But thou, fair nymph, thyfelf furvey In this fweet offspring of a day; That miracle of face muft fail: Thy charms are fweet, but charms are frail At morn they bloom, at evening die: Time muft indent that heavenly brow, This Moral to the fair difclofe, BROOME. THE NARCISSUS. AS pendent o'er the limpid ftream I bow'd my fnowy pride, And languish'd in a fruitless flame, For what the Fates deny'd; The fair Paftora chanc'd to pass, I faw her in the wat'ry glass, And lov'd the rival fair. Ye fates, no longer let me pine, Permit me, by your grace divine, That if by chance the gentle maid CUNNINGHAM. ON A SHADOW. AN ODE.. HOW are deluded human kind By empty shows betray'd? In all their hopes and schemes they find The profpects of a truncheon caft A foldier on the wars; Difmifs'd with shatter'd limbs at last, The fond philofopher for gain But tho' they toil with endless pain, They never find their own. By the fame rock the chemifts drown, What is the mad projector's care? He builds his caftles in the air, At court, the poor dependants fail, How to philofophers will found There's not a fubftance to be found, "But every where a shade.” ODE TO PEACE. O THOU, who bad'ft thy turtles bear To Britain bent his iron car, And bade his ftorms arife! Tir'd of his rúde tyrannic fway, But thou, who hear'ft the turning spheres, O Peace, thy injur'd robes upbind! Lies ftretch'd on earth to kifs thy feet, Let others court thy tranfient smile, By warlike honour led! And while around her ports rejoice, COLLINS. THE WINTER NOSEGAY. And Winter is deck'd with a smile. See, Mary, what beauties I bring Where the flow'rs have the charms of the Spring, 'Tis a bow'r of Arcadian fweets, A fortrefs to which the retreats While earth wears a mantle of fnow, On the beautiful bofom of May. |