Слике страница
PDF
ePub

Fires that scorch, yet dare not shine :
Pureft love's unwafting treasure,
Conftant faith, fair hope, long leisure,
Days of eafe, and nights of pleasure ;
Sacred Hymen! these are thine 2.

NOTES.

40

a Thefe two Chorus's are enough to fhew us his great talents for this fpecies of Poetry, and to make us lament he did not prosecute his purpose in executing fome plans he had chalked out; but the Character of the Managers of Playhouses at that time, was what (he faid) foon determined him to lay afide all thoughts of that nature.

[blocks in formation]

ODE on SOLITUDE.

APPY the man, whofe wifh and care

HAP

Ha few acres

A few paternal acres bound,

Content to breathe his native air,

In his own ground,

Whofe herds with milk, whofe fields with bread,
Whose flocks fupply him with attire,
Whose trees in fummer yield him shade,
In winter fire.

Bleft, who can unconcern'dly find
Hours, days, and flide foft away,

years

In health of body, peace of mind,

Quiet by day,

Sound fleep by night; study and ease,
Together mixt; fweet recreation :
And innocence, which most does please
With meditation,

Thus let me live, unfeen, unknown,
Thus unlamented let me die,

Steal from the world, and not a stone

Tell where I lie,

This was a very early production of our Author, written

at about twelve years old. P.

A N

ESSAY

ΟΝ

CRITICIS M.

Written in the Year MDCCIX.

L 2

1

« ПретходнаНастави »