And, like a rude ill-manner'd Clown,
Kick'd, with his Foot, the Vomit down.
The Patient, now grown wondrous light,
Whipp'd off the Napkin from his Sight;
Briskly lift up his Head, and knew
The Breeches and the Jerkin's Hue :
And fmil'd to hear him grumbling fay,
As down the Stairs he ran his way,
He'd ne'er fet Foot within his Door,
And jump down open Throats no more:
No; while he liv'd, he'd ne'er again
Run, like a Fox, down the Red Lane.

Our Patient thus, his Inmate gone,

Cur'd of the Crotchets in his Crown,

Joyful his Gratitude expreffes,

With thousand Thanks, and hundred Pieces.

And thus, with much of Pains and Coft,

Regain'd the Health, he never loft.

MORA L.

Taught by long Miseries, we find

Repofe is feated in the Mind ;

And most Men foon or late have own'd,

'Tis there, or no where, to be found.
This real Wisdom timely knows,

Without Experience of the Woes;
Nor needs inftructive Smart, to fee,
That all on Earth is Vanity.
Lofs, Difappointment, Paffion, Strife,
Whate'er torment, or troubles Life,
Tho' groundless, grievous in its Stay,
"Twill shake our Tenements of Clay,
When past, as nothing we esteem;
And Pain like Pleasure is but Dream.

HO

HORACE, Ode XI. Book I.

To LEUCONO E.

IS ill; attempt not to foresee

The Ends ordain'd for You and Me:

No; never to Magicians run,

To learn the Fate, You cannot shun:
Whether more Winters You may taste,

Or this Year's Snow defcends Your laft;
Ask not the Gods' Decrees to know,

But use the Bleffings they bestow:
From lengthen'd Cares, from fruitless Strife,
O fnatch this little Blaze of Life!

;

Our Age endures continual Death
And wastes with every wasting Breath:
Arrest To-day, for Time's a Thief,

And lend the Morrow no Belief.

will

D

DE

DESCRIPTION of the SPRING.

G

From A NA CREON.

Ladfome Spring brings on the Year,

And all things with a Smile appear;
The Earth with sweetest Flow'rs is spread,
In Green of lovelieft Verdure clad.

Peace, whilst roaring Tempefts fleep,
Smooths the Wrinkles of the Deep.

The Sun, which late fhone out from high
Feebly thro' the frozen Sky,

Now rejoyces to display

All the Majesty of Day.

Men are ravish'd with the Scene ;

Cheerful Looks, and Mirth ferene,

And Joy in every Face are seen.

The Trees, with flagrant Bloffoms crown'd,

Breathe their Odours all around.

The

The Vine the Genial Heat receives

Thro' the Branches, thro' the Leaves,

Gently glides the vital Sap,

And animates the glorious Grape,

SONG.

I.

Forgive, fair Creature, form'd to please,

Forgive a wond'ring Youth's Defire:

Thofe Charms, thofe Virtues when he fees,
How can he fee, and not admire?

II.

While each the other still improves,

The fairest Face, the fairest Mind;

Not, with the Proverb, he that loves,

But he that loves You not, is blind.