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"An aching void where nought can come, But self-reproach, and secret gloom,

"

Earnest of future woe!

Let braggart sinners loudly boast:
To joy, to peace, to comfort lost,
True heart they do not know.

They dare not face rich Folly's frown;
To saucy Greatness they bow down.

Held fast in Passion's chain

They talk of liberty: 'tis prate.
The slaves of appetite and fate,

They start at every pain.

"Lest Death their trembling souls should seize, Their blood with mortal horrors freeze, And all their prospects end.

At that inevitable hour,

My parent, VIRTUE, proves her power,
An everlasting Friend!

"In life, in death, I follow her;

She, she alone, can joys confer,

To fill the human heart:

From heav'n together first we came :
Constant we breathe one common flame,

And never, never part!"

SPRING.

AN ODE.

BY DR. JOHNSON.

STERN Winter now, by Spring repress'd, Forbears the long-continued strife; And Nature on her naked breast, Delights to catch the gales of life.

Now o'er the rural kingdom roves
Soft Pleasure with her laughing train,
Love warbles in the vocal groves,

And Vegetation plants the plain.

Unhappy! whom to beds of pain
Arthritic tyranny consigns;
Whom smiling Nature courts in vain,

Though Rapture sings and Beauty shines.

Yet though my limbs disease invades,
Her wings Imagination tries,

And bears me to the peaceful shades

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Here stop, my soul, thy rapid flight,
Nor from the pleasing groves depart,
Where first great Nature charm'd my sight,
Where Wisdom first inform'd my heart.

Here let me through the vales pursue
A guide-a father-and a friend,
Once more great Nature's works renew,
Once more on Wisdom's voice attend.

From false caresses, causeless strife,
Wild hope, vain fear, alike remov'd;
Here let me learn the use of life,

When best enjoy'd-when most improv'd.

Teach me, thou venerable bower,
Cool Meditation's quiet seat,
The generous scorn of venal power,
The silent grandeur of retreat.

When pride by guilt to greatness climbs,
Or raging factions rush to war,
Here let me learn to shun the crimes
I can't prevent and will not share.

But lest I fall by subtler foes,

Bright Wisdom! teach me Curio's art,
The swelling passions to compose,
And quell the rebels of the heart,

THE MIDSUMMER'S WISH.

AN ODE.

BY THE SAME.

O PHEBUS! down the western sky,
Far hence diffuse thy burning ray,
Thy light to distant worlds supply,
And wake them to the cares of day.

Come, gentle Eve, the friend of Care, Come, Cynthia, lovely queen of night; Refresh me with a cooling breeze,

And cheer me with a lambent light.

Lay me where o'er the verdant ground
Her living carpet Nature spreads;
Where the green bower, with roses crown'd,
In showers its fragrant foliage sheds.

Improve the peaceful hour with wine,
Let music die along the grove;
Around the bowl let myrtles twine,

And every strain be tun'd to love.

Come, Stella, queen of all my heart!
Come, born to fill its vast desires!
Thy looks perpetual joys impart,
Thy voice perpetual love inspires.

Whilst all my wish and thine complete,
By turns we languish and we burn,
Let sighing gales our sighs repeat,
Our murmurs-murmuring brooks return.

Let me, when Nature calls to rest,
And blushing skies the morn foretel,
Sink on the down of Stella's breast,
And bid the waking world farewel.

AUTUM N.

AN ODE.

BY THE SAME.

ALAS! with swift and silent pace

Impatient Time rolls on the year; The seasons change, and Nature's face

Now sweetly smiles, now frowns severe.

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