with murmurs and repinings, or that the heart of man should be involved in gloom and melancholy. I the more inculcate this cheerfulness of temper, as it is a virtue in which our countrymen are observed to be more deficient than any other nation. Melancholy is a kind of dæmon that haunts our island, and often conveys herself to us in an easterly wind. A celebrated French novelist, in opposition to those who begin their romances with the flowery season of the year, enters on his story thus: In the gloomy month of November, when the people of England hang and drown themselves, a disconsolate lover walked out into the fields,' &c.

Every one ought to fence against the temper of his climate or constitution, and frequently to indulge in himself those considerations which may give him a serenity of mind, and enable him to bear up cheerfully against those little evils and misfortunes which are common to human nature, and which, by a right improvement of them, will produce a satiety of joy, and an uninterrupted happiness.

At the same time that I would engage my reader to consider the world in its most agreeable lights, I must own there are many evils which naturally spring up amidst the entertainments that are provided for us: but these, if rightly considered, should be far from overcasting the mind with sorrow, or destroying that cheerfulness of temper which I have been recommending. This interspersion of evil with good, and pain with pleasure, in the works of nature, is very truly ascribed by Mr. Locke, in his Essay on Human Understanding, to a moral reason in the following words:

'Beyond all this, we may find another reason why God hath scattered up and down "several degrees of pleasure and pain in all the things that environ and affect us," and blended them together in almost all that our thoughts and senses have to do with; that we finding imperfection, dissatisfaction, and want of complete happiness, in all the enjoyments which the creatures can afford us, might be led to seek it in the enjoyment of Him, "with whom there is fulness of joy, and at whose right hand are pleasures for evermore.'

L.

No. 388. MONDAY, MAY 26. By Steele.

·Tibi res antiquæ laudis et artis Ingredior, sanctos ausus recludere fontes.

VIRG. Georg. 2. v. 174.

For thee, I dare unlock the sacred spring,
And arts disclos'd by ancient sages sing.

MR. SPECTATOR,

Ir is my custom when I read your papers, to read over the quotations in the authors from whence you take them: as you mentioned a passage lately out of the second chapter of Solomon's Song, it occasioned my looking into it; and upon reading it, I thought the idea so exquisitely soft and tender, that I could not help making this paraphrase of it; which, now it is done, I can as little forbear sending it to you. Some marks of your approbation, which I have already received, have given me so sensible a taste of them, that I

can not forbear endeavouring after them as often as I can with any appearance of success. 'I am, sir,

'Your most obedient humble servant.'

The Second Chapter of Solomon's Song.

I.

As when in Sharon's field the blushing rose
Does its chaste bosom to the morn disclose,
Whilst all around the zephyrs bear

The fragrant odours through the air:

Or as the lily in the shady vale

Does o'er each flow'r with beauteous pride prevail,
And stands with dews and kindest sun-shine blest,
In fair pre-eminence, superior to the rest:
So if my love, with happy influence, shed
His eyes bright sun-shine on his lover's head,
Then shall the rose of Sharon's field,
And whitest lilies to my beauties yield.

Then fairest flow'rs with studious art combine,
The roses with the lilies join,

And their united charms are less than mine.

II.

As much as fairest lilies can surpass
A thorn in beauty, or in height the grass;
So does my love among the virgins shine,
Adorn'd with graces more than half divine;
Or as a tree, that, glorious to behold,
Is hung with apples, all of ruddy gold,
Hesperian fruit! and beautifully high,
Extends its branches to the sky;
So does my love the virgin's eyes invite!
'Tis he alone can fix their wand'ring sight,
Among ten thousand eminently bright.

III.

Beneath his pleasing shade

My wearied limbs at ease I laid,

And on his fragrant boughs reclin'd my head.
I pull'd the golden fruit with eager haste;
Sweet was the fruit, and pleasing to the taste;

With sparkling wine he crown'd the bowl,
With gentle ecstacies he fill'd my soul;
Joyous we sat beneath the shady grove,

And o'er my head he hung the banners of his love.

IV.

I faint! I die! my labouring breast

Is with the mighty weight of love opprest;
I feel the fire possess my heart,
And pain convey'd to ev'ry part,
Thro' all my veins the passion flies,
My feeble soul forsakes its place,
A trembling faintness seals my eyes,
And paleness dwells upon my face;
Oh! let my love with pow'rful odour stay
My fainting love-sick soul, that dies away;
One hand beneath me let him place,
With t'other press me in a chaste embrace.

V.

I charge you, nymphs of Zion, as you go
Arm'd with the sounding quiver and the bow,
Whilst through the lonesome woods you rove.
You ne'er disturb my sleeping love.

Be only gentle Zephyrs there,
With downy wings to fan the air;
Let sacred silence dwell around
To keep off each intruding sound:

And when the balmy slumber leaves his eyes,
May he to joys, unknown till then, arise.

VI.

But see! he comes! with what majestic gait
He onward bears his lovely state!

Now thro' the lattice he appears,
With softest words dispels my fears:
Arise, my fair one, and receive
All the pleasures love can give.
For now the sullen winter's past,
No more we fear the northern blast:
No storms nor threat'ning clouds appear,
No falling rains deform the year.
My love admits of no delay,

Arise my fair, and come away.

VII.

Already, see! the teeming earth

Brings forth the flow'rs, her beauteous birth,
The dews and soft descending show'rs,
Nurse the new-born tender flow'rs.
Hark! the birds melodious sing,
And sweetly usher in the spring.
Close by his fellow sits the dove,
And, billing, whispers her his love.
The spreading vines with blossoms swell,
Diffusing round a grateful smell,
Arise, my fair one, and receive
All the blessings love can give:
For love admits of no delay,
Arise, my fair, and come away.

VIII.

As to its mate the constant dove, Flies thro' the covert of the spicy grove; So let us hasten to some lonely shade,

There let me safe in thy lov'd arms be laid,

Where no intruding hateful noise

Shall damp the sound of thy melodious voice;

Where I may gaze, and mark each beauteous grace;
For sweet thy voice, and lovely is thy face.

IX.

As all of me, my love, is thine, Let all of thee be ever mine.

Among the lilies we will play,

Fairer, my love, thou art, than they;

Till the purple morn arise,

And balmy sleep forsake thine eyes:
Till the gladsome beams of day

Remove the shades of night away;

Then when soft sleep shall from thy eyes depart,
Rise like the bounding roe, or lusty hart,

Glad to behold the light again,

From Bether's mountains darting o'er the plain.

T.

A