming forges Vulcan glows,
And Cyclops peal their clatt'ring blows.
Now let thy moist and flowing hair
With fragrant oils enrich the air;
Let op'ning flow'rs their fweets combine,
And round thy temples gayly fhine.
Within the deep and folemn fhade
Of facred groves thy vows be paid;
And fportive lamb or wanton kid
On Pan's myfterious altars bleed,
O happy SESTIUS! fince a span Confines the narrow age of man, And fince the fatal dubious die, That feems to fleep, does rapid fly, No more let fraudful hope devour, But wifely feize, the paffing hour.
Pale Death his equal vifit pays
Where shepherd pipes, or monarch sways ;
Already fhades of gloomy night
Hang on thy rear, and urge thy flight;
Grim Erebus is near at hand,
And Lethe's filent fable ftrand;
The everlasting drear inane,
The realm of ghofts, and Pluto's reign,
There fhalt thou flit thro' dusky air
A roving, restless wanderer;
To feftive joys ah then adieu!
And love's delights must vanish too!
LL-pow'rful FANCY, dear delufive Maid,
Daughter of Hope, Imagination's fhade,
Gift of indulgent heav'n, defign'd below
With pictur'd joys to balance real woe :-
Wherever thou haft fpread thy airy wings,
Lodg'd in the breast of statesmen or of kings;
Whether thy vifionary pow'r inspires
Some poet's brain with heav'n-defcended fires,
And bids him wanton in the golden dream
Of riches, honours, and immortal fame;
Whether thou mak'ft th' inraptur'd lover trace
A little heav'n, that fmiles in Hebe's face;
Dream of a grace divine, an angel's air,
And in the goddess lose the mortal fair :-
Since, in the bitter draught of human woe
Whate'er of fweet is found, to thee we owe;
Since what fubftantial happiness we call,
Is but thyfelf, kind Nymph, thy bounty all;
Vain all and empty, but what thou hast giv'n,
E'en Virtue's felf, unless fhe leans on heav'n
Hafte hither, fweet deceiver, gentle gueft,
Haite and erect thy empire in my breast:
Bid pleasures here in airy forms arife,
Ideal raptures, self-created joys:
Here revel thou entire, and ever reign,.
Quick let me catch the vifionary scene:
Paint the dear object of my conftant flame,
Her face unchang'd, her beauty still the fame,
(That only thing thou know'ft not to improve)
Fair Chloe,only foften'd into love:
There let me view the marks of fond defire,
A pure, unfpotted, but an equal fire;
A love that by its coyness more endears,
Fearful, but ftill the more betray'd by fears :
Here let the heav'nly image ever dwell;
Unpleafing truth, rude meffenger, farewell!
And fince all other methods fruitless prove,
FANCY, be thou my advocate in love.
The PLEASURE of being OUT OF DEBT.
HORACE. Ode XXII. Book 1. imitated.
Integer vita fcelerifque purus, &c.
HE man, who not a farthing owes,
Looks down with fcornful eye on those,
Who rife by fraud and cunning;
Tho' in the Pig-market he stand
With afpect grave and clear-ftarch'd band,
He fears no tradefman's dunning.
He paffes by each fhop in town,
Nor hides his face beneath his gown,
No dread his heart invading ;
He quaffs the nectar of the Tuns,
Or on a fpur-gall'd hackney runs
To London, masquerading.
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