We'll therefore relish with content,
Whate'er kind Providence has sent,
Nor aim beyond our power;
For, if our stock be very small,
'Tis prudence to enjoy it all,
Nor lose the present hour.
To be resign'd when ills betide,
Patient when favours are denied,
And pleased with favours given;
Dear Chloe, this is wisdom's part,
This is that incense of the heart,
Whose fragrance smells to heaven.
We'll ask no long-protracted treat,
Since winter-life is seldom sweet;
But, when our feast is o'er,
Grateful from table we'll arise,
The relicks of our store.
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.
While conscience, 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.
This Nobleman was the son of Michael Nugent, Esq. of Carlanston, in Ireland. He distinguished himself both in literature and politicks, to the former of which he dedicated the early part of his life, which was passed among men, eminent for rank and talents. He was brought up a Catholick, but the vigour of his mind was not to be restrained by the creed of the church of Rome. The works of protestant divines, and protestant philosophers, connected him with Frederick Prince of Wales; after whose death he made his peace with the court, and was appointed in 1754 a Commissioner of the Treasury, and continued in a walk of sun-shine till age and infirmities growing on him, induced him to retire from business for a few years preceding his death, which happened in the year 1788.
EARIED with indolent repose,
A life unmix'd with joys or woes;
Where all the lazy moments crept,
And every passion sluggish slept;
I wish'd for Love's inspiring pains,
To rouze the loiterer in my veins.
The officious power my call attends,
He who uncall'd his succour lends,
And with a smile of wanton spite,
He Camilla to my sight.
gave
Her eyes their willing captive seize,
Her look, her air, her manners please;
New beauties please, unseen before,
Or seen, in her they please me more ;
And soon, too soon, alas! I find
The virtues of a nobler kind,
Now cheerful springs the morning ray, Now cheerful sinks the closing day; For every morn with her I walk'd, And every eve with her I talk'd;
With her I liked the vernal bloom,
With her I liked the crowded room;
From her at night I went with pain,
And long'd for morn to meet again.
How quick the smiling moments pass,
Through varying Fancy's mimick glass!
While the gay scene is painted o'er,
Where all was one wide blank before ;
And sweetly soothed the inchanting dream,
'Till Love inspired a bolder scheme.
Camilla, stung with grief and shame,
Now marks, and shuns the guilty flame;
Fierce anger lighten'd in her face,
Then cold reserve assumed its place:
And soon, the wretch's hardest fate,
Contempt, succeeds declining hate.
No more my presence now she flies,
She sees me with unheeding eyes ;
Sees me with various passions burn,
Enraged depart,-submiss return;
Return with flattering hopes to find
Soft pity move her gentle mind.
But ah! her looks were still the same,
Unmark'd I went, unmark'd I came ;
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