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Mark, when from thousand mingled dyes
Thou seeft one pleasing form arise,
How active light, and thoughtful shade,
In greater scenes each other aid ;
Mark, when the different notes agree
In friendly contrariety,
How passion's well-accorded strife
Gives all the harmony of life ;
Thy pictures shall thy conduct frame,
Consistent still, though not the same;
Thy music teach the nobler art,
To tune the regulated heart,

EVENING: an Ode.

To STELLA.

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EVENING now from purple wings
Sheds the grateful gifts the brings ;
Brilliant drops bedeck the mead,
Cooling breezes shake the reed;
Shake the reed, and curl the stream
Silver'd o'er with Cynthia's beam;
Near the chequer'd, lonely grove,
Hears, and keeps thy secrets, Love.
Stella, thither let us stray,
Lightly o'er the dewy way.
Phæbus drives his burning car,
Hence, my lovely Stella, far;
In his stead, the Queen of Night
Round us pours a lambent light ;

Light that seems but just to show
Breasts that beat, and cheeks that glow,
Let us now, in whisper'd joy,
Evening's filent hours employ,
Silence best, and conscious shades,
Please the hearts that love invades,
Other pleasures give them pain,
Lovers all but love disdain.

TO THE SAME.

WHETHER Stella's eyes are found
Fix'd on earth, or glancing round,
If her face with pleasure glow,
If the figh at others woe,
If her easy air express
Conscious worth, or soft distress,
Stella's eyes, and air, and face,
Charm with undiminish'd

grace.
If on her we see difplay'd
Pendant gems, and rich brocade,
If her chintz with lefs expence
Flows in eafy negligence ;
Still the lights the conscious flame,
Still her charms appear the fame;
If she strikes the vocal strings,
If she's filent, speaks, or fings,
If the fit, or if the move,
Still we love and still approve.

Vain the casual, tranfient glance, Which alone can please by chance,

Beauty,

Beauty, which depends on art,
Changing with the changing art,
Which demands the toilet's aid,
Pendant

gems

and rich brocade.
I those charms alone can prize,
Which from conftant nature rise,
Which nor circumstance, nor dress,
E’er can make, or more, or less.

To a FRIEND.

No mo

more thus brooding o'er yon heap,
With Avarice painful vigils keep;
Still 'unenjoy'd the present store,
Still endless fighs are breath'd for more.
O! quit the shadow, catch the prize,
Which not all India's treasure buys !
To purchase Heaven has gold the power ?'
Can gold remove the mortal hour?
In life can love be bought with gold ?
Are friendship's pleasures to be sold ?
No—all that 's worth a'wish-a thought,
Fair virtue gives unbrib’d, unbought.
Cease then on trash thy hopes to bind,
Let nobler views engage thy mind.

With science tread the wond'rous way,
Or learn the Muses' moral lay;
In social hours indulge thy soul,
Where mirth and temperance mix the bowl ;
Vol. I.

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To virtuous love resign thy breast,
And be, by blesfing beauty-blest.

Thus taste the feast by nature spread,
Ere youth and all its joys are fled;
Come taste with me the balm of life,
Secure from pomp, and wealth, and strife.
I boaft whate'er for man was meant,
In health, and Stella, and content;
And scorn! oh! let that scorn be thine !
Mere things of clay that dig the mine.

STELLA IN MOURNING.

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WHEN lately Stella's form display'd
The beauties of the gay brocade,
The nymphs, who found their power decline,
Proclaim'd her not fo fair as fine.
“ Fate! snatch away the bright disguise,
“ And let the goddess trust her eyes.”
Thus blindly pray'd the Fretful Fair,
And Fate malicious heard the pray'r;
But, brighten’d by the fable dress,
As virtue rises in distress,
Since Stella still extends her reign,
Ah! how shall envy footh her pain?

Th'adoring Youth and envious Fair,
Henceforth Thall form one comnion prayer ;
And love and hate alike implore
The Ikies--" That Stella mourn no more."

To

To STELL A.

NOT the soft sighs of vernal gales,
The fragrance of the flowery vales,
The murmurs of the crystal rill,
The vocal grove, the verdant hill;
Not all their charms, though all unite,
Can touch my bosom with delight.

Not all the gems on India's shore,
Not all Peru's unbounded store,
Not all the power, nor all the fame,
That heroes, kings, or poets, claim;
Nor knowledge, which the learn'd approve ;
To form one with my soul can move.

Yet nature's charms allure my eyes,
And knowledge, wealth, and fame, I prize ;
Fame, wealth, and knowledge, I obtain,
Nor seek I nature's charms in vain;
In lovely Stella all combine ;
And, lovely Stella ! thou art mine.

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