Rear high thy bleak majestic hills, Thy airy heights, thy woodland reign, A COURT AUDIENCE. OLD South, a witty churchman reckon'd, Who at all preaching made a sport: The doctor stopp'd; began to call, 66 Pray 'wake the Earl of Lauderdale! My Lord! why 'tis a monstrous thing! You snore so loud-you'll 'wake the King!" 2 F 2 TO THE MAY FLY. POOR insect! what a little day Of sunny bliss is thine! And yet thou spread'st thy light wings gay, And bids't them, spreading, shine! Thou humm'st thy short, and busy tune, Unmindful of the blast; And, careless, while 'tis burning noon, A show'r would lay thy beauty low, The dew of twilight be The torrent of thy overthrow Thy storm of destiny! Then spread thy little shining wing; Hum on thy busy lay; For, man, like thee, has but his spring Like thine, it fades away! THE FEMALE PRATTLER. FR ROM morn to night, from day to day, You scold, repeat, and sing, and say, Forbear, my Fannia! oh, forbear! If your own health or ours you prize; For all mankind, that hear you, swear Your tongue's more killing than your eyes. Your tongue's a traitor to your face, Your fame's by your own noise obscur'd; All are distracted while they gaze, But if they listen, soon are cur'd. Your silence would acquire more praise Anonymous. A WISH. MINE be a cot, beside the hill, A bee-hive's hum shall sooth my ear; A willowy brook that turns a mill With many a fall, shall linger near. The swallow, oft, beneath my thatch, And share my meal, a welcome guest. Around my ivied porch shall spring Each fragrant flow'r that drinks the dew; And Lucy at her wheel shall sing, In russet gown and apron blue. The village church, among the trees Where first our marriage vows were giv'n, Where merry peals shall swell the breeze, And point with taper spire to heav'n. Rogers. LAURA. THINK not, while gayer swains invite Thou art the world's delighted guest, I will not say, how well, how long, But, Laura, should misfortune's wand Then, thoughtless of my own distress, Mrs Opie. |