The untaught harmony of spring: While whifp'ring pleasure as they fly, Cool Zephyrs thro' the clear blue sky Their gather'd fragrance fling. Where'er the oak's thick branches ftretch A broader browner fhade; Where'er the rude and mofs-grown beech O'er-canopies the glade 2, a bank O'er-canopied with luscious woodbine. Shakefp. Midf. Night's Dream. And float amid the liquid noon : Some lightly o'er the current skim, Some fhew their gayly-gilded trim Quick-glancing to the fun. To Contemplation's fober eye Such is the race of Man : And they that creep, and they that fly, -fporting with quick glance Shew to the fun their waved coats drop'd with gold. Milton's Paradife Loft, book 7. While infects from the threshold preach, &c. M. GREEN, in the Grotto. Dodfley's Mifcellanies, Vol. V. p. 161. Alike the Bufy and the Gay But flutter thro' life's little day, In fortune's varying colours drest: Brush'd by the hand of rough Mischance, Or chill'd by age, their airy dance They leave, in duft to rest. Methinks I hear in accents low The sportive kind reply: Poor moralift! and what art thou? A folitary fly! Thy Joys no glittering female meets, No hive haft thou of hoarded fweets, |