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Soon as unwelcome night begins its sway, And throws its fable mantle o'er the day; The withering glories of the garden fade, And weeping groves bewail their lonely shade; To melancholy filence men retire, And no sweet note sounds from the feather'd choir: But hardly can the rifing morn display The purple ensigns of approaching day, But the glad gardens deck themselves anew, And groves refresh d shake off their heavy dew: To daily labor man himself devotes, An birds in anthems strain their little throats. So without THEE, I grieve, I pine, I mourn; So triumph, fo revive, at thy return. But thou, unkind, bid'st me delight my eyes With other beauties, other rarities. Sometimes thou bid'ft me mark the flow'ry field, What various scent and shews the meadows yield; Then to the STARS thou dost direct
O glorious face, worthy a power divine,
We in thy works thy fix'd impressions trace,
Nor can we b:ame thy great apostle's zeal,
Oh! when shall I behold thee all serene,
'Tis true, the sacred elements impart Thy virtual presence to my faithful heart;
This, tho' a great, is an imperfect bliss,
E P I GRAM
ON THE EXCELLENCY OF THE MARRIAGE STATE.
MARRIAGE IS HONOR ABLE IN ALL."
AIL, wedded love ! by gracious God design'd
At once the source and glory of mankind! 'Tis this, can toil and grief and pain assuage, Secure our youth, and dignify our age; 'Tis this, fair fame and guiltless pleasure brings, And shakes rich plenty from its brooding wings; Gilds duty's roughest paths with friendship's ray, And strews with roses sweet the narrow way. Not so the harlot-if it lawful be To mention vice, when praising chastity Not so the harlot plights her venal vow, With heart obdurate, and Corinthian brow, She fawns unfriendly, practis'd to beguile, Stings while the weeps, and murders in a smile. Fame, peace, and virtue, she at once destroys, And damns, most surely, whom she most enjoys.
THOUGHTS ON CANT. VIII, XIV,
MAKE HASTE, MY BELOVED, AND BE LIKE THE ROE OR THR
YOUNG HART UPON THE MOUNTAINS OF SPICES.
Too weak to bear thy too refulgent light: [fight, - How does my tongue my love-fick soul betray ? This bids him Ay, whom That would beg to stay, Why should I then his absence thus engage, The grant will make one tedious hour an age ? Yet his too beauteous beams forbid his stay ; Fly then, my Love, or lay those beams away! Hadst thou on me this harsh injunction laid, The killing sound at once had struck me dead : But thy own flame, not mine, would have it so, I should be ages in pronouncing Go! I would not wish what now I do intreat; Then stay, and let me not persuade thee yet! Stay, stay my Life, and turn the deafen'd ear! Sure what I would not speak, thou should'It not hear. Hence let the wind my feign'd petition bear! 'Twas urgent fear, that form’d the halty pray’r. Yet oh! this melting heat forbids thy stay; Fly, fly, my Love, I burn if thou delay.
Oh! let thy haste outstrip the hunted hind;