O’er our merry midnight bowls,

O! how happy shall we be ;
Day was made for vulgar souls,

Night, my boys, for you and me.

SONG LXX.

Let care be a stranger to each jovial soul
Who Aristippus-like can his passions controul,
Of wisest philosophers, wisest was he
Who attentive to ease, let his mind still be free;
The prince, peer, or peasant, to him were the same,
For pleas'd he was pleasing wherever he came ;
But still turn'd his back on contention and strife,
Resolving to live all the days of his life.

A friend to mankind, all mankind was his friend,
And the peace of his mind was his ultimate end;
He found fault with none, if none found fault with him,
If his friend had a humour, he humour'd his whim;
If wine was the word, why he bumper'd his glass ;
If love was the topic, he toasted his lass;
But still, &c.

If councils disputed, if councils agreed,
He found fault with neither, for this was his creed,
That let them be guided by folly or sense,
'Twou'd be semper eadem ani hundred years hence ;
He thought it unsocial to be malcontent,
If the tide went with him, with the tide too he went ;
But still, &c.

Then let us all follow Aristippus' rules,
And deem his opponents both asses and mules ;
Let those not contented to lead or to drive,
By the bees of their sect be drove out of their hive ;
Expell’d from the mansions of quiet and ease,
May they never find out the blest art how to please ;
While our friends and ourselves, not forgetting our

wives,
By these maxims may live all the days of our lives.

SONG LXXI.

Written for a convivial Meeting, formeil by a Party of

select young Friends.

Ye frec-hearted sons of good-humour and mirth!

Disciples of concord, that never can cloy!
O say, to what sage of convivial worth
Shall we tune the gay tribute of juvenile joy?

Say, shall we not raise

The chorus of praise
To him who determin’d to live all his days;
Who boasted the pleasure all others to please,
Renown'd Aristippus !—the patron of ease.

Like him let us banish that misanthrope Care,

May amity's pow'r to expel him combine ;
Or hence let Silenus the vagabond bear,
And fetter him down to the root of the vine :

There, there let him rot,

Unpitied his lot,
By the sons of festivity scorn'd and forgot :
Whilst we, here uniting our efforts to please,
May rival the patron of freedom and ease

That our vigils may long in good fellowship glide,

Far hence be the orgies of riotous glee ;
O’er the councils of mirth let discretion preside,
And the impulse of nature wait reason's decree :

Then harmony's pow'r

Shall welcome the hour
We duly devote to her favourite bow'r ;
And still, as time ripens each effort to please,
Sing praise to the patron of freedom and ease.

Fill, fill then each glass 'till it mantles with fire, 'Tis the juice of the grape that stamps truth on the

breast; So here's to the health of the maid we admire-Was it drank e'en in nectar, 'twould give it a zest.

Your glasses once more

Uncharg'd:—as before,
The rosy libations of friendship restore;
And thus while we mingle our efforts to please,
Let's toast Aristippus—the patron of ease!

My mind to me a kingdom is ;

Such perfect joy therein I find,
As far exceeds all earthly bliss,

That God or nature hath assign'd:
Though much I want that most would have,
Yet still my mind forbids to crave.

Content I live, this is my stay; .

I seek no more than may suffice :
I press to bear no haughty sway;

Look what I lack, my mind supplies.
Lo! thus I triumph like a king,

Content with that my mind doth bring.
Vol. II.

H

I see how plenty surfeits oft,

And hasty climbers soonest fall; I see that such as sit aloft

Mishap doth threaten most of all : These get with toil, and keep with fear; Such cares my mind could never bear.

No princely pomp, nor wealthy store

No force to win a victory; No wily wit to salve a sore,

No shape to win a lover's eye ; To none of these I yield as thrall;

For why? my mind despiseth all.

Some have too much, yet still they crave,

I little have, yet seek no more : They are but poor, though much they have;

And I am rich with little store : They poor, I rich; they beg, I give ; They lack, I lend; they pine, I live.

I laugh not at another's loss,

I grudge not at another’s gain ;
No worldly wave my mind can toss,

I brook that is another's bane :
I fear no fue, nor fawn on friend ;
I loath not life, nor dread mine end.

My wealth is health and perfect ease ;

My conscience clear my chief defence : I never seek by bribes to please,

Nor by desert to give offence : Thus do I live, thus will I die ; Would all did so as well as I.