ON HAVING OUR MINDS SUITED TO

OUR FORTUNE.

ADDRESSED TO A FRIEND.

THIS Would be still my wish, could I

Such bitter curse allow,

That those I hate have spirits high,
With fortunes that are low.

But surely when we vapour most,
If angry Fortune frown,

She'll pull (in spite of all our boast)
Our lofty spirits down.

How seldom is our good enjoy'd,
Our ill how hardly borne,
When all our fancies are employ'd
To kick against the thorn.

A lowly heart, and little eye,
Kind heaven on me bestow;
Let those I hate have spirits high,
With fortunes that are low.

These maxims sage and dry, you'll say,
These rigid moral rules,

Take our superior sense away,

And sink us into fools.

Whoe'er can ease by folly get,
With justice may despise
The thoughtful unenjoying wit,
The miserable wise.

But sure ourselves aright to see,,
True wisdom well may bear;
"Tis nobly great to dare to be
No greater than we are.

Think not I envy courts and kings,
Or peevish hate mankind;
Think not this declaration springs-
From meanness of my mind.

Ev'n I perhaps, if heav'n would deign
High place on me to show'r,
As well as any lord might reign,

As equal to my power.

My mind with weight of bus'ness charg'd,
Of course would bigger grow;
As rivers length'ning when enlarg'd,
Enlarge their channels too.

Till then, a lowly heart and eye

Kind heav'n on me bestow;

Let those I hate have spirits high,

With fortunes that are low.

Weekly Amusement.

A THOUGHT ON WAKING.

SLEEP by night, and cares by day, Bear my fleeting life away; Lo! in yonder eastern skies Sol appears, and bids me rise; Tells me "Life is on the wing, And has no returning spring; Death comes on with steady pace, And life's the only day of grace." Shining preacher! shining morning! Let me take th' important warning! Rouse then all my active pow'rs, Well improve the coming hours; Let no trifles kill the day, (Trifles oft our hearts betray) Virtue, science, knowledge, truth,Guide th' enquiries of my youth: Wisdom, and experience sage,

Then shall sooth the cares

of

age:

They with time shall never die,
They will lead to joys on high,
They the paths of life display,
Shining with celestial day;
Blissful path, with safety trod,
And it leads the soul to God.

TO A LADY

ON HER RETURN FROM BATHING.

Be hush'd, ye winds, ye tempests cease, My love now tries the faithless main; Be hush'd, ye waves, and roll in peace, Until my love return again.

Yet should the wat'ry mountains roll,
And overwhelm their lovely prize,
'Twere just, for she their treasure stole,
Their brightest glitt'ring gems for eyes.

Yet see, more bright in all her charms,
My darling girl returning see;
She tells me all her soul's alarms,
What boldly dar'd the saucy sea.

That down her hair its fond embrace,
The raptur'd waves enamour'd clung,
And, loath to leave so sweet a place,
Bright gems adown her tresses hung.

That one fond wave, upon her breast,
To die with ecstacy resolv❜d,

And weeping as it closer prest,

In showers of silver tears dissolv'd.

Yet grateful still for so much bliss,
It left a gift its love to prove;
And fix'd its coral in a kiss,

Upon the ruby lips of love.

Literary Magazine.

CHLOE HUNTING.

WHILST thousands court fair Chloe's love,

She fears the dang'rous joy,

But, Cynthia-like, frequents the grove,

As lovely and as coy.

With the same speed she seeks the hind,
Or hunts the flying hare,
She leaves pursuing swains behind,
To languish and despair.

Oh, strange caprice in thy dear breast,
Whence first this whim began;

To follow thus each worthless beast,
And shun their sov'reign, man!

Consider, fair, what 'tis you do,

How thus they both must die, Not surer they, when you pursue, Than we whene'er you fly.

Soame Jenyns.

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