The tender excefs that enamours the heart,
To few is imparted, to millions deny'd;
Tis the brain of the victim that tempers the dart,
And Fools jeft at that, for which Sages have dy'd:

Each change and excefs hath through life been my doom,

And well can I speak of its joy and its strife; The bottle affords us a glimpfe through the gleam, But Love's the true funshine that gladdens our

life,

Come then, rofy VENUS, and fpread o'er my fight,
The magic illufions that ravish the foul!.
Awake in my breaft the foft dream of delight,
And drop from thy myrtle one leaf in my bowl.

Then deep will I drink of the nectar divine,.

Nor e'er jolly, God, from thy banquet remove, But each tube of my heart ever thirst for the vine That's mellow'd by Friendship, and sweeten'd by Love.

TO

TO WILLIAM PARSONS, ESQ.

BY MRS.

PIOZZI.

WHILE Venus infpires, and fuch verfes you fing,
As Prior might envy and praise;

While Merry can mount on the eagle's wide wing,
Or melt in the nightingale's lays;
On the beautiful banks of this claffical stream
While Bertie can carelessly rove,
Dividing his hours and varying his theme

With Philofophy, Friendship, and Love;

In vain all the beauties of nature or art
To roufe my tranquility tried ;

Too often, faid I, has this languishing heart
For the charms of celebrity figh'd:
Now footh'd by foft mufic's feducing delights,
With reciprocal tenderness bleft,

No more will I pant for poetical flights,
Or let vanity rob me of rest.

The Slave and the Wrestlers, what are they to me!
From plots and contention remov'd ;

And Job with ftill lefs fatisfaction I fee,

When I think on the pains I have prov'd.

*Two celebrated pieces of fculpture in the Tribuna.

The fine picture of Job, in the fame place, by Bartolomeo della Porta.

It was thus that I thought in oblivion to drown
- Each thought from remembrance that flows;
Thus fancy was stagnant, I honestly own,
But I call'd that ftagnation repofe.

Now wak'd by my countryman's voice once again
To enjoyment of pleafures long past,

Her powers elastic the foul shall regain,

And recal her original taste :

Like the loadstone which long lay conceal'd in the earth

Among metals that glitter'd around, Inactive her talents, and only call'd forth When the ore correfpondent was found.

WRITTEN ON THE ANNIVERSARY OF HER

WEDDING, JULY 25, 1785.

THO'" footh'd by foft mufic's feducing delights, "And blefs'd with reciprocal love,"

These cannot impede your poetical flights,
For ftill friends to the Mufes they prove.

Then fitting fo gaily your table around,
Let us all with glad sympathy view

What joys in this fortunate union abound,

This union of wit and virtú!

May

May the day which now fees you so mutually bleft In full confidence, love, and esteem,

Still return with increase of delight to your breast,
And be Hymen your favourite theme:

Nor fear that your fertile strong genius can fail ;
All thoughts of ftagnation dispel :

The fame which fo long has attended a Thrale,
A Piozzi alone can excel!

As the ore must for ever obedient be found,
By the loadstone attracted along,

So in England you drew all the Poets around
By the magical force of your fong:

The fame power on Arno's fair fide you retain,
Your talents with wonder we fee;

And we hope from your converse those talents to

gain,

Tho', like magnets-in fmaller degree.

W. P.

IMITATION OF A SONNET ON AN AIR BALLOON, FROM THE ITALIAN OF PARINI.

BY MR S. PIOZZI,

IN empty space behold me hurl'd,
The sport and wonder of the world,
Who eager gaze while I aspire,
Expanded with aerial fire.

And

And fince Man's felfifh race demands
More empire than the feas or lands;
For him my courage mounts the skies,
Invoking Nature whilst I rife.

Mother of all! if thus refin'd,
My flights can benefit mankind,
Let them by me new realms prepare,
And take poffeffion of the air.

But if to ills alone I lead,
Quickly, oh quick let me recede;
Or blaze a splendid exhibition,

A beacon for their mad ambition!

ON THE RIGHT HON. LADY STAVORDALE, NOW COUNTESS OF ILCHESTER: WRITTEN AT BATH

IN 1771.

YE ftately fwans, in beauty's pride,

"Who down the filver Avon fail,

Awhile neglect the urging tide,
Το gaze at lovely Stavordale.

Your downy breasts are not more white
Than her's is free from stain (I ween):

In beauty, fhe appears as bright

As her you ferve, the Paphian Queen!

Come