And, with exactest care,

Select from all the fhining croud,

Some lafting joy, fome fov'reign good,

And fix thy wishes there.

III.

With toil amass a mighty store
Of glowing stones, or yellow ore;
Plant the fields with golden grain,
Croud with lowing herds the plain,
Bid the marble domes afcend,
Bid the pleasant view extend,

Streams and groves and woods appear,
And spring and autumn fill the year:

10

15

Sure, these are joys, full, permanent, fincere ;
Sure, now each boundless wish can ask no more. 20

On rofes now reclin'd,

I languish into rest ;

IV.

No vacuum in my mind,

No craving wish unblest:

But ah! in vain,

Some absent joy ftill gives me pain,
By toys elated, or by toys depreft.

25

Y.

What melting joy can footh my grief? What balmy pleafure yield my foul relief? "Tis found; the blifs already warms,

Sunk in love's persuasive arms,

Enjoying and enjoy'd:

To taste variety of charms

Be ev'ry happy hour employ'd.

30

ORPHEUS, tune the lyre;

To new-born rapture wake the foul,

And kindle young defire:

While, a beauteous choir around,

Tuneful virgins join the sound,

Panting bofoms, fpeaking eyes,

Yielding fmiles, and trembling fighs:

Thro' melting error let their voices rove,

40

45

And trace th' inchanting maze of harmony and love.

VII. Still,

VII.

Still, ftill infatiate of delight

My wishes

open, as my joys increase:

What now shall stop their reftless flight,

And yield them kind redress?

For fomething still unknown I figh,

Beyond what strikes the touch, the ear, or eye; Whence fhall I feek, or how pursue

The phantom, that eludes my view,

And cheats my fond embrace?

VIII,

59

55

Thus, while her wanton toils fond pleasure spread,
By fenfe and paffion blindly led,

I chas'd the Syren thro' the flow'ry maze,
And courted death ten thousand ways:
Kind heav'n beheld, with pitying eyes,
My restless toil, my fruitless fighs;
And, from the realms of endless day,
A bright Immortal wing'd his way ;
Swift as a fun-beam down he flew,

And stood difclos'd, effulgent to my

དྷ

view.

60

65

IX. Fond

IX.

Fond man, he cry'd, thy fruitless fearch forbear;

Nor vainly hope, within this narrow sphere,

A certain happiness to find,

Unbounded as thy wish, eternal as thy mind:

In God, in perfect good alone,

The anxious foul can find repose;

Nor to a blifs beneath his throne,

One hour of full enjoyment owes : He, only he, can fill each wide defire, Who to each with its being gave;

70

75

Not all the charms which mortal wishes fire,

Not all which angels in the skies admire,

But God's paternal smile, can bide it cease to crave.

Him then purfue, without delay;

He is thy prize, and virtue is thy way.

Then to the winds his radiant plumes he spread,

80

And from my wond'ring eyes, more fwift than lightning, fled.

ka

Το

To HAPPINESS: An ODE.

I.

HE morning dawns, the ev'ning fhades

THE

Fair Nature's various face disguise;

No scene to rest my heart perfuades,

No moment frees from tears my eyes: Whate'er once charm'd the laughing hour, Now boasts no more its pleasing pow'r;

Each former object of delight,

Beyond redemption wings its flight;

5

And, where it fmil'd the darling of my fight, Prospects of woe and horrid phantoms rise. 10

II.

O HAPPINESS! immortal Fair,

Where does thy fubtil effence dwell?

Doft thou relax the Hermit's care,
Companion in the lonely cell?,
Or, doft thou on the funny plain
Infpire the reed, and chear the fwain'?

15

Or,