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'Twas on a lofty vase's side,
Where China's gayest art had dyed

The azure flowers, that blow;
Demurest of the tabby kind,
The pensive Selima, reclined,

Gazed on the lake below.
Her conscious tail her joy declared ;
The fair round face, the snowy beard,
The velvet of her

Her coat, that with the tortoise vies,
Her ears of jet, and emerald eyes,

and purr'd applause.
Still had she gazed ; but ’midst the tide
Two angel forms were seen to glide,

The Genii of the stream :
Their scaly armour's Tyrian hue
Through richest purple to the view
Betray'd a golden gleam.

The hapless nymph with wonder saw ;
A whisker first, and then a claw,

With many an ardent wish,
She stretch'd, in vain, to reach the prize.
What female heart can gold despise ?

What Cat's averse to fish ?

Presumptuous maid ! with looks intent Again she stretch'd, again she bent,

Nor knew the gulf between.
(Malignant Fate sat by, and smiled)
The slipp'ry verge her feet beguiled,

She tumbled headlong in.
Eight times emerging from the flood,
She mew'd to every watery God,

Some speedy aid to send.
No Dolphin came, no Nereid stirr'd :
Nor cruel Tom, nor Susan heard.

A favourite has no friend!

From hence, ye beauties, undeceived, Know, one false step is ne'er retrieved,

And be with caution bold. Not all that tempts your wandering eyes And heedless hearts is lawful prize,

Nor all, that glisters, gold.



'Ανθρωπος, έκανή πρόφασις εις το δυστυχεϊν.


Ye distant spires, ye antique towers,

That crown the watery glade,
Where grateful Science still adores

Her Henry's * holy shade ;
And ye, that from the stately brow
Of Windsor's heights the expanse below

grove, of lawn, of mead survey, Whose turf, whose shade, whose flowers among Wanders the hoary Thames along

His silver-winding way :
Ah, happy hills ! ah, pleasing shade !

Ah, fields beloved in vain !
Where once my careless childhood stray'd,

A stranger yet to pain !
I feel the gales that from ye blow
A momentary bliss bestow,

* King Henry the Sixth, founder of the College.

As waving fresh their gladsome wing, My weary soul they seem to sooth, And, redolent of joy and youth,

To breathe a second Spring.

Say, father Thames, for thou hast seen

Full many a sprightly race
Disporting on thy margent green,

The paths of pleasure trace;
Who foremost now delight to cleave,
With pliant arm, thy glassy wave ?

The captive linuet which enthral ?
What idle progeny succeed
To chase the rolling circle's speed,

Or urge the flying ball ?

While some on earnest business bent,

Their murmuring labours ply 'Gainst graver hours that bring constraint

To sweeten liberty :
Some bold adventurers disdain
The limits of their little reign,

And unknown regions dare descry :
Still as they run they look behind,
They hear a voice in every wind,

And snatch a fearful joy..

Gay hope is theirs by fancy fed,

Less pleasing when possess'd; The tear forgot as soon as shed,

The sunshine of the brcast.

rosy hue,

Theirs buxom health, of
Wild wit, invention ever new,

And lively cheer, of vigour born ;
The thoughtless day, the easy night,
The spirits pure, the slumbers light,

That fly the approach of morn.

Alas! regardless of their doom,

The little victims play ;
No sense have they of ills to come,

Nor care beyond to-day :
Yet see, how all around 'em wait
The ministers of human fate,

And black Misfortune's baleful train ! Ah, show them where in ambush stand, To seize their prey, the murderous band !

Ah, tell them they are men !

These shall the fury Passions tear,

The vultures of the mind,
Disdainful Anger, pallid Fear,

And Shame that skulks behind ;
Or pining Love shall waste their youth,
Or Jealousy, with rankling tooth,

That inly gnaws the secret heart;
And Envy wan, and faded Care,
Grim-visaged comfortless Despair,

And Sorrow's piercing dart.

Ambition this shall tempt to rise,

Then whirl the wretch from high,

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