Whose pensive ear no wakeful sounds alarm, Save the lone owl, slow clock, or bellman's drowsy charm. Me let the cheerful dance engage, Swift urg'd along the lighted dome; Let the sage Hermit shun mankind, Penurious on the verdant herb to sup, And of the chilling stream to drain his beechen cup. Be mine, amidst the social band, The raptures of champaign to taste, 1 ODE XXXIX. ΤΟ POVERTY. BY THE REV. THOMAS PENROSE. HIE thee hence! thou spectre foul, Hence! nor o'er yon dwelling scowl Hence!—from the artless bard keep wide aloof- Who, deaf to Mercy's soft controul, Plund'ring, unmov'd the orphan's cry can hear, But Of Genius, friend to all, Nature's ingenuous child. Constant toil, and coarsest fare, Long indeed the village hind In silent apathy may bear, While o'er his brow Health's rosy wreath is twin'd: Rash Virgin, to thy pray r I yield: Humic Aides H. Burney de Grignion sculp London Printed for John Bell British Library Strand Nov. 8** 1791 |