No hoftile wolf the fold invades ;
Uftica's pendent rocks rebound
My fong; and all the fylvan fhades,
By Echo taught, return the found,
The gods my verse propitious hear,
My head from every danger fhield:
For you, o'erflows the bounteous year,
And Plenty's horn hath heap'd my field.
Refponfive to the Teian ftring,
Within the fun-defended vale,
Here, foftly warbling you shall fing
Each tender, tuneful, am'rous tale.
No rival, here, fhall burft the bands
That wreathe my charmer's beauteous hair,
Nor feize her weakly struggling hands;
But Love and Horace guard the fair.
Book II. Ode VI. Imitated.
BEVIL, that with your friend would roam,
Far from your England's happier home,
Should e'er the Fates that friend detain
gayer France, or graver Spain;
Know, all my wish is to retreat,
When age fhall quench my youthful heat,
In Kentish fhades sweet peace to find,
And leave the fons of care behind.
But should this pleafing hope be vain,
May I fair Windfor's feat attain,
Where Leddon's gentle waters glide,
And flocks adorn its flowery fide.
Sweet groves, I love your filent fhades,
Your ruffet lawns, and op'ning glades.
With fam'd Italia's plains may vie
Your fertile fields, and healthful sky.
Here, let our eve of life be spent ;
Here, friend fhall live with friend content:
Here, in cold earth my limbs be laid;
And here thy generous tear be paid.
Book II. Ode XII. Translated.
HE wars of Numantia and Hannibal dire,
On land, or on ocean the fighting,
Mæcenas, ne'er fuited my peaceable lyre,
In fubjects much fofter delighting.
You love not of centaurs embattled to hear,
Nor of giants, a tale of fuch wonder,
Who shook all the fkies, made Jupiter fear,
'Till drove by Alcides and thunder.
In profe, my good patron, more nobly you write,
As your topic than these is much better,
How Cæfar with glory can govern and fight,
And lead haughty kings in his fetter.
Alone my gay Mufe of Licinia would fing,
The conftant, good-natur'd, and pretty,
So graceful to dance with the maids in a ring,
So fparkling, fo merry, and witty.
While you play with her hair that is carelessly curl'd,
While this way, now that way fhe twitches,
your teazing fo kindly complaining, no world Could bribe for one lock with its riches.
Thus bleft with the nymph, how transporting the joy!
Who whimsical, wanton, amuses; Who pleasingly forward, or prettily coy, Oft fnatches the kifs fhe refuses.
To a LADY making a Pin-Basket.
HILE objects of a parent's care,
With joy your fond attention share,
Madam, accept th' auspicious strain ;
Nor rise your beauteous work in vain.
Oft be second race furvey'd,
And oft a new pin-basket made.
When marriage was in all its glory,
So poets, madam, tell the story,
Ere Plutus damp'd love's purer flame,
Or Smithfield bargains had a name,
In heav'n a blooming youth and bride
At Hymen's altars were ally'd;
When Cupid had his Pfyché won,
And, all her deftin'd labours done,
The cruel Fates their rage relented,
And mamma Venus had confented.
At Jove's command, and Hermes' call,
The train appear'd to fill the hall,
And gods, and goddeffes were dreft,
To do them honour, in their best.
The little rogues now pafs'd the row,
And look'd, and mov'd I don't know how,
And, ambling hand in hand, appear
Before the mighty thunderer.
Low at his throne they bent the knee;
He fmil'd the blushing pair to fee,
Lay'd his tremendous bolt afide,
And ftrok'd their cheeks, and kifs'd the bride.
Says Juno, fince our Jove's so kind,
My dears, fome present I muft find.
In greatest pleasures, greatest dangers,
We and the fex were never ftrangers;
With bounteous hand my gifts I fpread,
Prefiding o'er the marriage-bed.
Soon, for the months are on the wing,
To you a daughter fair I bring,
And know, from this your nuptial morn
Shall Pleasure, fmiling babe, be born.
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