And my divine Althea brings,

To whisper at my gates;
When I lye tangled in her haire,
And fettered in her eye,

The birds that wanton in the aire,

Know no such libertye.

When flowing cups run swiftly round,
With no allaying thames,

Our careless heads with roses croun'd,
Our hearts with loyal flames;
When thirsty griefe in wine we steepe,
When healths and draughts goe free,
Fishes, that tipple in the deepe,

Know no such libertee.

Stone walls do not a prison make,

Nor iron bars a cage,
Mindes, innocent and quiet, take

That for a hermitage.

If I have freedom in my love,
And in my soul am free,
Angels alone that soar above
Enjoy such libertie.

JENNY AND CHLOE.

The moon's pale lustre, and the lamp's dim ray,
Best suit your Chloe; Chloe hates the day.
But place my Jenny in what light you will,

And she's the same dear, charming, Jenny still.

TO CELIA.

BY BEN JONSON.

Drink to me only with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine;
Or leave a kiss but in the cup,
And I'll not look for wine.

The thirst that from the soul doth rise,
Doth ask a drink divine;

But might I of Jove's nectar sip,
I would not change for thine.

I sent thee, late, a rosy wreath,
Not so much honouring thee,
As giving it a hope that there
It could not wither'd be;

But thou thereon didst only breathe
And send'st it back to me;

Since when it grows and smells, I swear,

Not of itself, but thee.

GALLANT REBUKE OF GEORGE II.

The privilege of the family of De Courcy, Barons of Kinsale, to wear their hats in the King's presence, is well known, although not at all times exercised. Soon after the accession of George II. to the throne, the then Lord Kinsale, who had just come to his title, was introduced at court with the usual ceremo

nies. Whether from mistake in etiquette, or from pride, instead of putting on his hat and immediately taking it off again, Lord Kinsale walked about the drawing room for a considerable time with his hat on. The courtiers all stared, and the whole assembly was thrown into some embarrassment. The King noticing the circumstance, politely went up to his Lordship, and told him very good naturedly, that he believed he was under some mistake, for although he had an undoubted right to wear his hat before him, yet his Lordship appeared to have forgotten that there were ladies in the room. Lord Kinsale instantly felt the rebuke, bowed, and took off his hat.

WRITTEN ON AN HOUR GLASS.
Those little atoms that, in silence, pour
And measure out with even pace the hour,
Were once Alcippus, struck by Gallia's eyes,
Wretched he burnt, and here in ashes lies,
Which, ever streaming, this sad truth attest,
"That lovers count the time, and know no rest."

THE FAIR SCHOLAR.

BY HORACE WALPOLE.

Addressed to a French Lady learning English.
Tho' British accents your attention fire,
You cannot learn so fast as we admire :

Scholars, like you, but slowly can improve, For who would teach you but the verb--I love.

THE SNOW BALL.

White as her hand, fair Julia threw

A ball of silver snow;

The frozen globe fir'd as it flew,

My bosom felt its glow.

Strange power of love! whose great command

Can thus a snow-ball arm,
When sent, fair Julia, from thy hand,

E'en ice itself can warm.

ΤΟ ΑΝΝΑ.

BY ROBERT BURNS.

Anna, thy charms my bosom fire,

And waste my soul with care;
But, ah! how bootless to admire,
When fated to despair!

Yet in thy presence, lovely fair,

To hope, may be forgiv'n;
For, sure, 'twere impious to despair

So much in sight of Heav'n!

How should we then secure our hearts?
Love's power we all must feel,

F

Who thus can, by strange magic arts,
In ice his flames conceal.

"Tis thou, alone, fair Julia know, Can'st quench my fierce desire ; And not by Water, Ice, or Snow,

But by an equal fire.

LORD SALISBURY'S IMPROMPTU.

To a fly on a Lady's lip.

Oh, happy, happy fly,

If I were you, and you were I,
Then I should be the happy fly,

And you would be Lord Salisbury.

THE INVENTION OF KISSING,

BY DR. WOLCOT.

When we dwell on the lips of the lass we adore,
Not a pleasure in nature is missing,

May his soul be in heav'n! he deserv'd it, I'm sure,
Who was the inventor of kissing.

Master Adam, I verily think, was the man
Whose discovery will ne'er be surpass'd;

And since the sweet game with creation began,
To the end of the world may it last.