While Pomp, and Pride, and Power appear, At best, the glittering plagues of men ; Unsought by those that never roam, Forgetful of their native home.

Let me to summer shades retire,
With Meditation and the Muse!

Or, round the social winter fire,

The glow of temper'd mirth diffuse;
Tho' winds may howl, and waters foam,
I still shall bless my native home!

HESTER CHAPONE,

Born 1727, died 1801,

Is well known from her Letters on the Improvement of the Her maiden name was Mulso.

Mind.

Ode to Solitude.

THOU gentle nurse of pleasing woe,

To thee from crowds, and noise, and show,
With eager haste I fly;

Thrice welcome, friendly Solitude,

O let no busy foot intrude,

Nor listening ear be nigh!

Soft, silent, melancholy maid,
With thee, to yon sequester'd shade,
My pensive steps I bend;
Still at the mild approach of night,
When Cynthia lends her sober light,
Do thou my walk attend!

To thee alone, my conscious heart
Its tender sorrow dares impart,

And ease my lab'ring breast;

To thee I trust the rising sigh,

And bid the tear that swells my eye,

No longer be supprest.

the haunted groves,

The lovely sorceress Fancy roves;

O let me find her here!

For she can time and space controul, And swift transport my fleeting soul

To all it holds most dear.

Ah! no

-ye vain delusions, hence!

No more the hallow'd innocence

Of Solitude pervert!

Shall Fancy cheat the precious hour, Sacred to Wisdom's awful power, And calm Reflection's part?

O Wisdom! from the sea-beat shore,
Where, listening to the solemn roar,
Thy lov'd Eliza* strays,
Vouchsafe to visit my retreat,

And teach my erring, trembling feet,
Thy heaven-protected ways!

Eliza Carter.

O guide me to the humble cell,
Where Resignation 'loves to dwell,
Contentment's bower in view!

Nor pining grief with absence drear,
Nor sick suspense, nor anxious fear,
Shall there my steps pursue.

There, let my soul to Him aspire,
Whom none e'er sought with vain desire
Nor lov'd in sad despair;
There, to his gracious will divine,

My dearest, fondest hope resign,
And all my tenderest care.

Then peace shall heal this wounded breast, That pants to see another blest,

From selfish passion pure;

Peace, which when human wishes rise,
Intense, for aught beneath the skies,

Can never be secure.

GEORGIANA, DUTCHESS OF

DEVONSHIRE,

Born 1757, died 1806,

Was the daughter of John, Earl of Spencer. This beautiful woman, who shone a brilliant star in the fashionable world, cultivated, and liberally patronized, literature and the arts. Gibbon says, "she was made for something better than a dutchess." The following poem has been translated into French by the Abbé De Lille.

The Passage of the Mountain of St. Gothard:

TO MY CHILDREN.

1.

YE plains, where threefold harvests press the ground,

Ye climes, where genial gales incessant swell, Where Art and Nature shed profusely round

Their rival wonders-Italy, farewell!