her to the cardinal, and refer it

to him.

When they came before that munificent prince, and he was fully informed of the bufinefs; "It is true," faid he, "I mistook in writing fifty crowns, give me the paper, and I will rectify it." Upon which he wrote again, faying to the woman, "So much modesty and virtue deserves a recompence : here I have ordered you five hundred crowns; what you can fpare of it, lay up as a dowry to give with your daughter in




To the Sea.

HAIL! thou inexhaustible.

fource of wonder and contemplation! Hail! thou multitudinous ocean! whofe waves chase. one another down like the ge nerations of men, and after a momentary space, are immerged for ever in oblivion! Thy fluc tuating waters wash the varied fhores of the world, and while they disjoin nations, whom a nearer connection would involve in eternal war, they circulate their arts and their labours, and


the idea of that Divine Power, which originally laid the foun dations fo fure, and whofe omnipotent voice hath fixed the limits where thy proud waves fhall be stayed !



Ode to Mirth.

ARENT of joy! heart-eafing Mirth!

Whether of Venus or Aurora born!

Yet Goddess fure of heavenly birth,

Vifit benign a fon of Grief forlorn :
Thy glittering colours gay,
Around him, Mirth, difplay;"
And o'er his raptur'd fenfe
Diffufe thy living influence:

So fhall each hill in purer green array'd, And flower adorn'd in new-born beauty glow; The grove fhall fmooth the horrors of the


And streams and murmurs fhall forget to flow.

Shine, Goddefs, fhine with unremitted ray, And gild (a fecond fun) with brighter beam our day.

Labour with thee forgets his pain, And aged Poverty can fmile with thee, If thou be nigh, Grief's hate is vain, And weak th' uplifted arm of tyranny. The morning opens on high

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And on the world doth pour

His glories in a golden fhower.

Lo! Darkness trembling 'fore the hostile


Shrinks to the cavern deep and wood forlorn : The brood obfcene, that own her gloomy


Troop in her rear, and fly th' approach of

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Pale shivering ghosts, that dread th' all -cheer

ing light,

Quick, as the light'ning's flash, glide to fepulchral night.

But whence the gladdening beam
That pours his purple stream

O'er the long prospect wide ?

Tis Mirth. I fee her fit

In majefty of light,

With Laughter at her fide.
Bright-ey'd Fancy hovering near

'Wide waves her glancing wing in air ;
And young Wit flings his pointed dart,
That guiltlefs ftrikes the willing heart.
Fear not now Affliction's power,
Fear not now wild Paffion's rage,

Nor fear ye aught in evil hour,

Save the tardy hand of Age.

Now mirth hath heard the fuppliant Poet's


No cloud that rides the blaft, fhall vex the

troubled air.



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