But fhe would ne'er incline: "Prove to your equals true, fhe cry'd, As I will prove to mine.

'Tis STREPHON, on the mountain's brow,
Has won my right good will;

To him I gave my plighted vow,
With him I'll climb the hill."

Struck with her charms and gentle truth;
I clasp'd the constant fair;

To her alone I gave my youth,
And vow my future care.

And when this vow fhall faithless prove,
Or I those charms forego;

The ftream that faw our tender love,
That ftream fhall ceafe to flow."

QDE

ODE to INDOLENCE, 1750.

A

H! why for ever on the wing

Perfifts my weary'd foul to roam ?
Why, ever cheated, ftrives to bring
Or pleasure or contentment home?

Thus the poor bird, that draws his name
From paradife's honour'd groves,
Careless fatigues his little frame;
Nor finds the refting place he loves.

Lo! on the rural moffy bed

My limbs with careless ease reclin'd;
Ah, gentle floth! indulgent spread
The fame foft bandage o'er my mind.

For why should lingering thought invade,
Yet every worldly profpect cloy?
Lend me, foft floth, thy friendly aid,
And give me peace, debarr'd of joy.

Lov'st thou yon calm and filent flood,

That never ebbs, that never flows;

Protected by the circling wood

From each tempeftuous wind that blows?

An

Where oft thy votary shall be found; What time pale autumn lulls the skies, And fickening verdure fades around.

Ye bufy race, ye factious train,

That haunt ambition's guilty fhrine; No more perplex the world in vain, But offer here your vows with mine.'

And thou, puiffant queen! be kind :
If e'er I shar'd thy balmy pow'r;
If e'er I sway'd my active mind,

To weave for thee the rural bow'r;

Diffolve in sleep each anxious care;
Each unavailing figh remove;

And only let me wake to share
The sweets of friendship and of love.

VOL. I.

K

ODE

ODE to HEALTH, 1730.

HEALTH, capricious maid!

Why doft thou fhun my peaceful bow'r, Where I had hope to fhare thy pow'r,

And bless thy lafting aid?

Since thou, alas! art flown,

It 'vails not whether mufe or grace,
With tempting fmile, frequent the place:
I figh for thee alone.

Age not forbids thy ftay;

Thou yet might'ft act the friendly part;

Thou yet might'ft raife this languid heart;
Why speed fo fwift away?

Thou fcorn'ft the city-air;

I breathe fresh gales o'er furrow'd ground,
Yet haft not thou my wifhes crown'd,
O falfe! O partial fair!

I plunge into the wave;
And tho' with pureft hands I raise
A rural altar to thy praise,

Thou wilt not deign to fave.

Amid

Where mineral fountains vainly bear
Thy boasted name, and titles fair,
Why scorns thy foot to rove?

Thou hear'ft the fportfman's claim;
Enabling him, with idle noife,

To drown the mufe's melting voice,
And fright the timorous game.

Is thought thy foe? adieu

Ye midnight lamps! ye curious tomes!
Mine eye o'er hills and valley roams,

And deals no more with you.

Is it the clime you flee ?
Yet 'midst his unremitting fnows,
The poor LAPONIAN's bofom glows;
And fhares bright rays from thee.

There was, there was a time,
When tho' I fcorn'd thy guardian care,
Nor made a vow, nor faid a pray'r,

I did not rue the crime.

Who then more bleft than I?

When the glad fchool-boy's tafk was done,
And forth, with jocund fprite, I run

To freedom, and to joy?