No painted plumage to display: On hafty wings thy youth is flown; Thy fun is fet, thy fpring is gone We frolick, while 'tis May, ODE "T WAS on a lofty vafe's fide, Where China's gayeft art had dy'd The azure flowers, that blow; Demureft of the tabby kind, The penfive Selima reclin❜d, Gazed on the lake below. Her Her conscious tail her joy declar'd; The fair round face, the fnowy beard, The velvet of her paws, Her coat, that with the tortoife vies, Her ears of jet, and emerald eyes, Still had she gaz'd; but 'midst the tide Two angel forms were feen to glide, The Genii of the ftream: Their fcaly armour's Tyrian hue Thro' richest purple to the view Betray'd a golden gleam. The |