« PředchozíPokračovat »
Now therefore! Edipus! declare
purpose with so much ado, At last produces !-tell me true, And take me for your pains!
IN TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE.
NONE ever shared the social feast,
None more attentive to the call.
Arrived, the pensionary band,
As in her ancient mistress' lap
But strife ensues.
Puss waxes warm,
And with protruded claws
At once, resentful of the deed,
But, Lydia, bid thy fury rest;
For she that will with kittens jest,
INVITATION TO THE REDBREAST.
SWEET bird, whom the winter constrains-
Though in all places equally free,
Thou art sure to be welcome to me.
At sight of the first feeble ray,
That pierces the clouds of the east, To inveigle thee every day
My windows shall show thee a feast;
Thee mindful of benefit long,
Bespeaks the renewal of spring,
Or where it shall please thee to sing: And shouldst thou, compell'd by a frost, Come again to my window or door, Doubt not an affectionate host,
Only pay, as thou pay'dst me before.
Thus music must needs be confest
To flow from a fountain above;
And who on the globe can be found,
THE shepherd touch'd his reed; sweet Philomel Essay'd, and oft essay'd to catch the strain, And treasuring, as on her ear they fell,
The numbers, echoed note for note again.
The peevish youth, who ne'er had found before
She dared the task, and rising, as he rose,
Thus strength, not skill, prevail'd. O fatal strife,
And he may wish that he had never won!
ODE ON THE DEATH OF A LADY,
WHO LIVED ONE HUNDRED YEARS, AND DIED ON HER BIRTHDAY, 1728.
ANCIENT dame, how wide and vast,
To a race like ours appears, Rounded to an orb at last,
All thy multitude of years! We, the herd of human kind,
Frailer and of feebler powers; We, to narrow bounds confined, Soon exhaust the sum of ours.
Death's delicious banquet, we
Perish even from the womb, Swifter than a shadow flee, Nourish'd, but to feed the tomb.
Seeds of merciless disease
Lurk in all that we enjoy ; Some, that waste us by degrees, Some, that suddenly destroy.
And if life o'erleap the bourn,
Fast as moons can wax and wane,
Half our years are fled and gone.