By all the honey'd store

On Hybla's thymy shore,

By all her blooms and mingled murmurs dear;

By her whose love-lorn woe

In evening musings slow

Soothed sweetly sad Electra's poet's ear:

By old Cephisus deep,

Who spread his wavy sweep

In warbled wanderings round thy green retreat;
On whose enamell'd side,

When holy freedom died,

No equal haunt allured thy future feet :

O sister meek of Truth,

To my admiring youth

Thy sober aid and native charms infuse!
The flowers that sweetest breathe,
Though Beauty cull'd the wreath,

Still ask thy hand to range their order'd hues.

While Rome could none esteem
But Virtue's patriot theme,

You loved her hills, and led her laureat band;
But stay'd to sing alone

To one distinguish'd throne ;

And turn'd thy face, and fled her alter'd land.

No more, in hall or bower,
The passions own thy power;

Love, only Love, her forceless numbers mean :

For thou hast left her shrine;

Nor olive more, nor vine,

Shall gain thy feet to bless the servile scene.

To some divine excess,

Though taste, though genius, bless

Faints the cold work till thou inspire the whole;

What each, what all supply

May court, may charm our eye;

Thou, only thou, canst raise the meeting soul!

Of these let others ask

To aid some mighty task;

I only seek to find thy temperate vale;

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Where oft my reed might sound
To maids and shepherds round,

And all thy sons, O Nature! learn my tale.

3.

SOLITUDE

Happy the man, whose wish and care

A few paternal acres bound,

Content to breathe his native air

In his own ground.

W. Collins

CLIV.

Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, 5
Whose flocks supply him with attire ;

Whose trees in summer yield him shade,
In winter fire.

Blest, who can unconcern'dly find
Hours, days, and years, slide soft away
In health of body, peace of mind,
Quiet by day,

Sound sleep by night; study and ease
Together mixt, sweet recreation,

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ON A FAVOURITE CAT, DROWNED IN A TUB OF

She stretch'd, in vain, to reach the prize-
What female heart can gold despise?
What Cat's averse to fish?

Presumptuous maid! with looks intent
Again she stretch'd, again she bent,
Nor knew the gulf between-
Malignant Fate sat by and smiled-
The slippery verge her feet beguiled ;
She tumbled headlong in!

Eight times emerging from the flood
She mew'd to every watery God
Some speedy aid to send :

No Dolphin came, no Nereid stirr'd,
Nor cruel Tom nor Susan heard-
A favourite has no friend!

From hence, ye Beauties! undeceived
Know one false step is ne'er retrieved,
And be with caution bold :

Not all that tempts your wandering eyes
And heedless hearts, is lawful prize,

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Nor all that glisters, gold!

T. Gray

6.

CLVII.

TO CHARLOTTE PULTENEY

Timely blossom, Infant fair,
Fondling of a happy pair,
Every morn and every night
Their solicitous delight,
Sleeping, waking, still at ease,
Pleasing, without skill to please;
Little gossip, blithe and hale,

Tattling many a broken tale,
Singing many a tuneless song,
Lavish of a heedless tongue;
Simple maiden, void of art,
Babbling out the very heart,
Yet abandon'd to thy will,
Yet imagining no ill,
Yet too innocent to blush;
Like the linnet in the bush

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When Britain first at Heaven's command

Arose from out the azure main,

This was the charter of her land,

And guardian angels sung the strain :

Rule, Britannia! Britannia rules the waves !
Britons never shall be slaves.

The nations not so blest as thee

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Must in their turn to tyrants fall,

Whilst thou shalt flourish great and free
The dread and envy of them all.

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Still more majestic shalt thou rise,

More dreadful from each foreign stroke;
As the loud blast that tears the skies
Serves but to root thy native oak.

Thee haughty tyrants ne'er shall tame ;
All their attempts to bend thee down

Will but arouse thy generous flame,
And work their woe and thy renown.

To thee belongs the rural reign;

Thy cities shall with commerce shine;
All thine shall be the subject main,
And every shore it circles thine !