HEY call thee rich-I deem thee poor,
Since, if thou dar'st not use thy store,
But sav'st it only for thine heirs,
The treasure is not thine, but theirs.
ON FEMALE INCONSTANCY.
RICH, hadst hast none,
So surely want extinguishes the flame, And she, who call'd thee once her pretty one, And her Adonis, now inquires thy name.
Where wast thou born, Sosicrates, and where,
In what strange country can thy parents live,
Who seem'st, by thy complaints, not yet aware
That want's a crime no woman can forgive?
ON A CHARACTER.
You give your cheeks a rosy stain,
With washes dye your hair,
But paint and washes both are vain
To give a youthful air.
Those wrinkles mock your daily toil,
No labour will efface 'em,
You wear a mask of smoothest oil,
Yet still with ease we trace 'em.
An art so fruitless then forsake,
Which though you much excel in,
You never can contrive to make
Old Hecuba Young Helen.
ON ENVY.
says the Theban bard,
From my wishes I discard ;
Envy, let me rather be,
Rather, far, a theme for thee !
Pity to distress is shown;
Envy to the great alone-
So the Theban-But to shine
Less conspicuous be mine!
I prefer the golden mean
Pomp and penury between,
For alarm and peril wait
Ever on the loftiest state,
And the lowest, to the end,
Obloquy and scorn attend.
FT we enhance our ills by discontent,
And give them bulk, beyond what Nature meant
A parent, brother, friend deceased, to cry—
"He's dead indeed, but he was born to die "-
Such temperate grief is suited to the size
And burthen of the loss; is just and wise,
But to exclaim-"Ah! wherefore was I born,
Thus to be left, for ever thus forlorn?"
Who thus laments his loss invites distress,
And magnifies a woe that might be less,
Through dull despondence to his lot resign'd,
And leaving reason's remedy behind.
Translated from the Latin of Owen.
ON ONE IGNORANT AND ARROGANT.
THOU mayst of double ign'rance boast,
Who know'st not that thou nothing know'st.
THAT thou mayst injure no man, dove-like be,
And serpent-like, that none may injure thee!
TO A FRIEND IN DISTRESS.
I WISH thy lot, now bad, still worse, my friend; For when at worst, they say, things always mend.
WHEN little more than boy in age,
I deem'd myself almost a sage;
But now seem worthier to be styled,
For ignorance-almost a child.
SUNSET AND SUNRISE.
CONTEMPLATE, when the sun declines,
Thy death, with deep reflection!
And when again he rising shines,
Thy day of resurrection!
Translations from the French of Madame De La Mothe Guyon.
LOVE FAITHFUL IN THE ABSENCE OF THE BELOVED.
N vain ye woo me to your harmless joys,
Your shades, the witnesses of many a vow,
Breathed forth in happier days, are irksome now;
Denied that smile 'twas once my heaven to see,
Such scenes, such pleasures, are all past with me.
In vain he leaves me, I shall love him still;
And, though I mourn, not murmur at his will ;
I have no cause-an object all divine
Might well grow weary of a soul like mine;
Yet pity me, great God !-forlorn, alone,
Heartless and hopeless, life and love all gone.
EACE has unveil'd her smiling face,
And woos thy soul to her embrace,
Enjoy'd with ease, if thou refrain
From earthly love, else sought in vain ;
She dwells with all who truth prefer,
But seeks not them who seek not her.
Yield to the Lord, with simple heart,
All that thou hast, and all thou art;
Renounce all strength but strength divine,
And peace shall be for ever thine :
Behold the path which I have trod,
My path, till I go home to God.
THE PERFECT SACRIFICE.
PLACE an offering at Thy shrine.
From taint and blemish clear,
Simple and pure in its design,
Of all that I hold dear.
I yield Thee back Thy gifts again,
Thy gifts which I most prize;
Desirous only to retain
The notice of Thine eyes.
But if, by Thine adored decree,
That blessing be denied ;
Resign'd, and unreluctant, see
My every wish subside.
Thy will in all things I approve,
Exalted or cast down:
Thy will in every state I love,
And even in Thy frown.
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