A MADRIGAL, BY PETER PINDAR. TO CHLOE. CHLOE, prithee, why so coy? Where's the danger of a kiss? Loaded are thy lips with joy; Budding, if they blush with pleasures, NATURE was a fool to make 'em. THE VANITY OF FAME. BY THE REV. H. MOORE. As vapours from the marsh's miry bed Ascend, and, gath'ring on the mountain head, Spread their long train in splendid pomp on high; Now o'er the vales in awful grandeur low'r; Now flashing, thund'ring down the trembling sky, Rive the tough oak, or dash th' aspiring tow'r; Then melting down in rain Drop to their base original again; Thus earth-born Heroes, the proud sons of praise, Awhile on Fortune's airy summit blaze, The world's fair peace confound, And deal dismay and death, and ruin round; Where is each boasted Favourite of Fame, Fill'd the loud echoes of the world around, While shore to shore return'd the lengthen'd sound? With weeping Freedom to the chariot tied, In empty air their mighty deeds exhale, In vain with various arts they strive Bid to the skies th' ambitious tow'r ascend; Of vanquish'd Monarchs tumbled from the throne: Rushing with strong and steady current, bears The pompous piles, with all their fame, away Deep in whose dread abyss the glory lies Of empires, ages, never more to rise! Where's now imperial Rome, Who erst to subject Kings denounc'd their doom, And shook the sceptre o'er a trembling world? From her proud height by force barbarian hurl'd. Now, on some broken capital reclin❜d, The Sage of classic mind Her awful relics views with pitying eye, Or pensive hover o'er the ruins round, Where old Euphrates winds his storied flood, Yet, 'tis Divinity's implanted fire Which bids the soul to glorious heights aspire; Enlarge her wishes, and extend her sight Beyond this little Life's contracted round, And wing her eagle flight To grandeur, fame, and bliss without a bound. Ambition's ardent hopes, and golden dreams, Her tow'ring madness, and her wild extremes, E |