II.

From the gay world we'll oft retire
To our own family and fire,

Where love our hours employs
No noify neighbour enters here,
No intermeddling stranger near,
To spoil our heart-felt joys.
III.

If solid happiness we prize,
Within our breaft this jewel lies;

And they are fools who roam;

The world has nothing to bestow,

From our own felves our joys must flow,

And that dear hut, our home.

IV.

Of reft was Noah's dove bereft,

When with impatient wing fhe left

That fafe retreat, the ark;

Giving her vain excurfion o'er,

The disappointed bird once more

Explor❜d the facred bark.

V.

Though fools fpurn Hymen's gentle pow'rs,

We, who improve his golden hours,

By fweet experience know,

That

That marriage, rightly understood,
Gives to the tender and the good
A paradise below.

VI.

Our babes fhall richest comforts bring,
If tutor'd right, they'll prove a spring,
Whence pleasures ever rife:

We'll form their minds with studious care,
To all that's manly, good, and fair,

And train them for the skies.

VII.

While they our wifest hours engage,

They'll joy our youth, fupport our age,
And crown our hoary hairs:

They'll grow in virtue every day,
And thus our fondest loves repay,

And recompenfe our cares.
VIII.

No borrow'd joys! they're all our own,
While to the world we live unknown,

Or by the world forgot:

Monarchs! we envy not your state,
We look with pity on the great,

And bless our humbler lot.

IX. Our

IX.

Our portion is not large indeed,

But then, how little do we need!

For Nature's calls are few!

In this the art of living lies,

To want no more than may fuffice,
And make that little do.

X.

We'll therefore relish with content

Whate'er kind Providence has fent,

Nor aim beyond our pow'r;

For if our stock be very small,
'Tis prudence to enjoy it all,

Nor lose the present hour.
XI.

To be refign'd, when ills betide,
Patient, when favours are deny'd,

And pleas'd with favours giv'n;
Dear Chloe, this is wisdom's part,
This is that incenfe of the heart,

Whose fragrance smells to heav'n.
XII.

We'll ask no long protracted treat,
(Since winter life is feldom fweet ;)

But when our feaft is o'er,

Grateful

Grateful from table we'll arife,

Nor grudge our fons with envious eyes,

The relics of our store.

XIII.

Thus hand in hand through life we'll go,
Its checker'd paths of joy and woe

With cautious steps we'll tread;
Quit its vain scenes without a tear,
Without a trouble or a fear,

And mingle with the dead.
XIV.

While Confcience, like a faithful friend,
Shall through the gloomy vale attend,
And cheer our dying breath;

Shall, when all other comforts cease,

Like a kind angel whisper peace,
And smooth the bed of death.

XXXXXXXXX

TO-MORROW.

By the Same.

T

Pereunt et Imputantur.

O-morrow, didft thou say!

Methought I heard Horatio fay, To-morrow.

Go

Go to I will not hear of it-To-morrow!
'Tis a fharper, who stakes his penury

Against thy plenty who takes thy ready cash,
And pays thee nought but wishes, hopes, and promises,
The currency of ideots. - Injurious bankrupt,
That gulls the eafy creditor!-To-morrow!
It is a period no where to be found

In all the hoary registers of Time,
Unless perchance in the fool's calendar.

Wisdom disclaims the word, nor holds society
With those who own it. No, my Horatio,
'Tis Fancy's child, and Folly is its father;
Wrought of fuch stuff as dreams are; and baseless
As the fantastic visions of the evening.

But foft, my friend-arreft the present moments; For be affur'd, they all are arrant tell-tales;

And though their flight be filent, and their path
Tracklefs, as the wing'd couriers of the air,
They post to heav'n, and there record thy folly.
Because, though station'd on th' important watch,
Thou, like a sleeping, faithless centinel,

Didft let them pass unnotic'd, unimprov'd.

And know, for that thou slumber'dft on the guard,
Thou shalt be made to anfwer at the bar

For