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Here let me thro' the vales purfue
Wild hope, vain fear, alike remov'd;
When beft enjoy'd-when moft improv'd.
I can't prevent, and will not fhare.
Bright Wisdom, teach me Curio's art,
AN OD E.
PHOEBUS! down the western sky,
Come, gentle Eve, the friend of care,
And cheer me with a lambent light.
Let mufick die along the grove;
And every strain be tun'd to love. Come, Stella, queen of all my heart! Come, born to fill its vaft defires! Thy looks perpetual joys impart,
Thy voice perpetual love infpires.
Our murmurs-murmuring brooks return.
AN OD E.
LAS! with fwift and filent pace, Impatient time rolls on the year; The seasons change, and nature's face Now fweetly fmiles, now frowns fevere.
'Twas Spring, 'twas Summer, all was gay, Now Autumn bends a cloudy brow; The flowers of Spring are fwept away,
And Summer-fruits defert the bough.
As Boreas ftrips the bending trees.
Beneath the moon's pale orb I ftray,
As Progne pours the melting lay.
O! would fome god but wings fupply!
And shiver on a blasted plain.
If glooms, and showers, and ftorms prevail; And Ceres flies the naked field,
And flowers, and fruits, and Phoebus fail? Oh! what remains, what lingers yet,
To cheer me in the darkening hour? The grape remains! the friend of wit,
In love, and mirth, of mighty power.
Hafte-prefs the clusters, fill the bowl;
The pulfe with vigorous rapture beat; My Stella with new charms fhall glow, And every blifs in wine fhall meet.
AN OD E.
O more the morn, with tepid rays,
And Phoebus holds a doubtful fway.
With fighs we view the hoary hill, The leaflefs wood, the naked field,
The fnow-topt cot, the frozen rill. No mufick warbles thro' the grove,
No vivid colours paint the plain; No more with devious fteps I rove
Thro' verdant paths now fought in vain. Aloud the driving tempeft roars,
Congeal'd, impetuous fhowers defcend Hafte, close the window, bar the doors, Fate leaves me Stella, and a friend.
In nature's aid let art fupply
With light and heat my little sphere;
Or mirth repeat the jocund tale;
And o'er the season wine prevail. Yet time life's dreary winter brings,
When mirth's gay tale fhall please no more; Nor mufick charm-tho' Stella fings;
Nor love, nor wine, the fpring restore. Catch then, O! catch the tranfient hour, Improve each moment as it flies; Life's a fhort fummer-man a flower, He dies-alas! how foon he dies!
THE WINTER's WALK.
EHOLD, my fair, where'er we rove,
Stern Winter in thy force confefs'd;
I feel thy power ufurp my breaft. Enlivening hope, and fond defire,
Refign the heart to spleen and care; Scarce frighted Love maintains her fire, And rapture faddens to despair,