ODE ON THE DEATH OF A LADY, Who lived one hundred Years, and died on her Birth-day, 1728. ANCIENT dame, how wide and vast, Rounded to an orb at last, All thy multitude of years! We the herd of human kind, Frailer and of feebler pow'rs; We, to narrow bounds confin'd, Soon exhaust the sum of ours. Death's delicious banquet-we Perish even from the womb, Swifter than a shadow flee, Nourish'd but to feed the tomb. Seeds of merciless disease Lurk in all that we enjoy ; Some, that waste us by degrees, And if life o'erleap the bourn Common to the sons of men: What remains, but that we mourn, Dream, and doat, and drivel then? Fast as moons can wax and wane, Sorrow comes; and while we groan, Pant with anguish and complain, Half our years are fled and gone. If a few, (to few 'tis giv'n,) Ling'ring on this earthly stage, Wherefore live they, but to see Cunning, arrogance, and force, Holding their accustom'd course? Oft was seen in ages past, All that we with wonder view; Often shall be to the last; Earth produces nothing new. Thee we gratulate; content, Should propitious Heaven design Life for us, as calmly spent, Though but half the length of thine. VICTORIA FORENSIS CAIO Cum Titio lis et vexatio longa Quisque novos sumptus, alter et alter, habent. THE CAUSE WON. Two neighbours furiously dispute; Defendant thus becomes a name, BOMBYX. FINE sub Aprilis Bombyx excluditur ove Reptilis exiguo corpore vermiculus, Frondibus hic mori, volvox dum fiat adultus, Gnaviter incumbens, dum satietur, edit. Crescendo ad justum cum jam maturuit ævum, Incipit artifici stamine textor opus : Filaque condensans filis, orbem implicat orbi, Et sensim in gyris conditus ipse latet. Jnque cadi teretem formam se colligit, unde Egrediens pennas papilionis habet; Fitque parens tandem, fœtumque reponit in ovis ; Hoc demum extremo munere functus obit. Quotquot in hac nostra spirant animalia terra Nulli est vel brevior vita, vel utilior. THE SILK WORM. THE beams of April, ere it goes, That serves him-till he needs no more i That hour arriv'd, his work begins. He spins and weaves, and weaves and spins, Till circle upon circle wound Careless around him and around, Conceals him with a veil, though slight, Impervious to the keenest sight. And, though a worm, when he was lost, When next we see him, wings he wears, With future worms and future flies, INNOCENS PRÆDATRIX. SECULA per campos nullo defessa labore, Ut ne vel minimum videris indicium: THE INNOCENT THIEF. Nor a flower can be found in the fields, To the bee, never wearied, a treasure |